To boost my GPA back in my University days, I took Linguistics which is the scientific study of language. I'm positive the Latin root of the word "parenting" derives from the same etymology as "science experiment". As a strong type A personality and convicted control freak, being a parent is equivalent to taking all my perfectly organized files of life (color coded, alphabetized and in chronological sequence with sub-folders), dumping them onto the ground into one hot mess, and then for added flare light it on fire while doing a happy dance around it wearing nothing but a loin cloth and a head dress. I am an information collector. This has been my go to skill to navigating the fifty shades of grey in life. I read, and read, and then read some more, and when I think I got everything, read material in another language. My self-directed studies in Parenting 101 has me at a Doctorate level with all the information that I acquired. Now here's the kicker... very little of that information applies to my situation or my family! In fact, it's so useless that I would say my studies in Statistics made more sense to me (which by the way I passionately failed twice and only barely passed on my third time by cheating). The other go to life skill I use is "break all the rules" once I have mastered them. Well obviously I haven't mastered parenting because my children haven't saved the world (yet), so by default due to lack of content, I have broken essentially all the rules. So, I have re-written the code of conduct on the sacred art of Parenting. Part of the sacred art of Parenting is never admitting you're bad at it. Well, I'm coming out of the closet because I want Steph to know that she has very low standards to meet which means our screwed up families should blend beautifully together when her wee ones are walking this Earth. I find that the root of heartache is having expectations so if I just blow these out of the water for her, she will continue to be her happy go lucky self, even as a mom. Here is a continuation of my Parenting fails:
12. You might as well name the second child as the "Forgotten One." Unlike Tai, Kaiya doesn't actually photographically exist. If you walked into my home, you will see beautiful pictures of Tai, adoringly captured and beautifully framed at every milestone in his life. Try finding a picture of Kaiya and you'll be looking until the cows come home. In fact, Penny our shih tzu has a photo on our bookshelf and even my best friend's kids, Jaiden and Vanessa has a space on our fridge amongst all the school newsletters and kid art. Sad, I know. It's not like I haven't taken any photos of her, I have... mind you only at about at 25% of the volume of Tai's. It's just that we haven't had time to print and frame one. The second child is like the Bermuda Triangle. You have less time, you are more confident in your ability of not killing your babies (perhaps this is a false confidence albeit it still there) so somewhere in that equation weird things happen to the second child. They tend to be crazier because you are more relaxed about things like letting them eat dirt or during your pregnancy you drank coffee and ate sushi. You learn that you don't always have to change that wet diaper right away because the advertising print on the Huggies packaging says it can stay dry up to 10 hours. I mean, the marketers always tell the truth right? You dress the second child in hand me downs and it doesn't bother you that the pants are cameo and the top is actually a dress meant for an Easter formal dinner. As long she is not indecently exposing her parts, she'll be fine. It builds character and puts hair on your chest.
13. Kaiya-The-Forgotten-One is consistently an exceptionally dirty kid. It's a good thing my own mother is not reading this because this one will bring great shame to the Asian family... like the whole nine yards of shame. Like the little red dragon explains on Disney's Mulan, "dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow"... EVERYTHING! You can have a million screwed up variables but the Asian child shall never look like a dirty white kid. When you meet Kaiya, on her good days you can tell what she ate because it's still on her clothes. She will have a boogery, crusty mustache, her hair is all wildly tangled and her hands has permanent marker on it mixed with some dirt. On her bad days, everything remains the same except she has no clothes on. This chick is a dirt magnet. Dress her like a princess and in three seconds flat she'll manage to look like an orphan. I just gave up on chasing her with Lysol wipes. With the time saved, I do mounds and mounds of laundry.
14. Our freezer is packed with frozen mini pepperoni pizzas, fries, chicken nuggets and popsicles. Dinner time is always a battle. Trying to shove nutrients down Tai's throat is like watching a monk meditate. It's heart wrenchingly painful. One night, out of sheer insanity I made him sit there until he was finished his plate. We started at 6:00P and at 10:00P I threw in the towel and sent him to bed hungry. Chris does all the cooking in our family and on most days he has to make two separate meals, one for us and one for the kids just to make sure they eat. If he doesn't, we pay the price with a night of crying, whining and Tai using his ninja skills to offload whatever he doesn't like eating either to the dog, or into garbage or the toilet when we're not looking. If Chris is not home and I'm responsible for cooking, I consider instant noodles a healthy food group because like it or not, that MSG has kept us Asians looking suspiciously younger than most of our global counterparts.
15. Birthdays are a non-event. I hate entertaining groups of people. My mother in law is fabulous at it. I suspect she has a team of magical gnomes stashed away some where because at all her family parties her house is immaculate, her food is Top Chef grade and prepared by her, the fine china is well presented, the wine is always flowing, she looks beautiful, the conversations keep mingling and everyone is having a grand old time. I just can't pull off that shit. My level of expertise is grilling hot dogs on the BBQ, you help yourself to the bin of booze or stay thirsty, there may or may not be enough toilet paper in the bathroom, instead of an ice sculpture there is a large garbage can placed strategically for all to see so you can dispose your own paper plates and if you can't find a friend amongst the crowd to strike up a conversation then go hang out all awkwardly by yourself in the corner. I'll be frantically grabbing all the half empty cans of pop and booze before Kaiya gets a hold of it. Now I understand why my parents never celebrated our birthdays as it's a load of time, boat loads of money and more stressful than preparing taxes. Yes one day this Mama will pull the immigrant card handed down from my parents and say... Nammer people don't celebrate birthdays because white people are weird.
16. I love hand-me downs. It's like my version of couponing. The funny thing is that when Tai was born, it never occurred to me that with the onset of every season, I need to buy him a brand new wardrobe because he outgrew everything so quickly. I made the rookie mistake of spending a lot of money on his clothes in the first year and then realized that the brand names are for my own ego. Now, my girlfriend Khanh gives me her kid's hand me downs and with my mother in law's shopping addiction, I don't spend that much on their wardrobe. The money I saved, I spend on things like a second iPad so they don't fight.
17. On long car rides, Kaiya may or may not be safely in her car seat. It's either that or I throw myself out the door because throwing her out the door might land me in jail.
18. Sometimes a well placed, strategically smack on the robust buttocks of Miss Kaiya-The-Forgotten/Stubborn-One will save years of her being enrolled in rehab. Yes, when she gets really out of hand and is stubborn enough to endanger her life, I will smack her and I won't care who's looking. Bring your judge on, but of all my parenting faults one thing I have a strong conviction on is that my children will not be a burden to society when they are older. Even if I have to beat them down, they will always respect others and respect themselves.
19. If potty training doesn't come naturally, I won't push the issue. I have yet to see an adult walk around in diapers (unless for medical issues) so I figured everything that parents freak out about like walking, talking, eating, peeing in the toilet and growing teeth and hair will come when it comes. Some parents wear their mad potty training skills like a war scar. I would rather spend the time blogging about my mad parenting skills.
20. I don't attend pilates or yoga or meet up with other mommy groups and spend hours infatuated with being a "Yummy Mummy". I negatively connotate this term like an expired "hipster". The "Yummy Mummy" and "Martha Stewarts" of the world spend hours on Pinterest to create that perfect costume, or stay up until 3AM baking those on trend cake pops for fundraising or volunteer 28 hours in a day to eradicate the world of harmful BPAs in plastics. I don't effortlessly waltz to school every morning with hair and make-up fully on, in heeled boots, pushing the adorable baby that is wearing a mini version of your fabulous outfit in a Bugaboo stroller with a Starbucks in hand, your latest iPhone in the other and having your school kid dressed like he's attending a private academy marching all disciplined beside your Filipino nanny. I prefer sleeping in until the last possible second, rolling to school wearing whatever was on the floor the night before and Tai may or may not be wearing jeans with holes in the knees. I usually yell at him for being so slow, he usually tells me things like how Daddy taught him how to kill zombies and we both have bags under our eyes because Kaiya kept us both up all night with her usual charming self.
Steph, I know you will be in your element because unlike me, you aren't into yourself. Your personality is preset to Parenting perfection because you find moments like playing board games fun (I get ansty because I am literally "bored"). You enjoy slowing down to point out the the little caterpillar that has blended in with the leaf and you go with the flow. Like everything that is hard in life, I know that my kids will be my proudest achievements because they continually challenge every aspect of my life. In the meantime, I'll be hiding in the bathroom reading the new bestselling book on "The Spirited Child" while Kaiya runs around all frantic and screaming, playing with razor blades and practicing her Van Gogh skills with a permanent marker on Daddy's 54" new TV.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Friday, March 29, 2013
Parenting Fails - Part I
This October, I get to finally check something else off my bucket list. No it's not free falling out of an airplane but it has the same level of danger, exhilaration and adrenaline rush. I finally get to be an Auntie! My baby sister and best friend Steph is entering a new chapter in her life. Freshly married, and as predicted by the monsoon that besieged her vows in Mexico, she is carrying a precious gift of life. I have lovingly nicknamed the growing bump as Belly-Belly and because she's family, I get to molest her whenever the moment moves me. The funny thing is, as a big sister you have the heavy burden of making sure you are a role model to your siblings. I am writing this post more as a disclaimer to my baby sister that perhaps when it comes to parenting, she should seek another mentor. I have excelled in many things in life... parenting is just not one of them.
I remember bringing Tai home and the community nurse stopped by on the second day to go over all the services our wonderful health system offers. She discussed the "Blue Period" where a new mother may experience post partum depression and unintentionally harm her baby because of it. She calmly looked into my eyes and said, "Now you know that when you get really upset, you should not shake your baby right?" Due to a lethal combination of hormones crashing, bleeding like I'm dying while wearing a telephone book between my legs and lack of sleep I laughed out loud. Like, I REALLY laughed out loud. Like... maniacally tossed my head back and belted out a deep bellowing cackle. At the time, it seemed like the most ludicrous thing a person would tell you. Of course I wouldn't shake my baby! What kind of lunatic do you think I am? Fast forward two weeks later and I learned that Tai is what the medical community has labelled as colic. He was an inconsolable crier and would cry for long bouts even after he has been fed, changed and was rested. For a new mother the feeling that you can't even console your own child is up there on life's ultimate failure list. After the fourth hour of trying to do everything humanly possible I held out my crying baby and just like that my arms started to shake. I literally was shaking my baby. The haunting words of the community nurse came vehemently back and then I started to cry. I remembered she said to put the baby down in a safe place when it came to that point and just walk away to catch up on my thoughts. With tears burning into my cheeks, I kissed the top of my screaming newborn head and put him into the safety of his crib. I shut the door and walked downstairs. For the next twenty minutes I stared at the beige walls... in total bliss and tuned out the crying demon.
Tai is six years old now and I haven't killed him (yet). In fact, I thought it would be fun to test my boundaries and add to my insanity... er... I mean my family with Kaiya, who will be turning three in July. This generation of parenting is on crack. There I said it. I'm not sure if it's because so many parents are killing themselves by working that they compensate by hyperparenting out of guilt? Or perhaps this cyber world has us so connected that we realize at the tip of our fingers we can have information about anything we want. Unfortunately the backlash is we are bombarded with all these different benchmarks and "experts" that tell you what is good and what is wrong so you have a disillusion that one MUST parent a certain way or carry the dreaded social construct of being the parent of THAT kid. I'm not sure, but one thing I know for a fact is that these hover, super-parents have a bad habit of making my parenting skills look ghetto. Contrary to all the literature on perfect parenting circulating out there, I subscribed to the following ill-parenting practices:
1. I combo fed both babies with breast milk and formula. My husband is a big guy. We made big babies. Unfortunately breast feeding wasn't easy for me even after taking hormone inducing pills so I had to compensate with formula. When Kaiya was born I had to sign a release form from the nurse that I understood the consequences of feeding my child formula. It's like a four letter word in the baby world. Gawd... (eye roll)... yes I, Huong Nguyen, understand that my teeny Asian boobies don't produce enough milk to feed my giant half White babies thus injecting this formula into them will create Michelin rolls. You know, the kind where they get so chubilicious that you need to lift their four chins to clean out the milk coma before it turns to cheese. Tai was so fat at six months he had rashes because his heifer rolls rubbed against each other.
2. It was not love at first sight. Tai spent the first three months just crying. It's really, really, hard to love someone that screams at you for three to five hours at a time for no apparent reason. I did not have that instant deep bond of love until he outgrew his phase which was more at six months. When he finally showed some personality and realized that I wasn't such a horrible person, we did eventually fall in love.
3. I fed my babies food... from a jar. I did not spend more money buying organic yams harvested with magical love from a group of tree-hugging, whale-freeing David Suzukis and blended it with my overpriced, brand-name Kitchen Aid Cusinart that not only dices, chops and folds laundry but looks great parked by my Mercedes as well. The time I saved I did other things, like brush my teeth; and the money I saved I used to buy luxuries, like disposable diapers.
4. I am a technology whore and I use it liberally. My children sat many hours in the loving arms of their mechanical swing, watch a lot of TV, play a lot of video games and now hog my iPad. I will unapologetically spend good money to keep them quiet and from beating on each other. The alternative is I check myself into AA or become that mom that ran away from her family.
5. I am an excellent negotiator. I will bribe with threats, or candy, or a toy or staying up late to get the behavior I need. I don't have the patience to teach them to stop it because it's socially in appropriate to have a melt down right at nap time in the middle of a busy mall because Mommy didn't schedule the day so well.
6. I use drugs as a best defence. If we are travelling in small confinements, I will take one for the team and use physical force to shove medication down Kaiya's throat. It may look alarming to the untrained eye but you will thank me for not exposing you to a child that is screaming, squirming and kicking the back of your seat for the next eight hours.
7. I don't always share. If it's a really good chocolate bar, I will be hiding out in the closet enjoying ALL of it.
8. I don't believe my child needs to be scheduled into every activity to excel in life. There are parents that have their kids in everything from art classes to martial arts, to hockey, to piano lessons to French cooking classes to pre-algebra calculus in an attempt to create an exceptional child. And then they complain that they're so tired from being a professional driver. I hang out with my kids in the backyard. Kaiya shows me how she made two worms by pulling one big one apart. Tai is patiently constructing some kind of fortress out of sand just so his crazy sister will destroy it in one kick. I'm sitting in my hammock drinking a Corona and reading on Facebook all the moms that are stuck in traffic.
9. I prefer working than staying at home. My husband is a real live super hero. He has the emotional endurance to stay at home and run a daycare. I would rather poke my eyes out with burning sticks.
10. I don't do well with humans under four and a half feet. I can't relate and on most days I prefer the company of any other species like... goats or a pit full of venomous snakes.
11. There are days where the thought of throwing my kids out the window or strangling them brings me great pleasure. I hate those older parents that think they are offering sage advice when they say: Enjoy these moments, they grow up so fast! I just want to whack them upside their senile head and shout: You FORGOT how painful it is to be a parent! The moments that I consistently enjoy is bedtime.
I know... how on Earth did I get into breeding? Well, the good news is that we must have tricked Tai's kindergarten teacher pretty well because according to his first report card he is a well liked, talkative, inquisitive and bright young student with really good manners. He does need to work on raising his hand before speaking and remember to not interrupt others.
Oh well, no one is dead so I'll take that as a positive sign of progress. Don't worry Steph, I got this!
I remember bringing Tai home and the community nurse stopped by on the second day to go over all the services our wonderful health system offers. She discussed the "Blue Period" where a new mother may experience post partum depression and unintentionally harm her baby because of it. She calmly looked into my eyes and said, "Now you know that when you get really upset, you should not shake your baby right?" Due to a lethal combination of hormones crashing, bleeding like I'm dying while wearing a telephone book between my legs and lack of sleep I laughed out loud. Like, I REALLY laughed out loud. Like... maniacally tossed my head back and belted out a deep bellowing cackle. At the time, it seemed like the most ludicrous thing a person would tell you. Of course I wouldn't shake my baby! What kind of lunatic do you think I am? Fast forward two weeks later and I learned that Tai is what the medical community has labelled as colic. He was an inconsolable crier and would cry for long bouts even after he has been fed, changed and was rested. For a new mother the feeling that you can't even console your own child is up there on life's ultimate failure list. After the fourth hour of trying to do everything humanly possible I held out my crying baby and just like that my arms started to shake. I literally was shaking my baby. The haunting words of the community nurse came vehemently back and then I started to cry. I remembered she said to put the baby down in a safe place when it came to that point and just walk away to catch up on my thoughts. With tears burning into my cheeks, I kissed the top of my screaming newborn head and put him into the safety of his crib. I shut the door and walked downstairs. For the next twenty minutes I stared at the beige walls... in total bliss and tuned out the crying demon.
Tai is six years old now and I haven't killed him (yet). In fact, I thought it would be fun to test my boundaries and add to my insanity... er... I mean my family with Kaiya, who will be turning three in July. This generation of parenting is on crack. There I said it. I'm not sure if it's because so many parents are killing themselves by working that they compensate by hyperparenting out of guilt? Or perhaps this cyber world has us so connected that we realize at the tip of our fingers we can have information about anything we want. Unfortunately the backlash is we are bombarded with all these different benchmarks and "experts" that tell you what is good and what is wrong so you have a disillusion that one MUST parent a certain way or carry the dreaded social construct of being the parent of THAT kid. I'm not sure, but one thing I know for a fact is that these hover, super-parents have a bad habit of making my parenting skills look ghetto. Contrary to all the literature on perfect parenting circulating out there, I subscribed to the following ill-parenting practices:
1. I combo fed both babies with breast milk and formula. My husband is a big guy. We made big babies. Unfortunately breast feeding wasn't easy for me even after taking hormone inducing pills so I had to compensate with formula. When Kaiya was born I had to sign a release form from the nurse that I understood the consequences of feeding my child formula. It's like a four letter word in the baby world. Gawd... (eye roll)... yes I, Huong Nguyen, understand that my teeny Asian boobies don't produce enough milk to feed my giant half White babies thus injecting this formula into them will create Michelin rolls. You know, the kind where they get so chubilicious that you need to lift their four chins to clean out the milk coma before it turns to cheese. Tai was so fat at six months he had rashes because his heifer rolls rubbed against each other.
2. It was not love at first sight. Tai spent the first three months just crying. It's really, really, hard to love someone that screams at you for three to five hours at a time for no apparent reason. I did not have that instant deep bond of love until he outgrew his phase which was more at six months. When he finally showed some personality and realized that I wasn't such a horrible person, we did eventually fall in love.
3. I fed my babies food... from a jar. I did not spend more money buying organic yams harvested with magical love from a group of tree-hugging, whale-freeing David Suzukis and blended it with my overpriced, brand-name Kitchen Aid Cusinart that not only dices, chops and folds laundry but looks great parked by my Mercedes as well. The time I saved I did other things, like brush my teeth; and the money I saved I used to buy luxuries, like disposable diapers.
4. I am a technology whore and I use it liberally. My children sat many hours in the loving arms of their mechanical swing, watch a lot of TV, play a lot of video games and now hog my iPad. I will unapologetically spend good money to keep them quiet and from beating on each other. The alternative is I check myself into AA or become that mom that ran away from her family.
5. I am an excellent negotiator. I will bribe with threats, or candy, or a toy or staying up late to get the behavior I need. I don't have the patience to teach them to stop it because it's socially in appropriate to have a melt down right at nap time in the middle of a busy mall because Mommy didn't schedule the day so well.
6. I use drugs as a best defence. If we are travelling in small confinements, I will take one for the team and use physical force to shove medication down Kaiya's throat. It may look alarming to the untrained eye but you will thank me for not exposing you to a child that is screaming, squirming and kicking the back of your seat for the next eight hours.
7. I don't always share. If it's a really good chocolate bar, I will be hiding out in the closet enjoying ALL of it.
8. I don't believe my child needs to be scheduled into every activity to excel in life. There are parents that have their kids in everything from art classes to martial arts, to hockey, to piano lessons to French cooking classes to pre-algebra calculus in an attempt to create an exceptional child. And then they complain that they're so tired from being a professional driver. I hang out with my kids in the backyard. Kaiya shows me how she made two worms by pulling one big one apart. Tai is patiently constructing some kind of fortress out of sand just so his crazy sister will destroy it in one kick. I'm sitting in my hammock drinking a Corona and reading on Facebook all the moms that are stuck in traffic.
9. I prefer working than staying at home. My husband is a real live super hero. He has the emotional endurance to stay at home and run a daycare. I would rather poke my eyes out with burning sticks.
10. I don't do well with humans under four and a half feet. I can't relate and on most days I prefer the company of any other species like... goats or a pit full of venomous snakes.
11. There are days where the thought of throwing my kids out the window or strangling them brings me great pleasure. I hate those older parents that think they are offering sage advice when they say: Enjoy these moments, they grow up so fast! I just want to whack them upside their senile head and shout: You FORGOT how painful it is to be a parent! The moments that I consistently enjoy is bedtime.
I know... how on Earth did I get into breeding? Well, the good news is that we must have tricked Tai's kindergarten teacher pretty well because according to his first report card he is a well liked, talkative, inquisitive and bright young student with really good manners. He does need to work on raising his hand before speaking and remember to not interrupt others.
Oh well, no one is dead so I'll take that as a positive sign of progress. Don't worry Steph, I got this!
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
The Gift Of A Douche Bag Manager
Einstein echoed, “Great spirits have always encountered violent resistance from mediocre minds.”
The most inspiring stories always comes from a place of extreme criticism. There is something culturally traversing and soul reaching about an overweight person that was able to shed her decades and pounds of low self esteem and became an Olympian athlete. Or the uber nerd that was socially awkward and casted as a loser in his youngers years transform into a social media icon. Or the high school drop out that was deemed as a nuisance by teachers for his "learning disability" go on to win Nobel Prize awards. For every person criticizing another human being that they CAN'T or will NEVER or isn't GOOD ENOUGH, thank you for being an excellent teacher. The irony is, your negative and limiting feedback is most likely going to free that shackled Spirit to finally live their authentic life.
I have lots of bad habits. Some of them are harmless, like when I drink tea I stick my pinky out when I hold the cup even though my roots are not British or did I attend a finishing school. Some are kind of annoying, like my OCD need to straighten out things that are crooked. While others are more destructive, like my issues with incompetent people in leadership roles. Combine that with my other bad habit of needing to be right and what you have is a volcanic situation ripe for eruption.
I am the type of person that honestly, just doesn't give a damn of what you think of me. I learned at a really young age that I just can't please everyone. Somewhere in the world I will offend someone so I might as well just please myself (and while I'm at it, why not make an art out of offending people). The socially equipped people of the world have called me arrogant and egocentric... and those are just some of the nicer words. The insecure ones are threatened and so spend a lot of energy removing the threat.
On January 11, 2007, Tai was born and just like that, the ME of my identity became infinitesimally smaller. If you met "pre-kids" ME, you'll know that this is no minor feat. As I re-analyzed my world, it became abundantly clear that it had unceremoniously been knocked off its axis and started rotating around my son. I spent my maternity year adjusting all my perceptions in life and realized that I truly, really... knew NOTHING. I returned to work in 2008 and everything at work had changed. The corporate culture I was used to became very toxic in that the new upper management did not look too kindly on those that did not share their views. Unfortunately for them, I didn't respect their competence level so yes, I did have a need to share my concerns whether they enjoyed them or not. My immediate manager was in a nutshell, an incompetent douche bag that was threatened by me. I'm pretty sure her motive was to set me up to fail when I returned from mat leave. I was given the largest sales department, with the least amount of support, and the expectation to remodel it to bring the sales number from being one of the worst in the country to being the best. I love a good challenge. In six months I drew blood from a stone and proved that I was not just a pretty face. For the first time ever, the loser of a department was ranked as number one in the country in sales for three consecutive months. Sadly, there was a casualty amongst this battle. To make this happen, Tai was pretty much an orphaned child. This was our day. We would get up at 6:30AM, I left him at daycare at 7:30AM, sat in road rage for an hour, worked for 9 hours, rotted slowly in another hour in traffic, came home dogged tired and barely eeked out a bath and bedtime story at 7:30PM. Put this cycle on repeat for 5 (sometimes 6) of the 7 days and I'm pretty sure this is the definition of insanity. Yes I made good money but at the end of the day I sacrificed my child and I wasn't even happy doing it.
Six months after I returned back at work, I get dragged (yet again) back into the "room" with my asshat of a manager. Usually there is some long winded conversation about me not "playing well" with upper management because I was spewing forth truth instead of mediocracy. This time she felt it was necessary to write me up for not working 50% of the weekends which was expected. Funny how she was able to notice that I missed three of the last Saturdays but failed to recognize that I worked almost all the weekends 4 months prior to this. So... this is where that bad habit of mine played a pivotal role. Instead of letting her write me up (for the record, I usually get promoted not performance corrected) I opened my big mouth and told her exactly what I thought of her. And then... I quit and walked out. I skipped happily down the hallway, with my middle finger enthusiastically saluting and even though I didn't have to see it, I can hear her jaw drop to the ground.
Five years later I am living out one of my dreams. I am the proud co-owner of a company and we specialize in happiness. I educate people on how to create beautiful surroundings that resonates with them and I love what I do. As much as I love what I do, the most I love about my job is that I have the freedom to spend a lot of time with my family. I don't miss birthdays, or special milestones or am so tired from work that I don't have the energy to play with my kids. I am not at the mercy of an idiot and I am free to create whatever I feel like creating. Yes the stress is different as an entrepreneur but I am learning to trust that if you do what you love, the Law Of Attraction will pay homage and your basic financial needs will take care of itself.
Your purpose in life is to live YOUR authentic life. Luckily for us, this world is full of unexpected teachers that will assist you in pointing the compass in the direction of your heart. You will find that your biggest heartaches in life can be your biggest opportunity to fuel your wake up call and do what you were born to do. Some people think your purpose needs to be monumental and you need to save this Earth. This Earth doesn't need to be saved and you are not a victim. Your purpose is to do what makes you happy. If you find joy in something and you keep practicing it because it brings you sheer happiness then believe it or not, one day you will be really good at what you do. It's the annoying part of doing what you love doing... you eventually become an expert and people seek you out because (gasp) you inspired them out of their own personal hell hole.
Believe it or not, even your negative experience is a gift. If your teacher is kind, the feedback will allow you to sharpen your direction in life. If your teacher was an effin' ass-monkey like mine, the criticism will affirm your strengths and your purpose will shine regardless of their negativity. Haters of the world, thank you for unleashing the highest level of self expression in our Spirit. Without you, there would be no story of The Little Engine That COULD and DID.
The most inspiring stories always comes from a place of extreme criticism. There is something culturally traversing and soul reaching about an overweight person that was able to shed her decades and pounds of low self esteem and became an Olympian athlete. Or the uber nerd that was socially awkward and casted as a loser in his youngers years transform into a social media icon. Or the high school drop out that was deemed as a nuisance by teachers for his "learning disability" go on to win Nobel Prize awards. For every person criticizing another human being that they CAN'T or will NEVER or isn't GOOD ENOUGH, thank you for being an excellent teacher. The irony is, your negative and limiting feedback is most likely going to free that shackled Spirit to finally live their authentic life.
I have lots of bad habits. Some of them are harmless, like when I drink tea I stick my pinky out when I hold the cup even though my roots are not British or did I attend a finishing school. Some are kind of annoying, like my OCD need to straighten out things that are crooked. While others are more destructive, like my issues with incompetent people in leadership roles. Combine that with my other bad habit of needing to be right and what you have is a volcanic situation ripe for eruption.
I am the type of person that honestly, just doesn't give a damn of what you think of me. I learned at a really young age that I just can't please everyone. Somewhere in the world I will offend someone so I might as well just please myself (and while I'm at it, why not make an art out of offending people). The socially equipped people of the world have called me arrogant and egocentric... and those are just some of the nicer words. The insecure ones are threatened and so spend a lot of energy removing the threat.
On January 11, 2007, Tai was born and just like that, the ME of my identity became infinitesimally smaller. If you met "pre-kids" ME, you'll know that this is no minor feat. As I re-analyzed my world, it became abundantly clear that it had unceremoniously been knocked off its axis and started rotating around my son. I spent my maternity year adjusting all my perceptions in life and realized that I truly, really... knew NOTHING. I returned to work in 2008 and everything at work had changed. The corporate culture I was used to became very toxic in that the new upper management did not look too kindly on those that did not share their views. Unfortunately for them, I didn't respect their competence level so yes, I did have a need to share my concerns whether they enjoyed them or not. My immediate manager was in a nutshell, an incompetent douche bag that was threatened by me. I'm pretty sure her motive was to set me up to fail when I returned from mat leave. I was given the largest sales department, with the least amount of support, and the expectation to remodel it to bring the sales number from being one of the worst in the country to being the best. I love a good challenge. In six months I drew blood from a stone and proved that I was not just a pretty face. For the first time ever, the loser of a department was ranked as number one in the country in sales for three consecutive months. Sadly, there was a casualty amongst this battle. To make this happen, Tai was pretty much an orphaned child. This was our day. We would get up at 6:30AM, I left him at daycare at 7:30AM, sat in road rage for an hour, worked for 9 hours, rotted slowly in another hour in traffic, came home dogged tired and barely eeked out a bath and bedtime story at 7:30PM. Put this cycle on repeat for 5 (sometimes 6) of the 7 days and I'm pretty sure this is the definition of insanity. Yes I made good money but at the end of the day I sacrificed my child and I wasn't even happy doing it.
Six months after I returned back at work, I get dragged (yet again) back into the "room" with my asshat of a manager. Usually there is some long winded conversation about me not "playing well" with upper management because I was spewing forth truth instead of mediocracy. This time she felt it was necessary to write me up for not working 50% of the weekends which was expected. Funny how she was able to notice that I missed three of the last Saturdays but failed to recognize that I worked almost all the weekends 4 months prior to this. So... this is where that bad habit of mine played a pivotal role. Instead of letting her write me up (for the record, I usually get promoted not performance corrected) I opened my big mouth and told her exactly what I thought of her. And then... I quit and walked out. I skipped happily down the hallway, with my middle finger enthusiastically saluting and even though I didn't have to see it, I can hear her jaw drop to the ground.
Five years later I am living out one of my dreams. I am the proud co-owner of a company and we specialize in happiness. I educate people on how to create beautiful surroundings that resonates with them and I love what I do. As much as I love what I do, the most I love about my job is that I have the freedom to spend a lot of time with my family. I don't miss birthdays, or special milestones or am so tired from work that I don't have the energy to play with my kids. I am not at the mercy of an idiot and I am free to create whatever I feel like creating. Yes the stress is different as an entrepreneur but I am learning to trust that if you do what you love, the Law Of Attraction will pay homage and your basic financial needs will take care of itself.
Your purpose in life is to live YOUR authentic life. Luckily for us, this world is full of unexpected teachers that will assist you in pointing the compass in the direction of your heart. You will find that your biggest heartaches in life can be your biggest opportunity to fuel your wake up call and do what you were born to do. Some people think your purpose needs to be monumental and you need to save this Earth. This Earth doesn't need to be saved and you are not a victim. Your purpose is to do what makes you happy. If you find joy in something and you keep practicing it because it brings you sheer happiness then believe it or not, one day you will be really good at what you do. It's the annoying part of doing what you love doing... you eventually become an expert and people seek you out because (gasp) you inspired them out of their own personal hell hole.
Believe it or not, even your negative experience is a gift. If your teacher is kind, the feedback will allow you to sharpen your direction in life. If your teacher was an effin' ass-monkey like mine, the criticism will affirm your strengths and your purpose will shine regardless of their negativity. Haters of the world, thank you for unleashing the highest level of self expression in our Spirit. Without you, there would be no story of The Little Engine That COULD and DID.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Shift Happens
"So... you're not really from here... eh?" I throw all my charm and then sarcastically emphasize the stereotypical Canadian "Eh."
"Nope, but I love being here. It's nice and cold."
For a person that has seen more shades of grey in Raincouver than the bestselling soft porn series, I roll my eyes and loudly groan, "Dude... you are one weird little man."
"I thought we have already established that. Remember... I'm an alien," he giggles. I'm driving in the dark so my usual approach of studying his facial expressions would technically mean I wrote my own death certificate. Regardless if my two eyes can't provide evidence, my third eye tells me he's grinning ear to ear with his proclamation. I silently faced palmed myself and chuckled, "I forgot you're a master starseed and lucky for me we both eloquently speak the same language. Sarcasm."
So a quick overview from "Spiritual Shit For Dummies." (On a random side note I'm totally thinking I should write this book). There are teachings out there that say 30% of the spirits hanging out on Earth actually have soul origins from other galaxies or planets or dimensions or star systems (insert all things ET). Categorized as starseeds, these souls usually are here on a mission to assist the Earth souls with, well... let's face it... we need all the help we can get on this 'effed up world. Of the 30%, one percent of these Spirits are master starseeds. What has earned them the title of master is that they have reached spiritual and physical maturation and when the time is right, their code is activated and their "veil of amnesia" is lifted. I swear to you. As good as my imagination is, I can't even make up this kind of shit. So in a nutshell, Trevor has the unhuman gift of being directly linked into other light beings that don't live here on this Earth. On his journeys, his Spirit travels to where his Guides are and they literally download information into him. Other intuitives practice mediumship where information is given to them through an open channel. The tricky side of mediumship or channelling is that depending on the channeller's perceptions and life experiences, the subtle information travelling through this dense planet is most likely going to be discombobulated and inevitably misunderstood. So if that message from your beloved dead Aunt Edna was suppose to be: "Kick that asshole to the curb and don't worry I got your back" could have easily been misread as "Kiss that apple on the nerd and wash your rack." Obviously you're going to think your psychic link has had one too many Bailey's in the morning or if you're a strong believer in her abilities you're going to be kissing a whole lot of random nerds in hopes of finding that prince. Trevor doesn't have to go through misreading anything. Like a computer, he just shows up at said destination, calmly chit chats about the idiots inhabiting Earth with said Guides, they download him the next set of Divine code and he perks right into action with what needs to be done. The information is purely and cleanly uploaded with no distortion of miscommunication. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? I know right? Insane.
So what does a master starseed look like? Humbly, like an ordinary man. Due to my svelte Facebook stalking prowess, I have seen his profile picture before meeting him. He kind of looks like one of those muppets on Sesame Street because when he smiles, his smile is so giant that it takes up half of his head. When I finally met him in person, I teased him about being short and his response was, "Isn't that like calling the kettle black." I snarkily responded, "No, it's more like giving an expert opinion."
After studying all these different intuitive abilities I have concluded that my intuition is feeling energy and I have dubbed my "molesting" abilities pretty much on the level of Energy Whore. I unintentionally, unabashedly and without your permission totally invade your sacred space and "feel" you out before you can even speak or bat an eyelash. And I do it ALL the time. I now understand why my personal bubble is so much bigger than the average person and why I don't actually enjoy people hugging me. When I was working at IKEA for 8 years, the corporate culture was European based so people were constantly hugging and kissing each other as part of their greeting ritual. I am not a compulsive hugger and if you're a stranger then it makes it extremely awkward. Prior to the journey of discovering Self, I just dismissed the uncomfortable feeling from hugging as being Asian. As a true, respectable Asian we are taught showing emotion is a sign of weakness, and if you absolutely must, it can only be in the form of rage. If you haven't notice, this is why hardcore Asian moms over feed their children to show their affection of love. Now I understand it's not my Asian upbringing but because when I am near people, we energetically mingle and I take away more than a simple hug from the exchange. So yes, I did indeed pick up on those skeletons you shoved deep into your closet which is why my Energy Whore is screaming "Abort mission, abort mission... stop the hugging!"
My first reaction to his profile picture was that he was a strange, quirky man. I was uneasy but not threatened. When I told Laura this, she had a good laugh and affirmed that I was correct, he indeed is a quirky dude. When I met him finally in person, he was still a strange, quirky man but I understood why. His energy was so different. I have only been around this type of energy twice before. Once when I was in my teenage years back on the Muskoday reserve when I met Henry the Medicine Man/Shaman. The second time would be with Annar, my talented psychic based in Coquitlam. I now wonder if those two were also master starseeds. For the basic human sensory system, you will pick up that Trevor is uber gentle and being around him is like a spa for your soul. You'll feel relaxed, at ease and your daily stresses will momentarily dissipate in his presence. For the more intuitive systems, you will feel that his gentleness is more feminine in expression and his soul purpose is to assist others. For some strange reason, even though Trevor normally helps others, I feel my role is to help him.
I don't discriminate against anyone so in my true form, I extend my usual, courteous signature sarcasm and socially ill-equipped, filterless observations to Trevor fully ignoring his master starseed title. The human side about Trevor is he enjoys playing musical instruments. As a past musician that enjoyed a great deal of success in his earlier years, he retreats from the often heavy reprieve of saving souls by plunking strings on a ukulele. Yaaaaaa... you read that right. Doesn't your master starseed strum a half guitar? You should have heard the howl I let out in the sushi restaurant when he told me his goal was to be the best ukulele player in Australia. I almost choked on my overpriced raw fish. "Are you kidding me? You are PROCRASTINATING Mr. Gollagher! You're suppose to assist humanity to the next level of ascension not mastering the ukulele. Quit slacking and get your head back into the game!" He smirks at my judgement and says he's just waiting for his turn so in the meantime he's going to strum along. I stare in disbelief and realize the quirky part of this master starseed equation is his human suit. Being human is enjoying the simple things in life. Alrighty then, well if that's the case I don't feel so bad about enjoying this beautifully prepared sushi even though the entire world is falling apart around me. As the noble sign says: Keep Calm and Carry On.
I discuss my conspiracy theory with him. He tells me I am over thinking everything and everything will unfold as it should. I really, really, hate it when Laura and Trevor tell me this. My over-thinking, analytical mind wants to whop them in their enlightened head and scream, "WTF! Something big is happening! I know you can feel it too but you're being all starseedy and doing the mastery thing and remaining calm before the storm!" My conspiracy theory is that highly sensitive intuitives are being bombarded with this new level of energy infiltrating our lives. Wearing the human suit, they have fallen to sudden illnesses and are being mentally, emotionally and physically fatigued. I believe it started in September and then shit crested in December. In January, all the more publicly known intuitives mysteriously went quiet online. Not a peep. I suspect they got "ungrounded" (spiritual term for losing their cool) and went into retreat to quietly re-evaluate themselves. I have a feeling that those that will pull through the influx of new energies will shine brightly as planned but during this metamorphism this Chicken Little is screaming the Sky is Falling.
In the meantime, you'll find me enjoying the simple things like sunshine, sushi and welcomed hugs from weird little men from another planet.
"Nope, but I love being here. It's nice and cold."
For a person that has seen more shades of grey in Raincouver than the bestselling soft porn series, I roll my eyes and loudly groan, "Dude... you are one weird little man."
"I thought we have already established that. Remember... I'm an alien," he giggles. I'm driving in the dark so my usual approach of studying his facial expressions would technically mean I wrote my own death certificate. Regardless if my two eyes can't provide evidence, my third eye tells me he's grinning ear to ear with his proclamation. I silently faced palmed myself and chuckled, "I forgot you're a master starseed and lucky for me we both eloquently speak the same language. Sarcasm."
So a quick overview from "Spiritual Shit For Dummies." (On a random side note I'm totally thinking I should write this book). There are teachings out there that say 30% of the spirits hanging out on Earth actually have soul origins from other galaxies or planets or dimensions or star systems (insert all things ET). Categorized as starseeds, these souls usually are here on a mission to assist the Earth souls with, well... let's face it... we need all the help we can get on this 'effed up world. Of the 30%, one percent of these Spirits are master starseeds. What has earned them the title of master is that they have reached spiritual and physical maturation and when the time is right, their code is activated and their "veil of amnesia" is lifted. I swear to you. As good as my imagination is, I can't even make up this kind of shit. So in a nutshell, Trevor has the unhuman gift of being directly linked into other light beings that don't live here on this Earth. On his journeys, his Spirit travels to where his Guides are and they literally download information into him. Other intuitives practice mediumship where information is given to them through an open channel. The tricky side of mediumship or channelling is that depending on the channeller's perceptions and life experiences, the subtle information travelling through this dense planet is most likely going to be discombobulated and inevitably misunderstood. So if that message from your beloved dead Aunt Edna was suppose to be: "Kick that asshole to the curb and don't worry I got your back" could have easily been misread as "Kiss that apple on the nerd and wash your rack." Obviously you're going to think your psychic link has had one too many Bailey's in the morning or if you're a strong believer in her abilities you're going to be kissing a whole lot of random nerds in hopes of finding that prince. Trevor doesn't have to go through misreading anything. Like a computer, he just shows up at said destination, calmly chit chats about the idiots inhabiting Earth with said Guides, they download him the next set of Divine code and he perks right into action with what needs to be done. The information is purely and cleanly uploaded with no distortion of miscommunication. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? I know right? Insane.
So what does a master starseed look like? Humbly, like an ordinary man. Due to my svelte Facebook stalking prowess, I have seen his profile picture before meeting him. He kind of looks like one of those muppets on Sesame Street because when he smiles, his smile is so giant that it takes up half of his head. When I finally met him in person, I teased him about being short and his response was, "Isn't that like calling the kettle black." I snarkily responded, "No, it's more like giving an expert opinion."
After studying all these different intuitive abilities I have concluded that my intuition is feeling energy and I have dubbed my "molesting" abilities pretty much on the level of Energy Whore. I unintentionally, unabashedly and without your permission totally invade your sacred space and "feel" you out before you can even speak or bat an eyelash. And I do it ALL the time. I now understand why my personal bubble is so much bigger than the average person and why I don't actually enjoy people hugging me. When I was working at IKEA for 8 years, the corporate culture was European based so people were constantly hugging and kissing each other as part of their greeting ritual. I am not a compulsive hugger and if you're a stranger then it makes it extremely awkward. Prior to the journey of discovering Self, I just dismissed the uncomfortable feeling from hugging as being Asian. As a true, respectable Asian we are taught showing emotion is a sign of weakness, and if you absolutely must, it can only be in the form of rage. If you haven't notice, this is why hardcore Asian moms over feed their children to show their affection of love. Now I understand it's not my Asian upbringing but because when I am near people, we energetically mingle and I take away more than a simple hug from the exchange. So yes, I did indeed pick up on those skeletons you shoved deep into your closet which is why my Energy Whore is screaming "Abort mission, abort mission... stop the hugging!"
My first reaction to his profile picture was that he was a strange, quirky man. I was uneasy but not threatened. When I told Laura this, she had a good laugh and affirmed that I was correct, he indeed is a quirky dude. When I met him finally in person, he was still a strange, quirky man but I understood why. His energy was so different. I have only been around this type of energy twice before. Once when I was in my teenage years back on the Muskoday reserve when I met Henry the Medicine Man/Shaman. The second time would be with Annar, my talented psychic based in Coquitlam. I now wonder if those two were also master starseeds. For the basic human sensory system, you will pick up that Trevor is uber gentle and being around him is like a spa for your soul. You'll feel relaxed, at ease and your daily stresses will momentarily dissipate in his presence. For the more intuitive systems, you will feel that his gentleness is more feminine in expression and his soul purpose is to assist others. For some strange reason, even though Trevor normally helps others, I feel my role is to help him.
I don't discriminate against anyone so in my true form, I extend my usual, courteous signature sarcasm and socially ill-equipped, filterless observations to Trevor fully ignoring his master starseed title. The human side about Trevor is he enjoys playing musical instruments. As a past musician that enjoyed a great deal of success in his earlier years, he retreats from the often heavy reprieve of saving souls by plunking strings on a ukulele. Yaaaaaa... you read that right. Doesn't your master starseed strum a half guitar? You should have heard the howl I let out in the sushi restaurant when he told me his goal was to be the best ukulele player in Australia. I almost choked on my overpriced raw fish. "Are you kidding me? You are PROCRASTINATING Mr. Gollagher! You're suppose to assist humanity to the next level of ascension not mastering the ukulele. Quit slacking and get your head back into the game!" He smirks at my judgement and says he's just waiting for his turn so in the meantime he's going to strum along. I stare in disbelief and realize the quirky part of this master starseed equation is his human suit. Being human is enjoying the simple things in life. Alrighty then, well if that's the case I don't feel so bad about enjoying this beautifully prepared sushi even though the entire world is falling apart around me. As the noble sign says: Keep Calm and Carry On.
I discuss my conspiracy theory with him. He tells me I am over thinking everything and everything will unfold as it should. I really, really, hate it when Laura and Trevor tell me this. My over-thinking, analytical mind wants to whop them in their enlightened head and scream, "WTF! Something big is happening! I know you can feel it too but you're being all starseedy and doing the mastery thing and remaining calm before the storm!" My conspiracy theory is that highly sensitive intuitives are being bombarded with this new level of energy infiltrating our lives. Wearing the human suit, they have fallen to sudden illnesses and are being mentally, emotionally and physically fatigued. I believe it started in September and then shit crested in December. In January, all the more publicly known intuitives mysteriously went quiet online. Not a peep. I suspect they got "ungrounded" (spiritual term for losing their cool) and went into retreat to quietly re-evaluate themselves. I have a feeling that those that will pull through the influx of new energies will shine brightly as planned but during this metamorphism this Chicken Little is screaming the Sky is Falling.
In the meantime, you'll find me enjoying the simple things like sunshine, sushi and welcomed hugs from weird little men from another planet.