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Birthdays have not felt all that significant in recent years, and this one felt no different. I just turned 36, and this did not feel notable, either. But I just received an email from a dear friend, whom I’ve known since freshman year of college, and she pointed out that we met when we were 18. So I have known her for half of my life. Now I feel old. Really old. I’ll probably feel like some kind of grand gesture will be necessary soon. Maybe a drastic haircut? A cheesy tattoo?

 

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Would it surprise you to hear that F’s out of town and my sewing machine’s busted?

 

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This collage surely does not depict the mood around our household, as we are preparing for my mother’s departure tomorrow. She’s been here since before Thanksgiving, and we are all, as usual, finding it hard to say goodbye. My mother usually starts feeling sad a week or two before her flight, sneaking in a cry here and there. Otis has also been feeling anxious, asking every morning and night whether Lao Lao will still be here after his “night sleep.” We have been trying to place her departure in the context of other happenings in his life. “After one night sleep, it’s a school day; after two night sleeps, Lao Lao leaves; after four night sleeps, Baba comes home (he’s away on business); after five night sleeps, Wu Yi Lao Lao comes back from Taiwan…” Hopefully this has been somewhat reassuring to him. I hate goodbyes.  They are such torture.

 

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Thanks, by the way, for the comments on the selling of stuff. I have the feeling that I didn’t make myself entirely clear — what’s holding me back is not primarily the reluctance to start my own business, or even the production side of things, though those are not small issues. I think that the thing I struggle with lately, especially with Christmas just come and gone, is the excess of stuff. I’m striving to live with less, and believe that it’s generally a better way to live, and I’d like to reconcile these feelings with the desire to make stuff to sell.

I’m curious to know if you folks out there cut back this holiday season and why. I’ve never been a huge Christmas gift giver, which is the reason why I’ve always made candy (uh, until this year). And I really try to encourage family not to buy too many gifts. But as usual, we ended up with a mantle full of gifts, and I was as guilty as anyone in buying too many presents for loved ones (except for Fifth Aunt Grandma K, who takes the cake in this category, but only because she loves us too much). I tell myself that I should just let loose a little, it’s OK if Christmas is every bit the free-for-all that Halloween is, since that’s part of the fun of being a kid. Unfortunately, Otis didn’t get to eat all of his Halloween candy, either, but I SWEAR he forgot about it. I found myself saying rather crossly several times, “Christmas is NOT about presents! It is about spending time with the people you love!!!” How do you guys handle the holiday shopping season?

 

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Do your kids have highly selective memories or is it just mine? His short term memory is so bad it’s almost a pathology. Talking about his day, as we do each night before he goes to sleep, can be excruciating. Otis can’t even remember what he ate 5 minutes ago, and eating is one of the great pleasures of his life! However, his long-term memory is amazing. He can remember minute details about the most important day of his life: the day he went to see Walking With The Dinosaurs. Just yesterday, he was talking with F about the dinosaurs, and he actually remembered a billboard that he saw before they parked the car. We just found out that it’s coming back to town, so it looks like we’ve found the perfect Christmas present. If your kid is a dinosaur fan, I’d highly recommend it. A bit pricey, but totally and completely memorable.

 

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Bee rolled over today for the first time.  I didn’t witness it, but when I went to get her after her nap, she was smiling as always, but on her back.

 

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a conversation from yesterday:

Otis: Mama, you’re pretty. (rubbing my arm)
me: Oh yeah? Well, thank you.
Otis: I want to marry you! (jumps into my arms)
me: Wow! But I’m already married. I’m married to Baba.
Otis: (looks puzzled for a second) I like you. I like you ALL DAY LONG.

I remember that when Otis was younger, he really wasn’t affectionate at all. At best, he withstood my embarrassing displays with a twinge of pity, waiting until the moment he could race off to the next shiny object. And just as I was resigning myself to a life of awkward one-armed man hugs, life has thrown me some good loving. I’m going to enjoy this as long as he’ll let me.

 

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