Tuesday, January 12, 2010I get so worried about my little sister Anna. Saying goodbye to her today was horrible. I woke up when she did so I could shower during her breakfast and go with Mommy to take her to Math Olympiad and also drop Daniel off in the carpool line.
When I walked in with her to the Math Olympiad classroom, one look at her eyes starting to swell up was enough to bring the tears. Hurriedly, I apologized to her teacher, barely able to see her face through my tears, and explained that I was going back to school today. The teacher, sympathetic, asked if we needed a moment, and if we were bad at goodbyes. I shook my head and said that we'd be fine. I figured it'd be easier for Anna to keep going if she went right into the Math Olympiad test and didn't dwell on the pains of farewell.
I think the main reason why I worry about Anna is because she is so unlike me. When she was younger, I used to get so frustrated in tutoring her, teaching her to do basic things like putting away clothing, showering, and brushing teeth, and supervising her piano because she was nothing like me. For me, being nothing like me is a scary thing. I figured if she was more like me, she'd be more predictable, her choices and decisions would be more like mine, and as such her life, when she's my age, would be like mine- safe, secure, and as a whole, pretty okay.
It scares me that she's so different, because I don't want her to be any less happy than I am, or any less secure, or any less content and confident.
I pray for her and worry about her to no end.
And it's at times like this when I hear God's still small voice. "Cindy, was it because of your own abilities or personalities that you made it through life's trials? Was it not because I was there, holding your hand? And will I not do the same for Anna, whom I also love and cherish, who is also the apple of my eye?"
And so I must teach myself, whenever this time comes for me to step aside and go back to school, that my Anna will be just fine, not because she's learning to cope and grow without me by her side, but because God is teaching her to live with Him on her side.
Our God is so good.
When I walked in with her to the Math Olympiad classroom, one look at her eyes starting to swell up was enough to bring the tears. Hurriedly, I apologized to her teacher, barely able to see her face through my tears, and explained that I was going back to school today. The teacher, sympathetic, asked if we needed a moment, and if we were bad at goodbyes. I shook my head and said that we'd be fine. I figured it'd be easier for Anna to keep going if she went right into the Math Olympiad test and didn't dwell on the pains of farewell.
I think the main reason why I worry about Anna is because she is so unlike me. When she was younger, I used to get so frustrated in tutoring her, teaching her to do basic things like putting away clothing, showering, and brushing teeth, and supervising her piano because she was nothing like me. For me, being nothing like me is a scary thing. I figured if she was more like me, she'd be more predictable, her choices and decisions would be more like mine, and as such her life, when she's my age, would be like mine- safe, secure, and as a whole, pretty okay.
It scares me that she's so different, because I don't want her to be any less happy than I am, or any less secure, or any less content and confident.
I pray for her and worry about her to no end.
And it's at times like this when I hear God's still small voice. "Cindy, was it because of your own abilities or personalities that you made it through life's trials? Was it not because I was there, holding your hand? And will I not do the same for Anna, whom I also love and cherish, who is also the apple of my eye?"
And so I must teach myself, whenever this time comes for me to step aside and go back to school, that my Anna will be just fine, not because she's learning to cope and grow without me by her side, but because God is teaching her to live with Him on her side.
Our God is so good.
9:29 AM |
My little sister Anna freaked out today when we stepped into the car after Daniel's tae-kwon-do practice. She told Daddy not to start the car because he would then set into motion my last carride home with them for a long long while.
I told her we can't stop time.
Leaving home is always such a painful experience, and I always end up bawling about it, embarrassingly enough. Saying goodbye is always the hardest part. Living on after the goodbye is so much easier, I feel like, since schoolwork and the busy pace of college life soon takes over.
My sister asked me where home was to me. I told her home is where my heart is, but also where I feel the most warmth. At Penn, when I say I'm going home, I mean a tiny room in Hill College House. But when break comes around and I say I'm going home, I mean to Charlotte, NC, not for the city or the pretty neighborhood and the nice weather, but for the people, my family, waiting at baggage claim to pick me up.
I told her we can't stop time.
Leaving home is always such a painful experience, and I always end up bawling about it, embarrassingly enough. Saying goodbye is always the hardest part. Living on after the goodbye is so much easier, I feel like, since schoolwork and the busy pace of college life soon takes over.
My sister asked me where home was to me. I told her home is where my heart is, but also where I feel the most warmth. At Penn, when I say I'm going home, I mean a tiny room in Hill College House. But when break comes around and I say I'm going home, I mean to Charlotte, NC, not for the city or the pretty neighborhood and the nice weather, but for the people, my family, waiting at baggage claim to pick me up.
12:26 AM |
Monday, January 11, 20103:25 PM |
Friday, January 8, 2010We're watching Julie&Julia and she kept asking what exactly a blog is. :)
[later edit]
I absolutely love my mother. She is just the most adorable woman in the world.
I remember her coming home after her swing-shift at the hospital from 4-11PM on Friday night. We'd agreed to finish Julie&Julia that evening after she got home from work, but I'd fallen asleep in my bed by the time she came into my room at midnight, tiptoeing carefully over my little brother sleeping on his sleeping bag on the floor next to my bed.
I guess for some reason she's been having insomnia lately, but her coming in woke me up, and she whispered, "Jiajia, didn't you say you were going to wait for me? (嘉嘉,你不是说要等我吗?)" Touched and slightly guilt-tripped by this, I crawled out of bed, grabbed my laptop, and set up in my little sister's room down the hall. When I peeked my head into the master bedroom, my dad was sitting up awake in their king-size bed, obviously grumpy about my mom's midnight interruption. My mom was getting ready, and when she saw my groggy face peeking in, she grinned and did a dramatic two-thumbs up. I guffawed.
It's moments like these that make me the most bewildered about my mother, but it's also moments like these that I'll miss the most.
[later edit]
I absolutely love my mother. She is just the most adorable woman in the world.
I remember her coming home after her swing-shift at the hospital from 4-11PM on Friday night. We'd agreed to finish Julie&Julia that evening after she got home from work, but I'd fallen asleep in my bed by the time she came into my room at midnight, tiptoeing carefully over my little brother sleeping on his sleeping bag on the floor next to my bed.
I guess for some reason she's been having insomnia lately, but her coming in woke me up, and she whispered, "Jiajia, didn't you say you were going to wait for me? (嘉嘉,你不是说要等我吗?)" Touched and slightly guilt-tripped by this, I crawled out of bed, grabbed my laptop, and set up in my little sister's room down the hall. When I peeked my head into the master bedroom, my dad was sitting up awake in their king-size bed, obviously grumpy about my mom's midnight interruption. My mom was getting ready, and when she saw my groggy face peeking in, she grinned and did a dramatic two-thumbs up. I guffawed.
It's moments like these that make me the most bewildered about my mother, but it's also moments like these that I'll miss the most.
12:57 PM |
Friday, December 25, 2009Woke up this morning to my brother's excited "Merry Christmas!" too early to remember. Considering how I'd gone to bed around 5AM because of my other job as Santa, it wasn't until around 9AM that I actually pushed myself out of bed.
Spent the morning watching Shrek and Shrek the Third with my siblings under the cover of my queen-sized bed. It was lots of fun and good laughs, considering how I'd bought Daniel Shrek II for his birthday exactly a month ago. After lunch, we baked Christmas cookies, the Pillsbury kind with the snowman face on each. I burnt the ones on the bottom rack of the oven, but I guess there was no helping that. *sheepish* And I'll know better for next time! Afterwards, I napped for about two hours until dinnertime. Being Santa is hard!
Mom came home from work to have Christmas dinner with us, and the family had a great dinner of leftovers from our Christmas Eve party last night. I really love my family. We have such a warm home and everyone remembers that he or she is loved.
After dinner, Mom, Dad, Daniel, Anna, and I decided to cuddle up under the covers in the master bedroom and watch Up. My mom fell asleep during the part where they're walking somewhat aimlessly toward Paradise Falls, but she enjoyed it all in all because it reminded her of some of the elderly patients she sees who have grown old together.
After Up, we decided as a family to watch Mulan II. And now that that's done, I'm sitting in bed reflecting on a glorious Christmas.
Merry Christmas to all of you! Let's remember how this holiday reflects the greatest gift ever given, God's love for us, as manifest in Jesus' birth.
Emmanuel... God with us. :)
Spent the morning watching Shrek and Shrek the Third with my siblings under the cover of my queen-sized bed. It was lots of fun and good laughs, considering how I'd bought Daniel Shrek II for his birthday exactly a month ago. After lunch, we baked Christmas cookies, the Pillsbury kind with the snowman face on each. I burnt the ones on the bottom rack of the oven, but I guess there was no helping that. *sheepish* And I'll know better for next time! Afterwards, I napped for about two hours until dinnertime. Being Santa is hard!
Mom came home from work to have Christmas dinner with us, and the family had a great dinner of leftovers from our Christmas Eve party last night. I really love my family. We have such a warm home and everyone remembers that he or she is loved.
After dinner, Mom, Dad, Daniel, Anna, and I decided to cuddle up under the covers in the master bedroom and watch Up. My mom fell asleep during the part where they're walking somewhat aimlessly toward Paradise Falls, but she enjoyed it all in all because it reminded her of some of the elderly patients she sees who have grown old together.
After Up, we decided as a family to watch Mulan II. And now that that's done, I'm sitting in bed reflecting on a glorious Christmas.
Merry Christmas to all of you! Let's remember how this holiday reflects the greatest gift ever given, God's love for us, as manifest in Jesus' birth.
Emmanuel... God with us. :)
9:46 PM |
"Because she's dieting," my seven-year-old brother nods meaningfully to me as I pull out the milk from our refrigerator.
As I was shopping that day, I knew what my sister had asked for in her letter to Santa, and it, unfortunately, was not something I could afford. However, when I saw this Perler Bead set, I knew it was what Santa intended for Anna. After all, she was creative, she was artistic, and she was fascinated with the things that I had liked when I was her age.
On Christmas Eve, after wrapping the huge Perler Bead giftset and hiding it in my closet, I tucked Anna in, and waited for her to fall asleep before I pulled out a sheet of paper and began to write to her as Santa. I made the tails of my y's longer and more rigid, my n's, u's, and r's more angular, and my a's like so, with the little hook on top. In the letter, I explained that as Santa, I understood that Anna wanted a new bike. I had received, however, a request from Anna's sister Cindy that Anna be given a chance to experience one of Cindy's childhood hobbies, the Perler Bead crafts during her own Friday night church activities. I continued by saying that I knew Anna was such a talented artist, and that I hoped to see her take the Perler Beads and really go above and beyond in her creativity.
In ending the letter, I gave Anna an extremely encouraging pep talk for the coming year. I reminded her that not only was she Cindy's baby sister, she was also Daniel's older sister, and as such she meant a lot as a role model. I said that while I understood it would be hard, I was fully confident that Anna could be a wonderful older sister to Daniel, despite being only two and a half years older than him.
After offering the usual holiday greetings from Mrs. Claus, I signed the letter, "Santa Claus," folded it gently, and went downstairs to place it next to the now empty cookie plate and milk mug.
When Anna woke up the next morning, she was thrilled. I'm not sure if it was more because of the letter, or because of the nifty Perler Beads and the opportunity to work on my childhood hobby with me. I did, however, relish the look of pure joy on her face, and the hope and enthusiasm with which she seemed to radiate.
A few months later, on a visit home from boarding school, I saw Anna's Santa letter on her nightstand. My mother told me that the letter had meant a lot to my little sister, and it made me smile to hear that.
Last Christmas, Anna had already outgrown the idea of Santa Clause, and had already cleverly noticed too many similarities between Santa's handwriting and mine, despite my conscientious attempts to disguise my handwriting. I enlisted her aid, however, to help me bring a similar Christmas spirit to Daniel. With our little brother, we baked Christmas cookies, set them out excitedly for Santa, and came back down and ate them later after Daniel went to bed. In the morning, we watched as Daniel excitedly opened his presents, and then we all baked a birthday cake for Baby Jesus. For us, that made a joyous Christmas.
By this Christmas, Daniel too has outgrown the idea of Santa, or has he? When I came back down to nibble at the cookie, drink the skim milk, and put treats in the stockings, I noticed the sheet of notebook paper by the empty plate. In Daniel's first-grade scrawl was his Christmas wish-list for Santa.
This comes directly after our acknowledgement that Santa would only eat one of the cookies that we lay out because "she's trying to lose weight," so we should not waste any, and just put out one.
At our house, there is a tacit understanding that Santa is either our mom... or me.
Christmas has never really been commercialized at my house. My two younger siblings and I have never really been left wanting, because throughout the entire year, my parents have always made us extremely content. We have a warm and loving family and a comfortable, spacious home. All of our most basic emotional, physical, and spiritual needs are met, and then some. Our family is truly blessed.
Hence, when Christmastime rolls around, my siblings are satisfied with just a couple of gifts each, because they understand how much they receive throughout the year. We have taught them to count their blessings, and they have learned well.
I remember about two years ago, I saw the nicest gift at Target for about $10. I don't know if any of you remember Perler Beads, but it was a kind of craft that was popular between my preK and 2nd grade years. Basically you would put these little colored circular plastic things on these little spokes on a grid, which was often a certain shape, like a heart or a horse or something, and then we could put parchment paper over the completed pattern and iron over it. The heat from the iron would melt the little Perler Beads together and fuse them into the solid colored pattern that you'd envisioned on your white grid. I found the example below from an article in the Washington Post.
As I was shopping that day, I knew what my sister had asked for in her letter to Santa, and it, unfortunately, was not something I could afford. However, when I saw this Perler Bead set, I knew it was what Santa intended for Anna. After all, she was creative, she was artistic, and she was fascinated with the things that I had liked when I was her age.
On Christmas Eve, after wrapping the huge Perler Bead giftset and hiding it in my closet, I tucked Anna in, and waited for her to fall asleep before I pulled out a sheet of paper and began to write to her as Santa. I made the tails of my y's longer and more rigid, my n's, u's, and r's more angular, and my a's like so, with the little hook on top. In the letter, I explained that as Santa, I understood that Anna wanted a new bike. I had received, however, a request from Anna's sister Cindy that Anna be given a chance to experience one of Cindy's childhood hobbies, the Perler Bead crafts during her own Friday night church activities. I continued by saying that I knew Anna was such a talented artist, and that I hoped to see her take the Perler Beads and really go above and beyond in her creativity.
In ending the letter, I gave Anna an extremely encouraging pep talk for the coming year. I reminded her that not only was she Cindy's baby sister, she was also Daniel's older sister, and as such she meant a lot as a role model. I said that while I understood it would be hard, I was fully confident that Anna could be a wonderful older sister to Daniel, despite being only two and a half years older than him.
After offering the usual holiday greetings from Mrs. Claus, I signed the letter, "Santa Claus," folded it gently, and went downstairs to place it next to the now empty cookie plate and milk mug.
When Anna woke up the next morning, she was thrilled. I'm not sure if it was more because of the letter, or because of the nifty Perler Beads and the opportunity to work on my childhood hobby with me. I did, however, relish the look of pure joy on her face, and the hope and enthusiasm with which she seemed to radiate.
A few months later, on a visit home from boarding school, I saw Anna's Santa letter on her nightstand. My mother told me that the letter had meant a lot to my little sister, and it made me smile to hear that.
Last Christmas, Anna had already outgrown the idea of Santa Clause, and had already cleverly noticed too many similarities between Santa's handwriting and mine, despite my conscientious attempts to disguise my handwriting. I enlisted her aid, however, to help me bring a similar Christmas spirit to Daniel. With our little brother, we baked Christmas cookies, set them out excitedly for Santa, and came back down and ate them later after Daniel went to bed. In the morning, we watched as Daniel excitedly opened his presents, and then we all baked a birthday cake for Baby Jesus. For us, that made a joyous Christmas.
By this Christmas, Daniel too has outgrown the idea of Santa, or has he? When I came back down to nibble at the cookie, drink the skim milk, and put treats in the stockings, I noticed the sheet of notebook paper by the empty plate. In Daniel's first-grade scrawl was his Christmas wish-list for Santa.
- roller skates
- Shrek the Third
- football helmet
- Toy Story I and II
- Shrek I
- you can figure out the rest (<- his attempt to allow Santa to make up for what bases he may have missed)
By 11:45PM on Christmas Eve, it's already a bit late to be going about getting any of the things explicitly stated on Daniel's wishlist, but as for the last, I've been spending the last two and a half hours diligently pulling something wonderful together.
It's early Christmas morning, and as I watch Anna sleeping next to me on my bed and Daniel on his sleeping bag (he's insisted upon sleeping on a make-shift bed on the floor in my room since I got home this break), I can't help but want to bring them the joy of Christmas for all the right reasons, not because of the toys waiting for them under the tree, but because of the love that we have all been so blessed to receive so fully this Christmas season.
2:38 AM |
Tuesday, December 22, 2009After being on the road for basically ten hours, I finally reached Charlotte a little past 10PM and was greeted by my daddy and two younger siblings.
It feels so good to be home.
Praise God for:
1) Luggage that, with Christmas gifts and textbooks, came just under 50 lbs (49.6! ^.^v), Northwest's checked baggage weight limit.
2) Sitting next to another freshmen at Penn on my flight to Detroit who ALSO goes to Sunday Service at GCC, but couldn't get plugged into her family group, Skywalkers, because of her schedule.
3) A flight delay that allowed me to grab dinner, a yummy Chili's cheesesteak (apparently Philly has a part of my appetite now), at the same Chili's in the Detroit airport where Daddy and I ate before our flight to Beijing in the summer of 2007 before our mission trip in our hometown.
4) Getting stuck in the middle seat, but having the window seat guy be flexible enough to just have me scoot over one instead of crawling over me to get to F.
5) Home.. just in time for Christmas. :3
God is so good.
It feels so good to be home.
Praise God for:
1) Luggage that, with Christmas gifts and textbooks, came just under 50 lbs (49.6! ^.^v), Northwest's checked baggage weight limit.
2) Sitting next to another freshmen at Penn on my flight to Detroit who ALSO goes to Sunday Service at GCC, but couldn't get plugged into her family group, Skywalkers, because of her schedule.
3) A flight delay that allowed me to grab dinner, a yummy Chili's cheesesteak (apparently Philly has a part of my appetite now), at the same Chili's in the Detroit airport where Daddy and I ate before our flight to Beijing in the summer of 2007 before our mission trip in our hometown.
4) Getting stuck in the middle seat, but having the window seat guy be flexible enough to just have me scoot over one instead of crawling over me to get to F.
5) Home.. just in time for Christmas. :3
God is so good.
12:23 AM |
Thursday, December 17, 2009
I have the distinct memory of my mommy smearing Pond's Dry Skin Cream on my face as early as our time in Beijing. Considering how I came to the States when I was 4, that memory goes pretty far back.
You can buy Pond's for about $8 at the local pharmacy. People online say it's really good, especially when the winter wind nips at you and makes your face feel tight.
My mom hasn't used it for a while though. She's into Olay, Lancome, Shiseido, etc. now. I guess our standard of living has changed.
Last Friday, Douglas, the cosmetics place by the Bookstore, had a 20% off sale. I went with my Penn bestie to check it out after our last client meeting. Philly water has been making me break out a lot more than I ever did in North Carolina. In high school, all I used for my face was, occasionally, St. Ive' s Apricot Scrub, but I usually just splashed warm water on my face a few times before closing my pores with cold water, and afterwards applying Olay SPF15 as moisturizer on especially cold days. Unfortunately, my Olay has not been able to stand against the Philly cold. I'm obviously not in North Carolina anymore.
On Friday, lured in by the 20% sign, I decided to purchase Peter Thomas Roth Chamomile Cleanser, which was originally $32, to help fight break-outs from the icky water. I also bought my mommy her Christmas present, the Shiseido Benefiance Revitalizing Emulsion. In total, I spent $70 on two items at Douglas. $70 is a lot of money.
The next day, as I was walking out of Hill to go to the gym, my face felt ridiculously dry, so I came to the conclusion that I needed a better moisturizer. Maybe a brand-name. I made the mistake of walking into Douglas again.
When I walked out, I was thoroughly convinced that I needed a new cleansing regimen. Cleanser, toner, and moisturizer, with special exfoliation two or three times a week. And what better way to do so than to stick with the brand-name line? I went home and took all my Wharton Behavioral Lab earnings out of the lucky red envelope I keep them in. Then I went back to Douglas and spent it all, and then some, on $32 aloe tonic, $52 moisturizer, $15 Mario Badescu Strawberry Scrub, and two bath fizzies for 50 cents each to bring my order up to $100.00 and 8% tax. $108.00 is a lot to be spending on skincare.
I went home that night and moped. I went online and looked for cheaper alternatives. And it was then that I stumbled upon Pond's Dry Skin Cream once again.
It was like remeeting a childhood friend.
I was so excited, that I got up earlier and rushed to CVS the next morning before church to buy generic alcohol-free toner and the Pond's Dry Skin Cream. Ecstatic, I applied a thin layer before church. In the afternoon, after lunch in Hill with my GCC freshmen brothers and sisters, I went with my buddy Patrick in the pouring rain to return $91.80 of skincare products back to Douglas. I kept the Mario Badescu exfoliating scrub. I plan to use it for a very long time.
I've been using CVS toner and Pond's Dry Skin Cream now for a few days, and it has been absolutely phenomenal. So great, in fact, that I've considered returning my mom's Shiseido emulsion and getting her Pond's for Christmas. There's nothing quite like a tried-and-true product.
I think it's a been a lesson well-learned. Brand names aren't really what counts. And when it comes down to it, I'm really just not a designer brand girl.
I wonder how my mom will feel when I bring Pond's skin cream back to her over Christmas break.
8:41 PM |
