Proof for Santa’s existence is everywhere…

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6 yo is listening to the Personalized CD (which guarantees that you can “hear your name more than 80 times!”) that Santa gave him last year.

With great excitement, he came to me and proclaimed,

“Mom, do you know how I am so sure now that this CD is from Santa and MADE by Santa himself at the workshop?”

“Oh. How?”

“You see the back is glued to the cover with sticky tacks! What kind of stores would use sticky tacks to glue their stuff together?!”

So crappy quality is actually the evidence for Santa’s handmade items.

A volcano of love… tis the cross for me to bear

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“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.”
– Juliet

Always thought this is one of the most beautiful descriptions of what it means to really love someone. (By the way, Romeo is an idiot. Juliet clearly is a better poet. But I digress…)

When I became a mom, I was surprised by the truth in these words. The love I have for my children is such that it hurts to think of the possibility of ever losing them. And unlike other kinds of feelings, a parent’s love does not depend on reciprocity. We will always love our children no matter what.

But that love does not prevent us from getting impatient, annoyed. It does not stop me from becoming a mean witch from time to time to the boys. Stealthily self doubt creeps up sometimes: I wonder whether I do truly love my kids selflessly and unconditionally, whether I am fit to be a mother, after a particularly difficult day of dealing with bickering, whining, willfulness, obstinacy, and flaring up of the mild case of OCD, with too little time. My exhaustion more often than not stems from my youngest’s refusal to let my husband take care of him.

Mommy is the only person he always wants.

Mommy is the person he loves the most, no matter what.

In this regard, I feel extremely guilty and am deeply saddened since there are more than one person for me to make the same claim of. Juliet’s words aside, I lack the time to show the love equally to each.

On those days, when I put him to bed, I would hold my 6 year-old tighter and ask him to forgive mommy’s temper earlier. And Mr. Monk, my 6 year-old, who has a way with words, would say something that at the same time shames me and absolves me.

“I just want you to know that mommy loves you.” (even when she was behaving like a banshee…)

“It’s ok mommy. I just want to show each parent a volcano of love.”

Laughing out loud, I held him even tighter, trying hard to stifle the cry that’s surfacing from my chest.

Sometimes I believe that he loves me more than I love him. And it worries me so….

p.s. Yes yes I know. Wait a couple more years and then he would not want to have anything to do with mommy any more… I will write a new post then….

“You people!” is symptomatic of something that none of us want to admit…

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(I promise. This is going to be the final rant from me. There is a bit OCD in my personality, and sometimes things just bother me and I cannot let go. Most of the time these are “trivial” by most people’s measure. But are they REALLY trivial? Perhaps they are only trivial because you are not affected by it?)

Here is what I have been thinking…

No matter where you are in the world, the advantage of being one of the majority, the mainstream, the dominant society, is that you have the freedom to just be you. No REPRESENT! No speaking for your race, nationality, gender, etc. No “Tell us something about your culture” as if by the nature of being who you are, you automatically are well-versed in the history/culture/geography of where you are supposed to come from. And nobody will ever ever say to you,

“You people…”

 

Tropic Thunder You People meme gif

“No, Newt, You’re the Racist” Thank goodness someone more elequont wrote this rebuttal…

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to the charge by some Republicans against the Supreme Court Nominee, Sonia Sotomayor, as being a racist against the white people, and specifically, white male people.

I first saw this charge when I was waiting to board the plane. (You know the CNN scrolling texts on the bottom that drive everybody crazy but, I have to admit it, was pretty useful when there was NO sound on!) I could NOT believe my eyes. But I was not surprised either.

In my head I was formulating all these rebuttals, clever comebacks, theories, arguments against charges of any type of Reverse Racism. The best I could come up with was: It is like the Royal Families complain about being prejudiced against because people are jealous of the privileges they enjoy.

Seriously? Give me a break!

Thank goodness for Vanity Fair. Here is again another article that I LOVE so much that I want to print it out and eat it whole. I really should be working since I am buried by projects that are all due YESTERDAY. But I need to get this off my chest before I explode into a pile of, YES, non-white, mess…

No, Newt, You’re the Racist by Michael Hogan (May 27, 2009)

Mr. Hogan, I assume who is white and male (NOT that there is anything wrong with that…), managed to deliver a rebuttal against this utter nonsense in an even-handed, non-didactic, non-preachy way.

Digression: I also appreciate much the fact his article does not invoke White Guilt either, for nothing is more annoying to me than condescension and patronization born out of White Guilt. No, thank you very much, we have managed along quite well. We do not need to be rescued by a knight in shiny armor. Give me outright Racism any day ( Disclaimer: obviously, I understand VIOLENCE committed on the basis of racism is no joke. Here I am referring to TALKS. DISCOURSES.) When it is veiled in White Guilt, I am at a loss as to how to react to it.

Anyway, the best quote from the article is as follows, although I do hope you read the entire thing if you have stayed with my rant so far…

The reason so few sensible people take [any charge of reverse racism] seriously is that there is no effective anti-white discrimination in America or, for that matter, the world. Being white is almost universally easier than being any other color, just as being male is almost universally easier than being female. (If you’re white, male, and still angry, the problem is you.)

Nicely done. Thank you.

If you happen to be white (in appearances) and you cannot see the implied privileges that come with your skin color, here is a great article/exercise that may resonate with you:

“White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack” by Peggy McIntosh in 1990. Yes, it is decades old. But hey, some things never change… or at least, not much.

p.s. Once again, the comments steal the show and become the proof for the importance of writing the article being commented on in the first place.

Michael Hogan, poor guy, he’s being pummeled and maligned in the comment section. It is rather scary and disturbing what was said in those comments. I wish I hadn’t read them because now I am officially pissed. And scared at the same time. And disturbed. And dispirited.

Bring your swimming trunks when you visit the Crown Fountain in Chicago…

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This is one place that we keep on going back in downtown Chicago, the Crown Fountain at the Chicago Millennium Park, lovingly nicknamed the Face Fountain. Public art pieces based on water features are known to draw people together, inviting people to participate in shared activities and to create an ad-hoc community.

Here is what the artist, Jaume Plensa, said about this piece:

A fountain is the memory of nature, this marvelous sound of a little river in the mountains translated to the city. For me, a fountain doesn’t mean a big jet of water. It means humidity, the origin of life.

And anybody that has been around this gathering place when the weather is warm enough knows what it means: children splashing in the water, laughing, chasing each other. Adults fascinated by everything that’s going on around them. The surprise and delight in the faces when the water jet shoots out of the mouth of the “face”. And the best part is the screaming children under the catch-you-off-guard waterfall coming from the top with no warning.

Pure delight.