| Wednesday, August 30, 2006 |
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Random Thoughts.
1.) Here's an annoying coincidence: everytime I need to get to work early because of an important meeting, I get stuck in traffic for an hour.
2.) I work with an Englishman who looks like he might have been a roadie for the Rolling Stones in the past life. Scuffed jeans to work and tattoos all over his arm. The other males I work with tell me that he cusses like a sailor, but he's always been very gentlemanly and charming towards me and the other females in the office. Anyway, I managed to put on a pair of black slacks that I hadn't been able to wear in a long time without totally cutting off my circulation. I bumped into him at our coffee station yesterday. He gave me the once over and said, "You know there seems to be less and less of you everytime I see you." OK, he might have been lying through his teeth, but didn't I tell you he was a charmer?
3.) The big pad of scrapbook papers that I ordered from QVC has finally arrived! This is good! This makes me want to by more items from them. This is bad! But seriously, the Brenda Walton papers are gorgeous. I can't wait to get back to working on my parent's wedding album.
4.) My son's favorite song is Dreams Come True's "Love Love Love", a j-pop song that I fell in love with more than ten years ago, when I was in college. You don't really need to understand Japanese to appreciate the song. I would characterize the song as painfully sweet.
5.) I am a superwoman. No, really. Who would've thunk that my kisses can heal all sorts of boo-boos? Everytime my son's adventures turn into misadventures, he would run to me and ask for a kissy-boo-boo. Scraped your knee? Kissy-boo-boo. Fell of the sofa? Kissy-boo-boo. Food too hot? Kissy-boo-boo.
6.) Here's one of my poorer qualities: I can't resist anything that's free, even if I don't need it. And there are lots of free food in my workplace many times. This is why my fridge has two paper cups full of miniature candy that none of us like to eat, but it's there because it was free. This is also why I have two huge slices of tomato and basil pizza that I'm too full to eat, but I have it because it's free. My husband says this is gluttony. He is right, of course, and I'm trying really hard to change. In the meantime, I'm bringing these pizza slices home and hoping he'll enjoy them. |
posted by M @ 1:35 PM  |
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| Tuesday, August 22, 2006 |
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Oh-So-Pretty!
So anyway. Yesterday the wig finally arrived, and there was excitement all around at Mommy's house. It was like Christmas came early. Thankfully Leetle Seester was there to help her and Daddy figure out how to properly orient the hairpiece. It was not as dark as Mommy's original hair, but Mommy was pleased that it looked natural on her. She had planned to wear it only "on special occassions and to church", but she found herself wearing it in the house all day, and admiring the way she looked in the mirror.
Nothing like a new hairstyle to make a woman feel ten years younger. |
| posted by M @ 2:39 PM |
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| Wednesday, August 16, 2006 |
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Hair, Hair, Hair!
Finally! Mommy agreed to use a wig!
For what seemed to be the longest time, I had been suggesting to Mommy that perhaps she ought to buy a wig so that she could go out more often and generally enjoy life more. She always responded that the scarves my sister gave her and the turbans and hats she had were more than enough. After all, all she needed was to keep her head warm.
Of course, I hated her turbans and hats; and the pretty scarves from my sister were always hidden under those awful hats. They made her look like she had the Big C, and I wanted her to look like she did a few months ago, with thick, luxurious hair.
When we visited them last week, Mommy showed me a catalog that she and Daddy had been going over. It was from TLC direct. TLC is the arm of the American Cancer Society that sells hair loss and mastectomy products. She showed me some hairstyles that were similar to her old hairdo, and some that were a little more daring for her. I fell in love with a cloche hat with a flower attached saucily to the side. I asked her if she was going to order from the catalog.
She huffed, "Daddy won't buy me anything."
Excited at the thought that she was even considering ordering from the catalog, I said, "I can buy the wig for you, Mommy." We debated about which style would suit her best, and even mulled over perhaps getting a wig with a different hair color. I thought she should go with ash brown with blond highlights. My husband thought she should go blond. But she wanted just a plain brown wig.
I asked her to measure her head so that we can order the right size wig. But she said, "Oh, but I don't need a wig." I guess she wanted me to think that she was just enjoying fantasizing about having a new hairstyle. "But you can buy me that pretty hat, if you want."
She can be so exasperating sometimes.
I thought I should go ahead and get her a wig, whether she liked it or not, but then she might not appreciate me bullying her into doing something she wasn't ready for. So I decided to go to TLC Direct's website and paste pictures of hairstyles that Mommy and I had admired, in an e-mail. I asked her to rank them according to which she liked the best. Sort of gently prodding her.
Then when I called them a couple of days ago, Daddy greeted me with "Hey, your Mom wants some new hair!" and passed the phone to her. She gave me the precise measurements of her head, and even specified the style she wanted. She said apologetically, "But the style I like is so expensive."
I ignored her protest.
"Too bad they don't have that style in darkest brown," she sighed. "What will Granma think?"
"Ma! She'll think that you became vain like your big sister, and that you decided to go for a younger look. Are you sure that you don't want the one with the blond highlights? Might as well go all the way, you know."
Suffice it to say, that phone conversation ended on a high note.
I bought the wig and some products for its care online a couple of days ago. I had wanted to get the cute cloche hat, but IT WAS NOT AVAILABLE! I have to wait until next month to get it. Oh well. Maybe they'll have something prettier and cheaper by then. They have processed my order, but I'm still waiting for them to ship it.
I think I'm more excited about this wig thing than she is.
I can't help it. I'm happy because this "shopping" experience was so much like the shopping we did every Friday night when I was still a bachelorette. Nothing bonds two women like shopping. Not too long ago, Mommy, my sister, and me would spend Friday evenings in the mall, trying on clothes, checking out new lotions, and thinking of ways to redecorate our home as we strolled through the home department of Macy's. It's nice to feel like I did then, like I could giggle with my Mom like she was a girl friend.
Also, I believe that getting this new hairstyle will be good for her. It won't just pep up her look, but I'm sure her health will improve as well. After all, looking good makes one feel good about oneself. And I am convinced that her body will respond positively to her new self-confidence. I love it that she is not resigned to looking like she is sick, and is becoming more proactive about taking charge of her life. I love it that she is starting to have fun again!
I am so thankful!
Now, I wonder if I can convince her to try something with red highlights... |
| posted by M @ 2:53 PM |
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| Tuesday, August 15, 2006 |
| Here Comes the Bride - September 1974. |
Here Comes the Bride - September 1974.
I had asked Mommy to sort through the boxes of old photographs lying around in her house, and separate pictures from her wedding. They had been sitting neglected for many years in the old house, in an album that little insects had started to eat. Daddy had rescued the photographs before they became termite lunch, but we didn't give a thought to giving these pictures a new home until recently.
One of the photo albums escaped the termites. I went through it a couple of days ago, as if I were a stranger looking at these pictures for the first time. There was nothing professional about my parents' wedding. In fact, perhaps the only pro that day was the priest. I heard that nowadays, weddings cost an average of $22,000.
I doubt very much that my parents' wedding thirty-two years ago cost more than $500.
The pictures were taken by a non-professional, probably Mommy's sister, or one of her friends. Some are out of focus. Some images are tilted. In one shot, Mommy's makeup is being touched up by her best friend. In a picture of Mommy getting into the car, she looks like she could be licking her lips or sticking her tongue out at the cameraperson. In the corner of one of the pictures from the reception, one can clearly see an aluminum foil tray, so I guess they didn't have a fancy sit-down dinner.
I'm ashamed to realize that I have not been very curious about what must have been the most important day of my parents' young life.
Mommy looked so young.
When I look at wedding magazines, I think about how much dieting I would have to do to fit into the dress being modelled. I wonder how much a fairytale dress costs. I wonder what kind of careers the bride and groom must have to afford such an expensive day. Modern weddings seem to focus so much on the getting married part; I feel that the staying married part is not given enough attention.
This is why I love to look at old wedding albums. This is why I am now fascinated by my parents' old wedding album. I find that the pictures taken by the non-pro captures the true essence of the bride and groom, however clumsy the pictures look.
Mommy looks shy, while Daddy looks confident. I wonder what they were thinking. Were they nervous, or did they feel comfortable, marrying each other's best friend? Were they thinking about having children, and how many children they wanted to have?
I look at my parents' wedding pictures, and I see hope and optimism in their faces. I see no designer gowns, no exotic locations, no glamorous guests. Only two young people starting a new chapter in their lives, confident that they will grow old together.
I realize that this is the most beautiful wedding I've never been to. |
| posted by M @ 3:02 PM |
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| Monday, August 07, 2006 |
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Last Saturday, we visited my parents' house. It was our first visit since Mom lost all her hair to cancer.
She joked about her bald head. She said that whenever it was sunny enough outside she would sit in the back porch and sun her scalp so that its color would match the rest of her. She asked me if I would like her to take off the bonnet she was wearing.
I hastily said no.
I had seen pictures of her without her hair, of course. But I'm not ready to see her bald in person. She had always had thick, luxurious hair. And now it was gone.
I think the reason why I am resistant to seeing her sans hair is because her baldness makes her look like she has the big C. I want to look at her and see an image of her as a healthy lady. It's the only way I can keep my hope up.
Thankfully, she seems to be responding well to her latest round of treatments. More than anything, it is her upbeat attitude that keeps me from dwelling on the depressing aspects of her disease. She is still funny and goofy as ever, and this keeps us optimistic. Her spirit cannot be quashed.
Were our spirits half as strong as hers! |
| posted by M @ 3:40 PM |
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I am still working at being as close to a perfect Mommy as I can be. Sometimes I feel like I've made a memory with my son which he will recall with fondness when talks about it with his children. But sometimes I can be a bit of a witch. Like this morning. Ducky started bawling when he saw that I was taking the exit that would take him to his babysitter's house. I tried to comfort him as much as I can from the driver's seat by assuring him that things will be all right, and that he will have lots of fun with his playmates, and that we will see each other tonight, after all. And then he threw up, and all I could think about was how I needed to clean him up, and how that would make me late for work, and how I will miss my deadlines.
I'm ashamed to say that I didn't sound very comforting when I wiped the vomit off his face, and changed his clothing (thank goodness I happened to have one of his jackets in the car!). Oh, I wasn't mean. I kept saying comforting words to him, but the sing-song way in which I had said it was gone. I was so engrossed in thinking about work that I forgot to kiss him goodbye when I handed him to his babysitter.
As I drove to my office, I mentally kicked myself for worrying too much about work and being grossed out by my son's mess. After all, he was probably crying because he felt he would miss me more today than usual. I wish I would remember these things when parenting is at its most stressful.
I am trying to comfort myself with the thought that no one commits to parenting with all the skills perfected, and that every mistake teaches me how I can become a better Mommy. It's not working though. I still feel terrible.
And to think that last night, we had one of those special just-the-two-of-us moments, when I pulled back the blinds to our bedroom window, and we just looked at the moon rising over the trees.
I wish motherhood were as sweet and simple as those moments. But I know that things are going to get more challenging with each passing day. I only hope I can remember today, and remind myself that love should be the emotion that overrules everything else (irritation, anger, annoyance) when it comes to my child.
Mother Mary, pray for me. |
| posted by M @ 12:23 PM |
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| Yahoo! I think. |
I am swamped with work. So swamped in fact, that my supervisor decided to have pity on my and take one project off my hand.
On the one hand, my brain is getting so stressed that I could scream. On the other hand, I am actually happy that I have these things on my plate. The math geniuses here in our company with have actually requested my boss to assign me as part of their project team. Some of them are a pain to work with, but I figure if they like me working with them then I must be doing something good. My supervisor has also entrusted me with a project with a new client, with all-new data.
I find that I am actually enjoying the challenge of having to work on many projects, but I have to be careful not to take on too many responsibilities. That has happened before and I found myself confusing components of one project with another. Programming with Java is becoming easier, although I am far from being an expert at it.
Unfortunately, I've been teamed up with a girl I'll call 8675309 in one project and I really hate working with her. She keeps bothering me every time her program has a bug. She's like, "My program is producing errors, take a look at it." I used to be all nice about it, but not anymore. 867 has started dumping her work on others. I have become, "I do not have time to go over your program right now, but when I have some free time I'll be glad to look over your program with you." Of course I never seem to find any free time. Or, when I'm feeling especially mean, I will keep staring at my monitor and typing away at my keyboard whenever she comes to my office with one of her programming problems, grunting and giving noncommittal noises. Now I don't mind helping a coworker; after all I ask my peers for assistance every now and then. The key word here is help. 867 seems to think that "help" means she dumps her problems on others' desks while she chats on the phone.
The weekend is almost here, and I am so excited because I am taking two days off next week. My sister- and brother-in-law are visiting from Hawai'i and DearHusband and I are taking them on a tour of the lesser-known must-visit places of California. And this involves... shopping! I need to buy new work pumps to replace my trusty but worn ones. But I betcha I end up buying winter clothes for Ducky. |
| posted by M @ 4:57 PM |
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| About Me |
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Name: M
Home:
About Me: I am stumbling through motherhood and wife-hood (is there such a word?), and enjoying every minute of it! Attracted to intelligent, not-conventionally-handsome men. I think Alton Brown and Hugh Laurie are hot. I make a mean baked macaroni and beef stroganoff.
See my complete profile
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