Back after a LOOOOONG hiatus

It's been - oh like - 8 months since I've written here.

But I've been having that antsy feeling again.

You know - that feeling of really needing to blow off steam and vent and share and pontificate and just BE.

And not in the "let's put this in my Facebook status" kind of way.

So, I am back and will re-dedicate myself to writing in this blog.

Why?

For the same reasons I started.
To chronicle my kids' goings-on and funny stories - who were 3 when I started. And who are now 5 and going on Kindergarten in the fall. And who are growing up so damn fast.

And also, to provide an outlet to share thoughts around what-evs.
Politics.
Social etiquette.
Keeping up a social life in suburbia - a social life that now consists of kids' birthday parties, soccer games, bunco and book club with the neighborhood ladies. and, the occasional GNO and weekends away in Vegas.
Parenting.
Being a wife.
Managing a career. Or a job.
Balancing on a tight rope.
Fashion do's and don'ts for the late 30's/40's set (which seems to be a popular topic these days with my fellow momma girlfriends here in suburbia).

And even if no one else reads this but me, who gives a sh&t?! It's for me and my kids. And maybe, for my friends and whomever will want to read and listen and participate.

'Cause I have a lot to say, dammit. ;-)

Catharsis

dearest kids,

(breathe. breathe. breathe. deep. breaths. ooohhhhm.)

i am showing restraint right now by writing in my blog instead of marching into your bedroom like a drill sergeant and ordering you to go to bed.

it's 10:30p.m. and you are still up laughing and giggling and fighting and playing in the corners of your dimly lit room.

do you know that i have to wake you up at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow morning so i can make it in time to get myself together, get you together, feed you breakfast, eat my breakfast, lather you up with sunscreen, make your lunch, make my lunch, take you to preschool...all so i can make my 8:30 a.m. meeting at work??? (all this without any make-up and with my hair barely combed)

i know there are things i can do differently so it's not a battle every night when we put you down for bed and so that i am less tired when i wake up every morning.

like separate you.
or take the toys out of your room permanently.
or take down the nightlight and have it be completely dark.
or not keep you up with me to watch Idol, or Survivor or some other silly reality show.
or not stay up after i've put you down to surf the internets & facebook, or do work.

but i haven't acted on those ideas.

you know why?

because i inherently have faith that you will be able to deal and work through it. because you're 4 now.
and because i have an aspiration that instead of changing my habits, you may even adapt (even though i know it's unfair to expect from you).

or maybe sometimes i just don't want to deal which is why i am sitting here typing and venting instead of intervening and telling you for the 7th time to go to bed...because i'm so dang tired.

and that if i do go in there and intervene, i may have a mommy-dearest moment and say something i don't want to say or say something in a tone that i will regret later. and that you will be angry with me and resent me.

or maybe i'm just hoping that at some point ignoring your late-night-you-really-should-be-sleeping-banter is OK and that in a few minutes i'll have peace and quiet as you slowly fall into slumber.

......

which is what i now have, 25 minutes into typing this post.

whew.

ok, that felt good.

good night.

I'm ba-ack.

Someone on FB reminded me the other day that I needed to update my blog (yes, that's you, M). And so I am.

I have to remember that I should not feel pressure to update this thing. And that this is here for my enjoyment, my venting outlet, and that updating this should be a fun thing.

It had been so long since I have updated this blog that I started feeling guilty for not updating it. And instead of addressing the guilt by taking action and blogging (even for just a short post), I kept prolonging it and then felt more and more guilty. Because of my guilt, I kept prolonging it and got into this virtuous cycle. (ever get into those cycles or is it just crazy me?!)

Well, I'm back. And I'm blogging. Even if it's about nothing. Or something short and quick. Or a silly, mundane thing that happened to me or the kids or US that I want to remember.

Because that's why I started this thing to begin with - to remember this crazy, busy, insane time in our lives when the kids are still this big, and life is THIS busy. Everyone I know with bigger or grown-up kids tells me that this time - this very special time - just zips by in a flash...and that someday, I'll want to remember and look back on these treasured days when the kids actually still want to hang out with me (instead of their friends) and when they are still so small that I can carry them without throwing out my back.

So here I am.

'xplainin the absence

busy, busy at work... management presentations galore.

family funeral last week in which i wrote the eulogy (more to come on this when i am repaired from this experience).

husband traveled this week, leaving me with kids all week long - along with a full plate at work. was pulling hair out.  four. days. straight.

i'll be back, just can't function enough to write a coherent blog post. 

am only capable of phrases and short snippets, a la Facebook statuses.

am depleted of energy but the old me shall return soon, thanks to my new found solace in yoga.

ooohhhhhmmmmm.

Mammed up and A-OK

Let me just start this post by saying that I have some strong hypochondriac tendencies.

When I get a bad migraine or start forgetting things, I think I have a brain tumor.

When I start to get the dullest of pain in my joints, I think I'm getting arthritis or think that I need to see an orthopedist because I might need surgery for seemingly permanent damage. 

When I get a little soreness or lumpy in my boobs, I think it's breast cancer.

Well, I nearly scared myself last month and was so convinced  that something was wrong with my breasts last month.  Google and a semi-hypochondriac like myself are a scary combination.  So, for my annual "Well Woman" visit earlier this month, I demanded that I get a mammogram.  

Never mind that I am not yet 40.  

Never mind that I don't have any real lumps that I could feel. 

Never mind that there is no history of breast cancer in my family.

Something just felt a little off.   I just wanted it for my piece of mind.

Not to mention, I am slowly inching towards the 40's and a few people (including friends or relatives of friends) I know have been diagnosed...Maybe it's just my age group, but I am slowly starting to become aware of the fact that it could happen.

So, while I was with the doctor for my "Well Woman" appointment, she told me that it was not likely going to be covered by insurance since I am not yet 40.  And then she proceeded to examine me.   Then she proceeded to tell me that she felt some density on my left breast. 

Hmmm.  Interesting.  

Not what I expected since I had been diligent about doing my own exams and had never before felt anything strange.

"Well, since I am feeling some density and because you seem to really want to get the mammogram, I will go ahead an order one."

Uh, OK.

Of course, with our fabulous (being facetious) health care system here in the States, I had to wait another 3 weeks before getting an appointment with radiology.

And this past Thursday, I finally had my appointment in the Breast Cancer Center radiology department of the hospital which mind you, is a large university teaching hospital.  Great.  The Breast Cancer Center radiology, as opposed to just any radiology department.  Not great for a hypo like me to enter a place like this.  I was kind of freaking out, but my 40+ female friends said not to worry...They basically ran me through the drill:

Don't wear any deodorant.  

Don't put lotion or perfume on your chest. 

Wear pants and a top, not a one-piece dress. 

Be prepared for some discomfort when they pancake your breasts top-to-bottom and left-to-right.

And even if they find something, chances are great that it could still be benign.  

Etc.

 

So I went in, changed into my exam garb and sat in the waiting room.  I was probably the youngest woman there (which made sense).  Then, I got called in and had my very first mammogram and ultrasound.  And it wasn't so bad.

The worst of it was waiting for the radiologist's review and wondering if my life was going to change significantly.

And.  The.  News. Was.

Negative.  

Phhhheewwww.

I'm sure this means that I will now worry about some other ailment that I don't have.

Whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man

It's been a while since I've posted about Barack Obama so I thought I would do it again for good measure, especially in anticipation (and celebration!) of his upcoming inauguration to be our 44th President (yah!!!!!) on January 20th.  

Truly a big moment for our country.  We have come such a long way.

A friend posted this article on Facebook today of an open letter from Barack to his daughters, Malia and Sasha.  In it, he shares why he embarked on his campaign journey and what he envisions for his little girls and all children.

I so <3 heart <3 Barack.  I so hope he does not disappoint and that he exceeds all expectations.

Godspeed, President-Elect Obama.

Dodging bullets like Neo...and prevailing

Remember the movie The Matrix?  

Well, I felt like Keanu Reaves's character "Neo" this week, dodging bullets in slow motion while the world around me kept moving at normal speed.

If I'm being vague, it's intentional.   You can probably guess why.

It's the economy, stupid, as Slick Willy used to say.

But, I'm hanging in there, like everyone else in the world right now.

Because we have to.

Writing Exercise for the Soul

I found this writing exercise from a blog friend, Aaryn Belfer, who I also happen to have met through mutual friends in real life before I re-met her in the blogosphere.  (Go figure...Small world, indeed).  Anyway,  she has a blog I stalk on occasion.   She is also a brilliant photographer and staff writer for CityBeat here in San Diego.  

Anyway,  I really loved what this writing exercise illuminated about her, even though I barely know her.  I decided to do this for myself and post it here.  I know am putting myself out there by doing this, but it also feels strangely liberating.   And it makes me feel so damn self-aware.

If you read this and decide to do this as well, please let me know.  I would love, love, love to check it out.

__________________________________________

I live my life with purpose, but all too often with an eye toward the future instead of the present.  And I am all too aware of it.

I work to satisfy a need I have to do something more than be a wife, a mom, a...whatever.  And even though it takes away from precious family time on occasion, I need to be unapologetic about it.

I talk out loud to myself when I need to build up my confidence about something I need to say. Sometimes I think I'm crazy.

I wish that I didn't worry as much as I do as it's causing me not to live more in the moment.

I enjoy spending Saturday mornings  listening to my children play and interact with one another upstairs while my husband and I enjoy a coffee and reflect on our great life together, all the while our favorite iPod playlist is playing our life soundtrack in the background.

I look at my midsection every day and vow to get a tummy tuck...one of these days.

I smell my children's scent and deeply breathe in their aura every time I hug them.  Pure bliss.

I hide my insecurities from very few, but for the most part, I am an open book.

I pray when I run.  More like reflect.  Running provides a state of spirituality for me that I cannot find in any organized religious forum.

I walk only when I can't run.  Walking feels wimpy to me.

I sing at the top of my lungs in the car when I'm by myself.  Especially during American Idol season when I realize that anyone can be a rock star if they really wanted to set their mind to it.

I can do-it-all-dammit.  Or at least I try.    Just watch me, and maybe I'll even try harder.

I watch my husband interact with our children and am in awe of him and how patient and loving he is with them.   I really lucked out when I married him.  

I yearn to travel the world, live overseas and be an ex-pat, but realize that our life here could severely limit the prospect of doing so.  Which leads me to...

I daydream about being a contestant on the Amazing Race with my husband and seeing how it would potentially hurt or strengthen our marriage.  After all, it is our mutual love of travel and wanderlust that initially brought us together.  I also daydream (can I do another one??) of winning the lottery and what I would do with the money.  I wonder how it would change our lives, positively and negatively.  

I want (secretly) sometimes to keep up with the Joneses but then I catch myself doing it and then blow it off as a silly thought.

I cry at the drop of a hat, at the smallest things, and things that don't really warrant tears. Commercials, cheesy movies, even NCAA championships and Superbowl games.  Vaccination shots, kids' holiday pageants, you name it.

I read too little (in this post-babies era) and when I do I am embarrassed to tell people what I read because they consist of non-intelligent things.   Like Us magazine.  Or Lucky.   Or Perez Hilton.com.   Hey, I think political websites count as intelligent right?

I love my life but often wonder what other untapped potential there is waiting for me.

I wonder what is going on in my children's heads when I am conversing with them.

I touch my children's face and am in awe that there is still a whole lifetime of highs and lows that they have yet to experience.  And...

I hurt knowing that my children will at some point feel pain, sadness, guilt, inadequacy but that with the right coping skills that  we can help instill in them, they will be OK.

I fear dying and being abandoned, but I take solace in the fact that I attempt to live each day with purpose. 

I hope that the new president-elect does not disappoint.  The world's hopes lie in his ability to lead, especially after 8 years of virtually no leadership.

I eat out less often than I used to when I was single.  And when I do, it usually involves somewhere loud and a coloring book menu and crayons.

I break promises to my children sometimes when I bribe them.  When I see the look of disappointment in their faces, it breaks my heart and I think I'm a terrible mother.

I quit my unhealthy social smoking habit years ago, but I still sometimes crave a cigarette. Especially after a few glasses of wine.  Because it makes me feel like a bad-ass.

I bathe with my children in the shower and have come to really enjoy the typically mundane bath-time routine through their eyes.  Who knew that cups and bath paints could entertain so much?

I drink too much caffeine and alcohol and too little water.

I save like I am an immigrant who is hording cash to send back to the family in the motherland. Perhaps because that is what my parents did when I was growing up?

I hug my children's little bodies and savor their petite size now, knowing that hugs will come fewer and far between in several years.

 

I miss the giddiness I used to feel when I first met my husband and yearn for that giddiness on those many days in recent years when I feel as if we are two ships passing in the night.  And I wonder if all marriages follow this pattern and realize I am not alone.

I forgive my father, who has hurt me too many times during the most important events of my life.  I now realize that he has always been an attention-seeker and this was his way of satisfying this need.

I've learned that marriage is an unnatural act.  Putting two people together for the rest of their lives just goes against basic human instincts.  This is why marriage takes work.  And if you have found the right person it makes all the work worth it.

I have wonderful girlfriends who keep me grounded and in check, when my husband can't.

I don't have to do anything I don't want, but sometimes I do out of a sense of responsibility and obligation, because that's how I was raised.

I kiss my kids every night and stare at them as they sleep.  I love that peace I feel when I look at my slumbering children (as opposed to when they are awake and jumping on me).

I wonder if I've learned anything new about myself going through this exercise...

Fear and loathing in America

There was a lot of hullaballoo this week about the recent McCain/Palin rallies and all of the fear and loathing that these candidates have incited at these events.

"Arab!"     "Terrorist!"      "Kill Him!"  

Basically, it was everything short of calling the man a N -----, which, I have no doubt, was  being privately harbored or said under one's breath by many.

I've watched endless news and YouTube videos this week of these rallies.  And I took heed of the audience's background comments as Palin made insinuations of Obama's dangerousness and terrorist associations.  Not surprisingly, I  became more and more appalled, and more and more saddened by what I was seeing.  

And then, I got bitter.  So bitter that I became almost obsessed about this turn of events this week, wondering how this incitement of fear and loathing would impact the polls and the tide of the election.   And more importantly, I wondered what types of deep-rooted, downright ugly sentiments would surface from the American electorate when stoked by others...in this case, pitbull Palin.

It harkened me back to a time when I was an awkward teenager living in Charlotte, North Carolina, just having moved from the cultural melting-pot of Northern California.   My bitterness was rooted in a seminal event from my youth: when I had first heard racial slurs directed at me from some ignorant teenagers at a Burger King drive-thru.  

"Chink!  Go back to your own country!"  

they yelled with a North Carolina southern twang.

Needless to say, I was shocked.  And angry.   And I told myself that these people were ignorant, stupid fools.  (By the way, there are very nice people in the state of North Carolina...I just happened to run into some unfortunate ones that night).

"There are other countries besides China in the continent of Asia.  These dumbasses think that every Asian is Chinese.   How stupid!  They probably can't even name other Asian countries on the map!"  

This is what I justified to myself as a 1st generation Filipino who had just been called a chink.  And after this,  I vowed to myself that when I grew up I was never going to live in a non-socially progressive place again  - I did not want my children to ever experience this kind of disdain and disrespect (little did I know how naive that thinking was).  

So back to the events of this week.  

I wondered who these people at these rallies are.  Are they the sons and daughters of small-town U.S.A.??  Of bumblef&ck hicksville??  It also made me wonder - are there many closeted, narrow-minded people here in my own backyard of the so-called socially progressive, culturally-tolerant state of California??  

Who are these people making these awful comments and where the hell did they come from?! 

And sadly, these were my angry thoughts as I tried to rationalize what I was seeing:

They are certainly not people that I dare associate with.  

Nor will we ever be cut from the same cloth.  

Because I am more educated and open-minded than these people.  (yeah, yeah, call me an elitist)

And they are just a bunch of...retards.

But then I realized, and a fellow socially-progressive friend (thanks, M!) reminded me:  mocking and making fun of these people does not advance our cause; it only serves to fuel the fire and further polarize Americans into the elitists and non-elitists, the progressives and the conservatives, the free-thinkers and the narrow-minded, the well-informed and the ignorant.

And today, McCain attempted to tame the flame that his campaign had started, whether they intended to do this or not.  Unfortunately, this flame may turn into a fire that will continue to burn, if not on the surface then in the closets and basements...and nothing can be done to put it out.  This ugliness is what scares me the most -- for our generation and for our children's generation.  

So, now, I must have patience.  Patience that America will come through.  Patience that some good will come out of this.   Patience that the dark days we Americans are feeling are almost behind us.  Patience that the hope I continue to feel is palpable and real and is practically within our reach.

And I must continue to have tolerance that not everyone sees the world as I do.  And that there is still some ugliness that exists in this world.  In this country.  And probably even in my own socially progressive backyard here in the state of California.

Patience and tolerance does not come easy for this working mom of twins, but for the sake of my sanity over the next 25 days left in this campaign, I will certainly try.

Thank goodness for Tivo

It seems that everyone's talking about politics today and I am making a concerted effort not to (only because I am getting really obsessed about it and talk-- or read -- about it incessantly when I'm not talking about the kids or work or my other pastimes.)

Sooooo...I thought that I would write about something completely innocuous and mundane like my excitement over the TeeVee fall line-up of premieres that I am looking forward to checking out, starting with...

1) The Amazing Race

My fave, fave, fave reality show of all time - even more than Survivor. I love seeing these random couples duke it out against each other and also be put in precarious situations where they need to work out Roadblocks or Detours or FastForwards, etc.  Not to mention, Phil Keoghan is probably the least annoying of all the reality show hosts...This show harkens me back to the old days when Dave and I used to jaunt to Aruba, Florence, Istanbul, Costa Rica, Sydney...satisfying our wanderlust.   Since we've had the twinsies, we've (or should I say I have) started at least 2 show applications but have never dared send it in.  Maybe next time I'll actually do it??!  We can bill ourselves as the "yuppie-couple-from-So-Cal-who-met-and-fell-in-love-because-of-their-mutual-wanderlust-and-now-have-young-kids-and-miss-it-so."  I really think we could get cast, and win,  if we really tried.

2) Survivor: Gabon

I have been a fan of Survivor since Season 2.  I remember catching the last epi of Season 1 when Richard Hatch won wondering what all the fuss was about it.  Well, now I know!  And 17 seasons later, here I am anxiously awaiting the latest - Survivor in Gabon, Africa.  I love all the strategery   (hehe) of the game and watching everyone outwit, outplay, outlast the other.  Can't wait to find another character I love to hate.

3) Grey's Anatomy

So goes another season of Meredith and Derek, Izzie and George, Christina, Bailey and the others.  I've been watching since Grey's was a pilot after the Superbowl a couple of years ago. And even with all of the ridiculousness that has transpired over the last couple of years, I am still watching it.  For no other reason except that it feels like such a great escape to me since these characters are nothing like my life today.

4) The Office

Dunder Mifflin rocks.  So does Schrute.  Need I say more?

5) Lipstick Jungle

I tuned in last year by accident.  I was up a few nights doing work and it happened to be on the TeeVee a few times.  Now I am  totally into it.  I love all 3 of their characters and most especially, I can relate to Brooke Shields's character as the full-time working mom exec with the supportive hubby.   I also love the backdrop of New York City.  It's such a fabulous place to watch these fabulous women live their fabulous lives.

6) 90210

Yes, I am one of those mid-30 somethings that back in the day watched Brenda and Brandon Walsh  fit in with the likes of Kelly Taylor, Dylan McKay, Donna Martin and Andrea Zuckerman at West Beverly High.  I remember watching this show (along with Melrose Place, of course) in college and having a whole social gathering with my sorority sisters planned entirely around the epi.  90210 is to my generation what the OC and Gossip Girl is to today's legion of youth. It's only been 2 epis and I am already sucked in.  And of course, I can't even remotely relate to this age group anymore, but it's still a nice guilty pleasure.

7) Desperate Housewives

Even though the storyline has gotten more and more out of hand the last few seasons, I can't help but tune in to the women of Wisteria Lane season in and season out.  Bree, Lynette, Gabrielle and Susan are all caricatures of every day women we know and love, and the great part of this is that we can see a little bit of each of them in us.

8) NFL

Go Chargers!

Wow, that was nice to talk about something else besides politics for a change.  

Thank goodness for Tivo.

BE it, don't just do it

So I told myself that I wasn't going to use this forum (too much) to even remotely pontificate (and/or rant, as I have been doing) on politics.

But lately I am finding that I can't help myself.

Why?

Because I CARE what happens to our country. And because I CARE how it affects my family and my kids, especially. And just because I lean left, that does not mean that I am not patriotic and I don't love America. Quite the contrary.

Tonight I read a very good, succinct blog post from Jamie Lee Curtis, the actress no less, on The Huffington Post. And she had echoed some things Obama said this weekend that I said a few days ago after having listened to Ms. Palin's RNC speech thinking to myself,

"Uh, oh...she was good (delivering from a teleprompter). SO GOOD that people are going to forget she's a friggin' puppet and be brainwashed by all of this KarlRovian garbage...like they were brainwashed in 2004 and 2000 - Lord help us."

Anyway, something in Jamie Lee's post struck me, and it was what she had quoted from Gandhi:

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world."

While this is not the first time I've seen this quote, it really resonated with me, in particular, related to this election.

With all of this talk about "change" from both sides (especially now that McCain decided to take on this as his campaign message), and with all of the GOP mockery of community organizers, this was the kick in the pants I needed. For me and the now and how I can make a difference come November 4th.

And as a registered Democrat and strong supporter of Barack Obama, I realized that I mustn't just sit here and let 2004 happen all over again. I needed to do my part outside of donating (which I have already done) or putting up lawn signs and bumper stickers in a state that will likely go blue anyway. And I can no longer be complacent and assume the last 8 years is enough to speak volumes and direct the American public to our candidate.

So this weekend, on a whim, I applied to help the Obama campaign and the Deputy Field Organizer Groups that they are mobilizing in California to spread the message to the audiences who most need to hear it. As such, the Obama campaign is recruiting a team of "community organizers" to attend Camp Obama with the goal of developing grassroots coalitions to gain victory in the battleground states. And while I can't travel to the battleground states with my current family and work responsibilities, I asked them if they could leverage me somehow remotely. I really don't know how, and highly doubt I will get "accepted" but I feel better knowing that I am trying to make a difference in this election.

Just BE it. My not-so-new mantra.

Not-so-new because when I stepped back to think about it, I've already started being some of the things I want to change in the world. But I still have more to be including making a difference (however small) with the choice of our new leader.

(ok, I'm done ranting for today.)

The sisterhood of the traveling pant(suits)

I have a cool group of Bunko chicas I've been hanging with this year. And while many of them are very similar to me personality-wise, others are not. But we do all have one thing in common: we are all mommies who are trying to do/have/balance-it-all, dammit.

Lately, our adventures and get-togethers have extended beyond our once a month girls-night-in playing Bunko. And many of them have become my friends.

We now go to each others' kids' birthday extravaganzas.

We attend each others' own birthday dinners.

We throw each other baby showers for #2 (or #3).

We support each others' fundraisers.

We sneak away during weekend errands to get manis and pedis together.

We get together in the guise of creating farm-fresh, organic meals for our families at those big-ass dinner-packaging places when we are really just looking for an excuse to have a glass of wine with our girlfriends during the week.

We support each other when getting botox and lipo...(oh, sorry, wrong mom's club...that's in Orange County)

We even walk 5ks, train for and run half marathons together.

And so, it's opened up a whole new social circle for me: the world of Southern California suburban super-mommies. They are MY sisterhood of the traveling pantsuits.

It's a world I always knew existed but never thought I would be a part of, at least 4 years ago when I started this adventure called parenting. And here I am in the thick of it...and I love it.

But lately, my husband has been complaining.

He thinks all of these social events weekend-in and weekend-out is just too much. And that it's taking away from us. The family. Even when a lot of our activities with the sisterhood of the traveling pantsuits involve the family (outside of Bunko of course).

So why is he still bitching about it?

I am hypothesizing it's because he is slightly jealous that I've developed a bond with these ladies that he hasn't replicated with guy friends since we've lived here. I'm also conjecturing that he does not like to have his social plans almost exclusively scheduled by me. But of course, he would never admit that to me.

Or is it because, at a fundamental level, he does not understand that women need other good female friends, that they feed off each other and rely so heavily upon the female bonds we make to feel normal and semi-validated?

And that the time we spend with other women vindicates all of the seemingly crazy emotions we feel as moms-trying-to-balance-it-all-dammit. And that all of this is just par for the course of attempting to be a super-mom, a super-woman in this day, in this age, in our situations?

Well, I don't know that he will ever really understand, but I guess that's why I rely on my sisterhood.