My Trial

Today, my husband said to a room filled with people, "Hello.   Let me introduce myself.   My name is [his name], and I am a Pisces.  I am [age] years old.   My wife is sitting over there, and she is (reflective pause) older than me.   We have [x number] of children and quite possibly the fattest baby in the ward."

Would it hurt to be a little less honest?

Wrong Number

Brrrrrrring

Me:  Hello

Angry Man:  Who are you?

Me:  Um, I believe I am supposed to ask you that question.

Angry Man:  Oh, this is Kevin.  Who are you?

Me:  Are you looking for someone?

Angry Man:  Yah, where's Bill.

Me:  You have the wrong number.

Embarrassed Man:  Oh!  I am so sorry!

..............

Brrrrrrring

Me:  Hello?

Person:  Is this [name]'s Automotive?

Me:  No, but their number is one number different from ours.  Try ###-####.

Person:  Wow, lots of people must make this mistake.

Me:  Yep!

..........

Brrrrrrring

Me:  Hello?

Old Lady:  Is this the [random name]'s home?

Me:  No, you must have the wrong number.

Old Lady:  Okay, thank you.

1 minute later-Brrrrrrring

Me:  Hello?

Old Lady:  (frustrated) Oh, it's you again.  Now, tell me, what numbers I am getting wrong?  I have the last numbers as ####.  

Me:  Yes, those are the last four digits of my telephone number.

Old Lady:  I must be mixing up the prefix, then.  What prefix am I dialing?

Me:  ###.  Do you want me to look up a phone number for you?

Old Lady:  (angrily) No, no.  I don't need that.  What prefix is [other city]?

Me:  Well, there are a lot, but try this one.  ###.

Old Lady:  Thank you.

20 seconds later-Brrrrrrring

Me:  Hello?

Old Lady:  (shaky voice) Can you please help me?  

Me:  Is everything okay?  Are you okay?

Old Lady:  (crying)  I need to call my sister, and I don't know the right phone number.

Me:  Let me look up the phone number for you...

...........

My Mission:  To help random people, one wrong number at a time.

I love...

So, I've seen this commercial in Karin's blog and in Andrew's blog, and I have to admit that when I first saw this on the Discovery Channel, I fell in love with it, too. 

What a great song!  What a catchy tune!  And then, I couldn't get it out of my head.  I sing it all of the time, only in my mind, it goes like this:

The A&E TLC Song (sing with me!)

I love to catch crooks.

I love to catch them, too.

I love to catch them

while sporting this hairdo

We love the whole world, enough to keep it safe,

Boom-dee-a-ta,

boom-dee-a-ta,

boom-dee-a-ta,

boom-dee-a-ta.

I like to improve

I love to cook, mate.

We love chic fashion

We love to procreate.

I love the big world, and all it's littleness.

Boom-dee-a-ta,

boom-dee-a-ta, 

boom-dee-a-ta, 

boom-dee-a-ta

I love to give birth.

We love the multiples.

I love to dissect.

I love to diagnose.

I love the whole world, and it's reality.

Boom-dee-a-ta, 

boom-dee-a-ta, 

boom-dee-a-ta, 

boom-dee-a-ta.

Boom-dee-a-ta,

boom-dee-a-ta,

boom-dee-a-ta,

boom-dee-a-ta.

Gratitude

It seems to be the theme of the season:  gratitude.  With the family gathered together, all around the TV, watching Thanksgiving football games, I find myself sitting in the back by the cheese ball and crackers contemplating about life.  

Here are my thoughts:

People are funny.  We spend the first twenty years of our lives wishing we were older, and the last sixty years wishing we were younger.  I have started to do the latter, so, I am going to stop this vicious cycle. 

I am grateful that I am [my age] because:

1)  A friend told me that I can now run for U.S. Senate.  I don't plan on it, but with the economy as it is, I am glad to know that I have this option available for me.

2)  My bodily functions are still in my control, except when I am pregnant.

3)  I  am not in pain all of the time.  

4)  I am at the age where I can bake, crochet, quilt, and sew one day, and go to a raging concert the next.  I can wear orthopedic shoes, or huge fuzzy flip flops.  I can shop from juniors to sportswear! 

5)  Token Asian Friend=Old Asian Woman.  Old Asian women are cute.  Therefore, I am cute.

6)  When I stand up, I can count the number of joints popping on only ONE HAND!  Of course, I need to use the other hand to count the joints that pop from counting on the one hand...

7)  I can now look at popular musicians and say, "Punk Kids!"

8)  Passing different fitness levels on my Wii Fit is actually an accomplishment.

9)  I can begin the countdown to retirement.

10)  A friend of mine said that he is grateful to be [my age] because it is "one of those invisible barriers where people respect you more as an adult."  I guess this must be the age where, "respect your elders" is referring to me.

What do you love about being YOUR age?

Today

A friend came up to me and said, "Token Asian Friend, my daughter said the funniest thing.  She was looking at your  husband, and the light was casting a really weird shadow on his lip.  She said, 'Look, daddy, Brother [my husband] has a moustache!'"

I replied, "That is a moustache."

(Laugh, then straight face)  "Really?"

............

A neighbor came up to me today and said, "Token Asian Friend, who is responsible for these?"  I look at the Sacrament Meeting Programs/Bulletins he held in his hand.

"I am.  What did I do wrong this time?"

"Oh you did nothing wrong.  We were just amazed by the amount of power you have!"

"Huh?"

Then I saw it written in the bulletin...."* December 30--New Year's Eve"

So, mark your calendars, for your Token Asian Friend has spoken!

On my Soap (Opera) box

Did you guys see this article in Yahoo! News?  The daytime soap opera is DYING!!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What has this world come to?  We stand to lose an entire genre of television!  What will happen to the women (and men) who have devoted their 11:00-3:00 block Monday to Friday to following every episode?  Have they lived their lives in vain?  Have times really changed that no one is willing to commit to a twenty-year-long daytime drama?  Do mothers no longer instill in their daughters the value of drawn-out plots with questionable acting?  What will Hollywood do without soap operas to weed out the good actors from the bad?  What would those unemployed actors and actresses do?  Telethons?  Host Reality TV shows?  What could ever replace the soap opera?

OH!  Infomercials!

Same time, same stations, same overly-bronzed faces, same bad acting, and same unrealistic story line.

PHEW!!!  Problem solved.  

Our relationship, in a nutshell

"Hey, hubby. How was your day?"

"Great, how was yours?"

"Good. Did you know that [child's name] can do jumping jacks?"

"Yah, he/she showed me."

"Oh. Cute, isn't it? Hey, your mom called..."

"Yep, she left me a message."

"Good, so you got that.  So, I heard the [Neighbors] are having a baby."

"Yes, TWINS!"

"What?!? Wow, that's amazing. I didn't know that. Guess what?  Your cousin is getting married."

"Got the e-mail."

"Read on the news that the Indian Navy shot down a pirating 'mother ship'?"

"Saw it on Yahoo!."

"The [neighbors] got a new puppy."

"Held it."

"Elder [Missionary] wrote a letter."

"Wrote him back."

"GM wants part of the bailout money"

"Saw it on  MSNBC."

"Massage chairs are on sale."

"Ordered one."

"Bishop called."

"Got the text."

"I'm pregnant."

"No you're not."

"AARRRGGGG! Forget you!"

"Love you."

"I'm going to bed."

"I'm already there."

"Good night, Jerk."

"Can't hear you because I'm sleeping."

The Hand

My baby lay there, cradled in my arms, finally taking a much needed nap within a large, crowded room.  While I sat rocking my sweet sleeping baby, a hand reach from behind and grasped my baby's huge cheeks.  

...SQUISH...

Not like a little jiggle of the fleshy baby face.  Imagine the force and speed of two fingers snapping, only with a big chubby baby face between the fingers.  

(You just snapped, didn't you?)

His shocked eyes flew open, his back arched and his hands involuntarily reached out.  He was breathing in to scream when...

...SQUISH...

The hand had returned, with even more resolve to awaken my slumbering babe.  His head began to fitfully turn from side to side as his arms and legs flailed about.  And then, he flipped out.  The bystander next to me was visibly upset, and turned to her husband to say, "I would be so mad if that were my baby." 

I stood up and buried my outraged infant into my chest.   I turned and looked into the set of smiling eyes, and I watched as the offending hands clapped together in quick succession, and then stretched toward my restless child...

...and the laughing voice said, "Let me hold the baby."

Honor thy Father and Mother--the Asian Way

As my children run past me, I like to catch them, hold them tight, and just sit there with their cheeks close to mine as they wiggle, and scream, and sometimes cry because I won't let them go.  Then, I ask, "Will you please stop growing?  Will you stay this small forever?"

The younger ones always say yes, or burp.  The older ones say, "No, people don't stay the same size.  Everybody grows up."

.............................

Flashback:

  I wake up one morning when I feel a heavy weight on my legs.  Groggily, I look down and find my mom kneeling next to my bed hugging my legs tightly.

"Um, Mom, what are you doing?"

Without even looking up, I hear her reply, with her Asian accent "Just holding on to my baby."

I pause for a moment and say, "Mom, I'm in college."

"I know, but you are still my baby."

.........................

I know, you have a few questions.  Why was I living at home when I was in college?  Because I loved being with my family, and I didn't know how to cook, I was too cheap to pay for rent, and I may have been a little bit spoiled.  

What did I do next?  Well, I just laid there, and waited for her to let go.  

Why would my mom do that?  Because she is a native, and they were taught about filial piety.

What the crap is filial piety?  It is basically respecting your parents (or elders), sometimes to a very extreme level.  

And they learn this in Asia?  Yes.  Growing up, I argued with my mom a few (hundred) times.  Then, my mom would whip out the big gun--guilt.  "I would never talk to my mom this way."  "Whatever, Mom.  Everyone talks to their mom this way!!!"  Well, that is what I thought, until I lived there, and I realized she was right.  She probably never did talk to her mom that way.

What makes you say that?  A lot of the Asian culture and religion revolves around filial piety.  It stems from the idea that your mother, from producing you within her body, to giving birth, forgetting the pain of birth, giving you the milk that sustained you as an infant, to raising you, protecting you, clothing you, washing you, worrying about you, and being compassionate toward you, has given you all that she had, even the nutrients from the very core of her bones.  The dads do some stuff too.  Anyway, the idea is, after all that they have done for you, you could never repay them.  In fact, part of Confucius's teachings says that if you were to carry your father on one shoulder, and your mother on the other, for one thousand miles until your bones were ground to powder by their weight and you were ankle deep in your own blood, you have still not done enough to repay your parents (believe it or not, I chose the least gory example).

What can I do to be a filial child?  A man named Kuo Chu-ching (1280 - 1368 AD) compiled 24 examples of filial children.  One of those examples was a grown man who, to make his parents happy, would dress as a little child and act like a baby, thus allowing them to feel young again.  

Really?  Dead Serious.

So, is that why you laid there?  Yes, because I was being a filial child.

And, because I hope some day my grown children will understand why I grab them, awkwardly cradle them in my arms, and with my cheek smashed next to theirs say, "Will you please stop growing?  Will you please stay this small forever?....

...Will you please put on those footed sleeper pajamas I made for you?"

Someone should invent that...

I often find myself in a situation where I have 100 things to do, but I've got little obstacles in my way that keep me from my goal.  In these situations, I always say, "Someone should invent..."

A Shopping-cart-wheel-degunker.  How many times have you picked "the wrong cart" while grocery shopping?   I've had my kids hang on one side of the cart, hoping to counterbalance the pull of the gunk-on-the-wheel.   Think of all the man-hours wasted just trying to push those carts around.

A Moving-walkway in the drive-through.  Saves gas and the frustration of waiting for "that guy" to put his change in his wallet.  

A Training bike.  A kid's bike that begins with two wheels on one end and one wheel on the other.   The more you pedal, the closer the two wheels get until they in essence become one wheel, and BAM!  Your kid knows how to ride a bike with no effort on your part.

Bluetooth Internet.  Think about it.

Baby Hover Board.  All I'm saying is, a woman of my stature was never designed to carry a 22 lb. five month old.  

Electronic marquees on our cars to communicate with drivers around us.  We could display things like:

-Welcome to the fast lane :)

-You are no longer welcome to the fast lane :(

-I've been signaling for like an hour.  I know you can see me.  I see your lips move as you read this.

-What movie are you watching?

-If you CAN'T read this, your car is giving off too much exhaust.

-The slower you go, the more frequently I honk.

-Undercover Police Officer

-You want to merge?  Over my dead body--HEY!!!  I WAS JOKING!!!

   

Well, maybe we shouldn't make those marquees available to the public. 

Bright Idea!

Why do some people hang their Christmas lights so early?  Is it because they are extremely festive?

No!

It's because they have procrastinated before and have paid the price.

So, if you CHOOSE to delay the inevitable, know this:

-Salting the 2 inch slab of ice beneath the 20 foot ladder does not keep it from slipping.

-Thick snow, heavy boots, and a roof with a 45 degree slope = bad combination.

-You will not get any volunteers to help you.

-Have you ever tried to hang lights with gloves on?  Less Effective.

-Those blasted plastic clips break so easily at 15 degrees F.

-Trying to attach a rope of lights to a gutter can be a daunting task, especially when you are staring up at hundreds of pointy icicles hanging off the edge.

-If you drop anything, you'll be looking through 3 feet of snow to find it.

-Because severe cold + having your hands above your head for hours at a time is an instant recipe for frost bite.

-Your nose will run, but your face will be so cold that you won't even know it.  You probably won't care, either.

-Replacing tiny light bulbs with numb fingers is NOT a good idea.

So please, take my advice.  String your lights up tomorrow.  That's what I'm going to tell MY husband to do!

Signs

I was taking one of my children for a bathroom break in a store/restaurant. As I sat my little one on the potty, I looked next to the sink, and I saw this:

(In one of the languages, it actually says to not pee or poo anywhere.)

Was this for real?

There was a toilet RIGHT THERE!

What was going on in there BEFORE they put that sign up?

Are there literate people out there who, if given the choice, would rather go on the floor than on the potty?

The only thing that lessened my anxiety was the fact that the bathroom smelled heavily of bleach and the floor was newly mopped...

Why no, I'm not baking cookies....

I buckled.

I thought I could withstand all of the societal pressures to have a delectable smelling home.  I had resisted the urge of going to those sweetly scented parties.  I wouldn't allow myself to ask friends what makes their home emanate the flavors of vanilla and cranberry orange.  I even threw away a catalog, thus removing the temptation to peer into it's aromatic-looking pages.   

I thought I was stronger than this. 

But then, a blond neighbor girl came with an order form and brochure.  Part of the proceeds would go to help her buy dance costumes.  So, IF I were to buy something, I would really be helping her.  IF I were to succumb to the fragrant pressures, I would know deep in my heart that I was only trying to serve...

...and they have a scent that captures the essence of home sweet home...

...and I've never heard of a winterberry, but it sounds like it smells yummy...

...fresh cut cantaloupe?  Mmmmmm, my FAVORITE!...

...ooooh, and this style of warmer would look perfect in my kitchen...

...with this color...

...and this little plug-in is sooooo cute...

...and if I buy three more flavor bars, it will only cost me X number of dollars...

(...and I could host a party...and I could start my own business...)

...all this, and this little girl can have 2% of what I spent to help her buy her much needed dance equipment!

So, don't judge me!  And if you have something to say, COME SAY IT TO MY FACE as the aroma exuding from my open door envelopes you and lulls you into a state of savory tranquility and olfactory bliss.

:-{D

It's MOVEMBER time!  Raising funds and awareness for men's health one creepy moustache at a time.    

At the beginning of the month, many men shaved what facial hair they have to start anew and find out who really is the man!  Right now, most men are still at the youth 'stache stage, so if you notice a lot of wimpy lip-ticklers out there, cheer them on!  By Thanksgiving, they will be combing, waxing, clipping, and shaping those handlebars into works of Movember art.  Here are some pictures for inspiration, boys!!!

Aaaaaaannnnndddd, notice there are no Asians.  Oh, WAIT!  I found one!!!

(Big thanks to whomever took this picture!)

Now, I know that technically doesn't count as a moustache, but that, my friends, is a dang good effort!

Go Movember!

Yup, I'm still a nerd

Time for another PARASITE SPOTLIGHT!!!

There was a request for the worm that crawls through the skin, and I found a few, but we'll have to wait until next month, because I found a FUN one!

Trichinella spiralis--but we'll call him Curly!

Curly is yet another worm that is found in almost all types of flesh-eating animals.  About 1.5 million Americans are currently carrying a Curly or two (or a million), and up to 300,000 more Americans get Curly every year.  Most people acquire Curly by eating infected pork.  Now, don't go all vegetarian on me!  At the end of the post, I will tell you how to prevent infection, OK?

As I was saying, Curly is a little larval worm that lives in muscle tissue.  When the infected meat is eaten, Curly makes his home in your small intestine and within two days develops into an adult and is ready to PROCREATE!  One female can produce 1,500 larvae in a few months.  

These little Curly larvae move from the intestines into the blood stream and are carried to many different muscular parts of the body.  Some of their favorite nesting spots are the eye muscles, the shoulders, chest and rib muscles, the diaphragm, the calf muscle, and the tongue!  YUM!  These little Curly kids then enclose themselves in a cyst and wait and wait and wait to get eaten.  Now, hopefully, their parasitic cycle ends in humans!  

Depending on how many larvae you have per gram of body tissue, you could still have symptoms of infection that could cause death.  If you only have 10 larvae per gram of muscle (by the way, a gram is about the weight of a paperclip, so it is a very small unit of mass--most humans weigh tens of thousands of grams), you are probably OK.  If, however, you have 5000 Curly babies in one gram of infected muscle, you could die.  5000 per gram!  AAAAACK!

Now, I don't know if cooking destroys Curly.  It probably does, but again, I don't know.  There are measures being taken to prevent infection.  Laws prevent the feeding of garbage to pigs, which significantly reduces the number of Curlys.   If you don't trust the government, just freeze the meat (quick freeze to -40 degrees C, or freezing it in your normal freezer for 20 days or more) to kill any existing larvae. 

See, all is well.  Just make sure you:  

1)  Freeze your meat.  

2)  Don't eat garbage or feed garbage to your food.

You just went vegetarian, didn't you?  You would.

Maybe this will help you feel better...

Who's yo Daddy?

Thank you to this site and this site for the pictures.  And, thanks to BioRAD for the Video!

How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could up chuck?

My offspring sporadically spewed, spawning the spark for this splendid spiel.

1) I have been throwing up since I was a little girl. In third grade, during quiet reading time, the deviled eggs I ate for breakfast were not sitting so well in me, and I leaned to the side of my desk and threw up. I felt really bad, so I silently grabbed paper towels and removed the regurgitated egg matter from the carpet. I told the teacher that I threw up and was sent to the nurse's office. While waiting for my mom to get me, my teacher came in and drilled me about whether or not I actually threw up, and where the said throw up could possibly be. Turns out I had some mad cleaning skills because that janitor looked and looked but could not find that supposed pile of puke!

2) (This one is for YOU--you know who you are!) A friend of mine had a little shihtzu. On day, while holding the dog, he said, "Hey (dog's name)!" and blew in his face. The dog immediately vomited.

3) A man I love dearly had just completed the Fuddrucker Challenge (1 lb. specialty burger, large chili-cheese fries, and a large brownie/cookie sundae) and was driving back to work with a few co-workers. He made a left turn into the median and twisted to the right to look for an opening when his gut surged. As he rolled down the window, he gasped, "Tell me when to go!" As some screamed, "Go!" others just screamed as ice cream flavored puke splattered across the driver's side windows in the accelerating automobile. His shirt was soiled, but thank goodness he had his newly won Fuddrucker's T-shirt that said, "Are you MAN enough?"

4)A neighbor knew of my nasty nettlesome nausea during pregnancy, and so teased me relentlessly. I drove passed him one day when he looked at me and pretended to heave. "Ha ha! Very Funny!" I blurted. When I pulled into the garage, my husband came out to greet me and saw "the look" on my face. He grabbed the garbage can and raced to my side just in time. I'm not sure whether to attribute his speed to his endless devotion for me, or because of the fact that I was in his car.

You might be asking, "Why on Earth would she write about this?"

1) Because vomit is funny (after the fact).

2) Because my husband knows a man that throws up whenever he hears about throw up, and I'm secretly hoping someone will show him this post.

No, not really! No, really!

What I've learned from Halloween

With all of the excitement and celebrating at an end, I can now contemplate and reflect on what I have learned from Halloween.

1)  Handing out candy is fun.  Handing out candy with a Bullhorn is more fun.

2)  Don't let children bring accessories to their costumes unless you are willing to carry or wear all of them (I was a Native American Uncle Sam Fairy!)

3)  Three Musketeers (fun size) has only 2 grams of fat, so I can eat like 200 before I gain a pound (of fat).

4)  My kids came home empty handed.  I came home with buckets of candy, a flashlight, a hat, a wig, an umbrella, a jacket, gloves, glowing bracelets...

5)  Everything in the house gets stickier after Halloween.

6)  The parent that got to hand out the candy and watch basketball inside the warm, dry house misused the "you need to bond with the older kids" card.  

7)  Most of the candy we received looked good, but I had to taste-test most of the chocolate bars.  Safety First!

8)  When you knock on someone's door and they choose to answer with a scary mask and a loud howl, laugh really loud before the kids get a chance to pee their pants.

9)  The fifth Milky Way bar definitely tastes better than the eighteenth.

10)  If it is bright blue going in one way, it will be bright green coming out the other.

My Fears

I fear very strange things.  I mean, besides the normal things people tend to be uneasy about, I have a few others to be proud of.  I severely dislike overpasses--especially being stopped at stoplights and having to wait under overpasses.  I have anxiety in airplanes.  I try not to walk directly under birds.  I don't go spelunking.  I won't play a team sport or sprint at a track meet.  I don't like rivers.  I prefer to make right turns.  I don't dance in public.  I fear the ocean.  I am hesitant to get LASIK eye surgery.  I choose sushi with cooked fish.  I'm not a fan of elevators.  I wince when I hear a door slam.  I don't like to hold puppies for a long time.  I microwave my meat after I cook it.  All of these fears can be traced back to one experience or another I've had earlier in life, and so I believe my fears are valid. 

Now, let me tell you a story.

A friend of mine had returned home from a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  I had a new baby, and brought the child with me to welcome him home (I know what you are thinking, and it was not his baby--shame on  you).  After a while, my baby started to get cranky, so I knew it was time to head home.  I said a bunch of good-byes, teased a few people, laughed at a few more, blew a few kisses, and I was off.  I had just put the baby in the car seat when a bowel explosion occurred (not me, the baby).  

So, I went back inside and changed the diaper and the clothes, chatted, laughed, insulted a few people, mocked some others, waved good-bye and I was off, again.  I drove about five minutes away when I had to stop and feed my screaming infant.  While I was, um, nursing my babe, I realized that I had left the diaper bag back at the house.  So, I buckled my baby, drove back, and luckily caught someone outside to watch my kid while I quickly went inside to grab the bag.  

I went back inside, explained myself to confused onlookers, grabbed the diaper bag, tormented a few people, pointed and waved,  high-fived a few, hugged a few, patted some on the back, and quickly left.  As I was walking out the door, clutching that diaper bag, I paused and felt the cool night air flow straight to the core of my body.  As I looked down, I realized that I had left my shirt completely unbuttoned.

I now have a fear of exposing myself in public.  I don't ever want that to happen.

Again.

And the winner is...

Hello, my name is Token Asian Friend and I have a fat baby.

The thing I love about having a fat baby is the different comments that are showered upon him.  Everyone has a comment.  The topics range from his girth, sibling and parent BMI history, genetics, nutrition, my upper body strength, my back, my mammary glands, how gravity affects his mobility, etc.  But, I have to give credit to those who have given truly unique and praiseworthy comments.  This post is for you.

Here are some of my favorite comments:

--Gravity is really taking a toll on those cheeks, huh buddy.

--Come roll that little guy over here.  I want to hold him. 

--Is he getting thinner, or am I just getting used to him?

--Your stroller is making ruts in my yard.

--It looks like he's sucking on two plums.

And the winner is:

--You just want to stick an apple in his mouth.

If you have any comments you wish to make about my fat baby, feel free to share.  

Bath time fun

Did anyone see the sunrise on Halloween morn?  Now you have!  

I was bathing two of my kids the other day.  They were splashing and giggling and getting me wet and laughing and being goofy.   I stood up, looked at them sternly and said, "YOU are a nut, and YOU are a nut."

And then my oldest child said, "Who has two little nuts?"

The mommy in me wanted to say, "I do!" but the second grader in me couldn't stop laughing.