Soliciting Advice

Occasionally I will scroll through the hundreds of pictures I have saved on my computer. Cute pictures like this one:


Or this one:










Or this one:










These pictures are hidden away in my computer and not admired nearly often enough. I have printed a small fraction of the pictures saved on my computer, and I've placed an even smaller fraction of those in scrapbooks. I am not a crafty person, and I am known to be afraid of colorful things; nevertheless, I've tried to keep current on scrapbooking. I'm losing in that effort. Aside from Xiao Mei's baby book, my most recent scrapbook contains pictures from 2003.

So, as my digital memories get larger and larger, and my corresponding actual memories get fuzzier and fuzzier, I am considering digital scrapbooking.

On to my request: do you scrapbook digitally? If so, what program do you recommend? How do you publish your scrapbooks?

Thanks in advance for recommendations.

New Nie

Stephanie Nielson is back to blogging. If you are not familiar with her story, I encourage you to look into it. She and her sister cjane are amazing examples of kindness, strength and love.

Welcome back Nie Nie. May God continue to bless you as you heal.

Simon is evil and other random observations

American Idol is back. While I don’t watch it as religiously as I used to, I try to keep tabs on each season. I used to be a Simon Cowell apologist. He is harsh, yes, but his honesty is refreshing and often spot-on. Last night a lady (girl) auditioned in a bikini, and she had a great body. Her voice was not terrible, but it wasn’t good enough to move to the next round. Simon sent her to Hollywood anyway. He was so smug about it, and he was clearly trying to send a message. It made me sick. I’m surprised he didn’t just turn to the camera and say “hey, girls, you can use your body to get recognition you don’t deserve, so bikini-up.” Ugh. Maybe I see things differently now that I have a daughter, but I was furious. I am now, officially, a Simon Cowell hater.

Xiao Mei is 11 months. She is less like a baby and more like a toddler each day. She can walk now, albeit unsteadily, and she has an impressive vocabulary. (Hi, dada, mama, pretty, and hmmm (as in this food is good or I want some of whatever you are eating)). She loves music, and last Sunday she stumbled to the front of the relief society room and started leading the hymn.

My friend, G, told me that every time he watches Biggest Loser he craves doughnuts. Ironic, right? Well, last week CMT had a Nanny 911 marathon. I ignored XM for about 2 hours while I watched a few episodes. Sadly ironic.

I made Freya a few sweaters out of old shirts. She loves them.

I was 650 pages into Brisingr (the third book in the inheritance trilogy) before I realized there is going to be a fourth book. I’m very annoyed.

10th Wedding Anniversary

Yang and I were married ten years ago today. Ten! Other than the painful law school years, it's been a wonderful ride. Happy anniversary, Yang.

This is our engagement photo. It was taken in August of 1998. Shortly after, Yang went to Washington DC to intern for a senator, and I went to study abroad in London. We returned two weeks before our wedding.


We were married in the Salt Lake City temple.


We were so cute then, and happy and smiley! We are crusty and ill-tempered now.

Here's to another fantastic ten years together.

Merry Christmas!

Where do I live again?

This is a picture of my back yard. This much snow reminds me of Utah. It's beautiful!

Xiao Mei ohs and ahs every time I turn on the Christmas tree lights. She makes the same sound for the falling snow. It's adorable.

Elfishness

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

(ht: Hailey)

Love actually is. . .

. . . all around.*

I am absolutely and completely in love with these two people.



A friend took these pictures of us at Forest Park several weeks ago. Sometimes Xiao Mei was less cooperative than other times.


*I watched Love Actually again the other night. Best holiday movie ever.

30

30 years.

9 years, 11.5 months of marriage.

10 months of parenting.

1 child.

19 years of school.

6 years living in Oregon.

23 years living in Utah.

1 year living in China.

10 nations visited.

13 years of part-time/temporary work.

3 years as an attorney.

7 pets.

2 cars.

13 residences.

0 broken bones.

Things I learned during Thanksgiving vacation

Yang, Xiao Mei and I spent Thanksgiving with my sister K. She lives a mile away from my high school, so it was fun to go back to my old stomping grounds. (Does anyone still use the phrase "stomping grounds?" If not, I'm bringing it back).

Here is what I learned last week:

1. We like games. Yang and I don't play many games, but my sister and her family are big game people. We had so much fun playing cards, pictionary, scrabble, and a dozen other games I can't remember the names of.

2. XM is a TOTAL mama's girl. I suspected as much, but last week confirmed it. XM had two darling cousins eager and willing to play with her, hold her, walk with her, sing to her, etc, and XM only wanted mom. Ugh.

3. I like turkey. I had turkey on Thanksgiving for the first time in approximately 16 years, and it was great. Thanks for the delicious turkey dinner, K.

4. My 11 year old niece, J, is two inches taller than I am.

5. XM and her cousin, C, are adorable together. (They are the same age and met for the first time).


6. Miche bags are VERY cool. Check them out.

7. Apparently, Yang is a gamer after all. As long as it is Mario Cart.

8. Costco puts cocaine in its pumpkin pie.

9. I am getting old. We walked a 5k Thursday morning, and my butt was sore all weekend. (In my defense, C and I walked an additional 2 miles, up hill, in snow, without shoes).


10. It is always fun to catch-up with high school friends, no matter how much time has passed.

11. Cart-wheels are an acceptable mode of transportation. Just ask my nine year old niece, K.

A big THANK YOU to the C family for hosting Thanksgiving. I hope all of you had a great holiday.

Building a Library

When someone asks me what I am reading, I always consider lying.

“Oh, I’m currently re-reading my favorite Shakespearian comedies.”

Or, “I’m reading The Isles by Norman Davies and Alison Weir’s collection on the British monarchy and then I’m going to read the latest biography about Mao Zedong.”

I consider lying because the truth is that I’m probably reading People magazine or perhaps the Twilight books, again. Or blogs. Do blogs even count as “reading”?

“I’m currently reading The Superficial and Feminist Mormon Housewives.” Um, yeah. That doesn’t sound nearly as erudite. (And NOTHING sounds nearly as erudite as using the word erudite on one’s blog.)

It’s not surprising that I read low-brow literature considering what I chose to read while growing up. When I learned how to use the school library in the sixth grade (yes, that’s correct, I didn’t learn how to check out a book until the sixth grade) I became addicted to The Babysitter’s Club first and then to Sweet Valley High. I read every single one. Ugh.

At home, we had a complete set of 1978 encyclopedias. That was cool. However, when I was bored with the encyclopedias I would read whatever else was on our bookshelves. Usually that would be a Readers’ Digest condensed novel or a Danielle Steele book. (I hold my mother fully responsible for my condensed novel and Steele phase).

Despite her penchant for Readers’ Digest, and against all odds, my mom tried to get me to read good literature. I’ll never forget reading The Secret Garden with her. We would read it in the formal living room (you know, the room where the vacuum marks were visible all week long) on the fancy couches. It was very special, but unfortunately, it didn’t ignite a passion for good books.

So, to my point. (Yes, there is one).

I want to build a library for Xiao Mei full of timeless children’s and young adult literature. I don’t want too many books, but enough to tempt her away from the shelf full of old issues of People (and realistically, by then, a shelf full of Weekly World News—Bat baby!).

Today I’m going to find my library card and pay my late fees. Then I’m going to borrow children’s books and start reading them. Lots of them. I’m going to start with the National Book Award finalists for young people’s literature or whatever the library staff recommends. If I love the book, I’m going to buy it.

See, I’m building a library (sung to the tune of Building a Mystery).

What do you recommend? What was your favorite book when you were a kid? What do your kids love to read? What is the Babysitter’s Club of today so I can avoid it?

A Broken Heart

The following essay sounds a little eulogistic (is that a word?). Please be assured my dad is alive and almost well. He is recovering from heart surgery at home (well, at his apartment in Beirut).

My dad was in the hospital when I was born. He wasn’t there to see me (though he was present at my birth), but rather he was there as a patient. He was involved in a ski accident several weeks earlier, and was still undergoing treatment on his leg. This was only one of several sports related injuries he would sustain in his lifetime. You see, my father is active, somewhat impetuous, and often quite fearless. He is also pragmatic, devoted, loving, and a bit irreverent.

I love the story of when the apostle Peter tried to walk through the stormy sea to Christ. Only after he jumped out of the boat did he start to fear. I love that Peter was the only one who jumped out of the boat, and he did it because of his love for the Lord. Peter reminds me of my dad. My dad would have jumped out of the boat, too.

My dad is currently serving his fourth mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He served in France when he was young, and in Belgium, Hong Kong, and Lebanon as a “senior” missionary.

In France, my dad braved anti-American sentiment to profess his faith. In Belgium he held together, through sheer diligence and devotion, a small, eclectic congregation of worshipers whose only commonality was their love of God. In Hong Kong he acted as a surrogate father to hundreds of Filipina women who were so far away from home. And in Lebanon, he is using his charm, wit, and intuition to choose lucky recipients of substantial charitable donations. (My mom has been his strong and inspiring partner in Belgium, Hong Kong, and Lebanon.)

In the Book of Mormon, 3 Nephi 9:20, it says “And ye shall offer for a sacrifice unto me a broken heart and a contrite spirit.”

My dad has sacrificed for the Lord. He has given his time, talents, money, and energy. He has already offered a symbolic sacrifice of a broken heart to God. But, as my dad would say, “Don’t give me any of that symbolic crap. Give it to me straight.”

So, when the Lord asked for a broken heart, my dad literally gave Him a broken heart.

Request

My dad had a heart attack two days ago and underwent triple bypass surgery yesterday (in Beirut, Lebanon). My mom reports that the surgery went well, but my dad is in a lot of pain. He has several weeks (months) of recovery ahead of him. Please pray for him and my mom (or send good thoughts their way).

Nie Article

If you are following Nie's recovery, you have probably already read this article. If you are not, this is a great place to start.

Excuse me while I go dry my tears.

Amen, Mr. Friedman

Palin's kind of Patriotism.

I've tried to avoid politics on this blog, but . . . I am very, very afraid of Mrs. Palin.

Ok, back to the personal and mundane, as usual.

Book Babies

I made a wonderful discovery last week (thanks to A, my jogging partner). My local library hosts "book babies" once a week. For 30 minutes every Thursday morning, babies and parents can meet for music and story time.

At first I was skeptical - I thought a free event at a public library would be a bit sketchy. But, it's wonderful. The teacher is delightful, the room is clean, the toys are age appropriate and clean, and the other babies and parents that attend are very nice (no shifty eyes in sight).

Most importantly, XM LOVES it! She is fascinated with other babies, she enjoys the songs (especially clapping at the end of each song), and she loves the bubbles dispensed via a fantastic bubble machine (I have to get one of those). I think the interaction with other kids and adults is good for her.

Hooray!

Patience, My Love

Xiao Mei cried when I lifted her out of her crib this morning. That was my first indication of the day to come--she usually greets me with a smile. I assume she is teething, but I don’t really know the cause of her discomfort. She has been whiny and clingy. She screams if I leave her alone for too long.

By 11 am, my to-do list eroded down from things I wanted to accomplish to things I must accomplish. The more rushed I felt, the louder XM screamed.

Mercy, child.

By 4 pm, the living room looked like a tornado hit, documents and client files buried the table, and XM clung to my ankle, crying, as I prepared dinner. My temperature was rising faster than the preheating oven, and thunder pounded inside my head.

I surrendered.

I picked up my darling girl and cuddled her on the couch. For ten minutes . . . thirty minutes . . . an hour. As I released my expectations for the rest of the day, I heard a stretching, creaking sound. It was the sound of my capacity for patience expanding. Like tectonic plates, slowly shifting and moving, it was transforming an individual into a mother.

Tomorrow I will do better.

Second Childhood

I am so excited for the holiday season! We have a wonderful reason to celebrate and decorate again now that Xiao Mei joined our family. (Yang and I have been scrooges the last few years). I may even get a Christmas tree! *gasp*

Before then, we are looking forward to an excellent Halloween!

You want to feel better about yourself? Read this post.

I am a horrible homemaker. There, I admit it. I assumed once I became a mother, I would naturally become a good homemaker--a domestic goddess,even. Ha.

“But Yin,” you are saying to yourself, “you are almost mumble-mumble years old. You’ve had years, nigh a decade, to become a good homemaker.” Um, yeah, about that. You see, I never really had to be a good homemaker before. When we were DINKs, we ate out for lunch and most dinners. When we decided to cook at home, it was easy to shop for all the ingredients that day and have all evening to cook the delicious meal—what a novelty it was. (Yang is wondering, “when did we cook at home?”). Also, a house doesn’t get that dirty when one leaves at 7 am and returns twelve hours later. So, cleaning once a week did the trick. (Yang is wondering, “we cleaned the house once a week?”).

It’s different now.

I now know how quickly a house gets dirty when one actually lives in it. I now realize that it can be a bit difficult to plan menus and shop for the whole week (on a budget). I now realize that it’s challenging to cook dinner with an almost eight month old who thinks she is one year old. No matter how long I wait, the dirty dishes from breakfast and lunch sit there until I do something about them.

Here’s evidence that I’m a crappy homemaker. Notice the food still in the high chair.

Notice the darling baby girl crawling on a dirty floor.

Notice my kitchen counters at 4 pm. (Yes, that is a Campbell’s soup can. I am a horrible cook, but I’m trying. Tuna casserole anyone?) Also, please note that rather than cleaning up my kitchen, I chose to plop my behind in front of the computer and type this post. Ha!

So, to all you awesome moms and dads who cook meals for your family and keep a relatively clean home, my hat is off to you! You are awesome. You are my inspiration. I’ll get better, right? I won’t be cooking with Campbell’s soup cans forever, right?

You know who else is my inspiration? Nie Nie. The first time I heard about her was when Runningfan posted about her accident. After that, I read all of Nie Nie’s archives. I know I will never be like her, but she makes me want to be a better wife, mother, and homemaker. That woman is amazing, and I pray that she recovers.

It's been a hard day's night...

...and I've been working like a dawg. Here is a spotlight on Deputy Dawg Yang's last 24 hours.


Yesterday Yang worked all day at his day job. Work is busy and stressful because he has several cases that may go to trial before the end of the year. After that, he geared up and patrolled all night. He didn't make it home until 5 am. When I asked him why he stayed out so long, he shrugged with a smile and said, "there was a lot going on." I can only imagine (but I don't like to).

He tells me very little, but he mentioned drunks, a guy with a crowbar, and the ubiquitous drivers driving with a suspended license.

After four hours of sleep and breakfast with XM and me, Yang got all dressed up to go to the temple with the young men from our church. When he gets back from the temple, he is going to paint our house. Seriously.

What a guy.