All posts filed under: Personal

Working mom dilemma: Nap time

Fell off the NaBloPoMo wagon. It’s Day 22, and reminiscent to Day 15, we’re still on this no-sleep train. Let’s talk about naps, shall we? The guilt of missing so many of my kids’ precious moments in their earlier years is a very real thing about being a working mom. I had many moments right after maternity leave, trying to process whether I was working to pay for daycare or if the cost of daycare was the only way to remain in the workforce. For many working moms, the cost of daycare nearly eclipses their take-home income, and it doesn’t make financial sense to stay in their jobs. When I transitioned out of my 9-to-5, we pulled Bear Shark out of full-time daycare to save money. He was also at a really great easy age, and being home with him felt like I was making up for all the lost time I didn’t get to have with the Big Kid. I treasure those early pre-walking/talking months. I was finally getting some one-on-one time with Bear Shark and really …

Thoughts on the safety pin

If you haven’t heard about why people are wearing safety pins out in public, let me point you here first. (By the way, if you have Amazon Prime, you can get a 6-month free trial of The Washington Post in digital form. After that, it’s $3.99 a month.) There’s been a lot of discussion about whether the safety pin is truly support for those under attack or merely a symbolic gesture. The question has been raised whether someone wearing a safety pin is really willing to stand up to attackers when push comes to shove. I think we all have in mind how we would like to respond in a scenario. In my head, I’m coming out swinging with insults and ready to lay down a good tongue lashing. In reality, I, like many others when faced with an IRL situation, would freeze for a moment as I realize that this is actually happening, then make my fastest escape. If you are a white majority ally, you may not know how you will react when you see someone …

Saturday evening musings: TV shows

This is Day 12 of NaBloPoMo, and considering I’m typing this one out on a Saturday evening, I thought I’d keep things light. The very first website I created on Geocities was titled Mmm… TV Good. This was 1996, if I remember correctly. (HOLY COW! I’ve been publishing on the internets for 20 years!!!) I basically used it like a blog in that it was regularly updated, and I archived my posts in chronological order. I’m not sure whether I saved those files on a hard drive somewhere for historical keeping, but most of my blogging then was about TV. I was pretty hardcore about my TV watching. I recorded all my shows on the ol’ VCR before DVRs and On Demand and online streaming became the norm. So let’s chat about TV, shall we? I’ve seen every episode of Saved by the Bell. The earlier season with Miss Bliss. The high school years. College years. Summer job at the resort. Special wedding episode. I skipped the New Class, though, since it was beyond terrible. I didn’t …

I will not unfriend you

I’ve been on Facebook since 2003. It seemed every time I joined a group or switched jobs, I collected more “friends.” There was a point when I did a massive unfriending because I had a ton of acquaintances – not IRL friends. It had nothing to do with politics. Other than that, it’s been a very rare occasion when I’ve had to burn the Facebook friend bridge. I hear a lot of people saying they’re unfriending Trump supporters. While I understand the temptation to cut ties because of the horrible things Trump has said that then reflects on his supporters, this only makes our echo chambers tinier and echo louder. So I will not unfriend you just because you voted for him. I may hide you from my feed if you become extra hostile or ugly (as in I find out you really are racist, sexist and xenophobic even if you are unaware), but I will not cut you out of my life. I will try to help you overcome your -isms and -phobias. On the flip side, I ask that …

How to support your non-white, non-straight, non-Christian, non-male friends

I talk about compassion a lot. And I’ll admit that I didn’t start to fully grasp what that meant until these last few years as I’ve gotten deeper into yoga and experienced deep moments of darkness. To begin, let me throw some quick definitions out (pulled from Google), as there are similarities. Sympathy, noun 1. feelings of pity and sorrow for someone else’s misfortune 2. understanding between people; common feeling. Empathy, noun the ability to understand and share the feelings of another. Compassion, noun sympathetic pity and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others. Most of us tend to fall in the sympathy and empathy camp. We feel sorrow and sadness for someone when they’re going through something bad. When we empathize, we try to share in their feelings; we sense their anger and also feel anger ourselves. Compassion, though, speaks specifically to recognizing and having concern for others’ suffering, and the only way to get to that level of concern is to listen and let their suffering soak in and affect your heart. How many times have you witnessed …

Post-11/9 Are you ok? Yeah, I’m ok.

Thank you to the friends who have reached out to me to ask if I’m ok following the election. I’m surrounded by wonderful, compassionate people who I know have my back and validate my feelings as a woman, an immigrant, a person of color and as a citizen of the Unites States. I’ve managed to surround myself with people who love, are open minded and big hearted, so it was especially gutting to see the results roll in. This election was a hard one to swallow. I have always felt the undertones of racism, sexism, xenophobia, homophobia and every other -phobia and -ism in the U.S. Most of the blatant stuff I experienced was growing up in suburban Dallas. An elderly white man who came up to me in the grocery store, saying, “Thank God you’re not Japanese,” and making a gesture like slicing the throat. A friend and classmate who told me I was going to hell because my family isn’t Catholic. Too many instances of “Go back to China” uttered or yelled at me …

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