shiso mama

All of the Aunt Grandmas have been lavishing their love and attention on Otis.  It's been a while since there's been a baby in the family, so they've been eager to get their hands on one.  Lucky him.  F and I have been joking that we need to have another kid soon just to prevent further and irrevocable spoilage of The Boy.  But for now I'm just pinning my hopes of Mr. and Mrs. Shiso Bro, who will hopefully squeeze one out soon.

Sibling rivalry between all the sisters is inevitable, but it's been particularly interesting and amusing to watch it play out through their interactions with Otis.  The day we arrived and went out for our Mother's Day Lunch, Little Aunt Grandma A got to sit next to Otis and received lots of kisses, much to the jealous glares of the other Aunt Grandmas.  Score one for her.  When Otis plays with the phone at Great Grandma's house, he'll pick up the phone and insist on handing it to Second Aunt Grandma CF and watches intently as she pretends to talk.  Score one for her.  Each little smile, each kiss, each time he wants someone to pick him up, is a victory tallied in one or another Aunt Grandma's book.

Today, Fifth Aunt Grandma K scored one of the biggest victories yet.  When we walked into Great Grandma's house today, Otis was passed around from one Aunt Grandma to another.  And then K walked in, and he started whining for her.  As soon as he was in her arms, he would have no other.  Third Aunt Grandma G approached and stretched out her arms for "bao bao."  Otis shook his head no, turned his head, and tightened his grip.  Shocked and dismayed, she tried from another angle.  Another refusal. Then Fourth Aunt Grandma Ling approached, with promises of the opportunity to play with the bathroom faucet, one of his favorite games.  Same head shake and turning away.  That's two for Team K!  Second Aunt Grandma CF got a running start and was rebuffed before she even got within breathing distance.  Three for Team K!  Then the final and most difficult test.  Little Aunt Grandma A started slow start and then gathered momentum, sure that she - one of the Aunt Grandmas who spends the most time playing with and teasing Otis - would convince him to switch allegiances.  Denied!  Team K is declared the all-powerful victor!  She tries not to gloat, but it's difficult for her to wipe the smug smile off her face.  But she can't sit on her laurels, because there are just no guarantees.  

We leave for Tokyo tomorrow for a brief trip.  It's the first step in the disbanding of the family reunion that gathered for my brother's wedding.  When we return, Second Aunt Grandma CF will be gone already, back to China, as well as Fifth Aunt Grandma K, back to California.  Things will be considerably quieter, and there will be less competition for the other Aunt Grandmas during our last week, but it will all be bittersweet as they think about our imminent departure.  Right about now is when I always start to become really anxious to head home, to our regular life and routines, but also start to feel really sad and guilty when I think about how much the rest of the family will miss him.  Great Grandma has already decreed that all photos of Otis will be put away as soon as we leave, as she will be really sad and will want as few reminders of us as possible. 

It took me a little while to get used to being surrounded by family, but man, I could get used to the easy life.  When we go to visit the grandparents, he is whisked away and entertained while I sit and knit without a worry, for the first time since he was born.  This morning, I stumbled out of Otis's room and handed him off into my mother's ready and willing arms and fell back asleep until a luxurious 7:30.  They're keeping this kid sedated and happy:

Sure, they're incapable of adult conversation when he's around.  Sure, nobody ever talks to me or F, except to order us to do something for Otis.  But hey, I can feel my shoulders untense-ing and I'm actually starting to feel well-rested.  I guess this is what they mean when they say it takes a village.

Yes, the deed is done. My brother is now married. I saw lots of old friends of my parents and grandparents that I haven't seen in years. We ate banquet food. People walked from table to table toasting. Speeches were made. F did a fantastic job starting the whole celebration off with a touching speech. Too bad a good many of the Chinese guests didn't stop talking or eating to listen to him. But at least he didn't have to say anything in Chinese, so it was a double success.

But what's the real story here, you ask? Where are the juicy bits? Well, I have one word for you: models models models. Mrs. Shiso Bro is a model (!!!), so as you can imagine, there were lots and lots of tall, leggy, striking Chinese girls there. When the bridesmaids walked down the aisle, they strutted that catwalk! Cocktail hour was insane, as there were photographers and reporters seemingly everywhere I turned. If I wasn't tripping over one sprawled on the floor trying to get an artsy shot of a model, then I was being pushed over by another one. Luckily for the photographers (or perhaps for their sake), the models like to cluster, away from the unattractive people, so they didn't have to work too hard. Mrs. Shiso Bro's agency sent over their own photographers for press shots, and he took additional pictures of our family. He kept shouting out funny stereotypical model-photographer comments to my mother in between shots: "Mama! Look here! No, here! (snaps fingers) Turn your head! Be natural! Natural!" But he could not convince my mother to change the frozen, uncomfortable smile that pasted on my mother's face.

The models acted as though they were at a photo shoot, posing for shot after shot after shot, changing the tilt of their heads ever so slightly or adjusting hand gestures after each flash of the camera. Strange men would approach them and ask to have their picture taken. Unattractive autograph seekers hovered around, working up the courage to ask for a signature. F said that he could ALMOST work up the emotion to feel sorry for them (but models don't deserve our sympathy for being beautiful, dammit!) My mother went out and bought some newspapers this morning, and every one covered the wedding. One included a picture of my parents (frozen smiles and all) with the bride, groom and bride's parents, and another had F in the background during the ceremony (unfortunately, he was upstaged by my brother's boutonniere so half his face is covered). I look at the few pictures that we took with my camera, and boy do I look short and fat standing next to Mrs. Shiso Bro! I think I may have to avoid standing next to her at all costs starting now. Oh, and I think I'll have to start holding my arm away from my body all the time from now on as well. I need to learn some pointers from the models.

Not surprisingly, the friends of the bride and groom sort of split up and stayed on their respective sides of the room when we all adjourned to the honeymoon suite after dinner. (F and I hovered by the back with another set of parents of young children, who were as tired as we were.) My brother's college friends drank and played traditional Chinese wedding games, and the models changed into short shorts and heels. I couldn't take my eyes off of them, I was OBSESSED with everything about them. By the end of the evening, I had my own personal favorite model. At one point, I had to turn to F and say, "I love/hate these models and their sparkly metallic purses!"

Oh yeah, and the other story of the evening: Otis's outfit! I bought him this fantastic blue, red and cream floral tie, and F bought him a seersucker suit. It was a pretty sweet ensemble. Here he is in his shirtsleeves, getting ready for the evening (Does he look like a drunken frat boy with an emerging beer belly hanging over his pants?):

Here we all are together, decidedly unmodel-like, although F managed a nice shoulder angle:

Today is F's and my fourth wedding anniversary. We'll be celebrating it at my brother's wedding. We didn't want to schlep gifts across the world, nor did we want to spend crazy money after all the crazy money we've been spending on the house, so we went homemade this year. I think we may start to go homemade from here on out.

F created this virtual tour of all the places we've traveled in the seven years (seven! oh my wasted youth!) we've been together, using Google Earth. It's a pretty cool way to remember and see the history of our relationship, and it's just the kind of thing that appeals to F's supremely egghead-y side (he says that he ALMOST included every place where we've spent the night, and threatens that he probably has the wherewithal to still do so).

I made F a collage (big surprise). I'm going to mat it and frame it for him when we get back.

As an anniversary treat for all of you, I'm going to share a collection of poems I wrote to F, during the earlier years of our courtship. I'm a poet. Did you know it?

favorite boys are hard to find
'specially those who haven't lost their mind
when i find i'm in a bind
i'm not 'fraid i'll lose my mind
cause i've got a boy who is so kind.
- April 25, 2000

my boy's name is worky-work
but at least he's not a jerk
i love him to bits
he hasn't got tits
at least he's not a ditz
- January 10, 2001

i know a boy
who doesn't sleep
he really hates
to rub his feet
sleep sleep, favorite boy
before you become my beloved toy
- March 5, 2001

Tomorrow is the big day, the day that Shiso Bro finally enters legal couplehood. Last minute details are still being ironed out. Many guests assumed that the wedding was Saturday, not Friday, so calls are being made to assure that our guests show up on the correct day. For some unknown reason, Chinese people often bring an uninvited posse along with them, because "Hey! The more the merrier!" so the seating arrangements are still being reworked and finalized. My mom is having her hair done. My dad is going over the day's schedule for the millionth time.  F is taking a nap concentrating on the speech that he will give tomorrow to welcome the guests and unofficially "marry" the bride and groom. I'm relieved that the only responsibilities I have are painting my nails and getting Otis ready for his big public debut.

Chinese wedding traditions vary depending on where you're from, and we will be observing many Taiwanese traditions tomorrow since Mrs. Shiso Bro is half Taiwanese. I thought my own wedding was complicated, but it's nothing compared to all of the rigamarole that will be occurring tomorrow. There will be lots of parading around, bowing, serving of tea, picking people up in groups of fortuitous numbers, eating of particular foods, performing of symbolic acts because one word sounds like another word in Chinese, and passing out of tons and tons of hong bao (red envelopes filled with money). I've been chasing family members around, trying to find out the reasons for doing one thing or another, but even most of them don't know why particular rituals exist.

Otis will have two big jobs tomorrow besides just getting dolled up and being adored. Tomorrow morning we will head over to the honeymoon suite so that he can roll around and play on the newlyweds' bed and generally spread around his good boy vibes. This is a Taiwanese tradition to, well, you know, ensure the spilling of the seeds (the faster swimmers), and encourage the forthcoming horde of healthy male heirs. My parents, Otis and I will then wait for the wedding party and their posse to show up. Otis (I) will "open the door" holding (trying to stuff into his mouth) a lucky orange to offer the bride-to-be. She will rub the orange for good luck and then give Otis a hong bao for further guarantees of good luck boy sperm vibes. Ah, to be a boy in Chinese culture…

It'll be an experience for sure, and lots of fun. It won't be as steeped in rituals as many more traditional Chinese couples (like in Ang Lee's The Wedding Banquet) but it'll be the most Chinese wedding I've ever attended.  I still can't believe MY BROTHER is getting married.