Monthly Archives: January 2016

“Do I look like your dad?”

First born had to do a presentation for his Project Management class and wanted to run it by his dad and I.  I helped him organize his thoughts so the presentation came across smoother.  He presented on Whole Foods and how it is a socially responsible company.

After I helped him, he hugged me and thanked me for assisting him.  Twenty minutes later, he hugs me again and thanks me again.  Another twenty minutes later and he does the same thing.  Now I’m starting to get irritated and asked why he kept thanking me.  It’s like he’s shocked I helped me.

First Born:  Thanks Mom for helping me with my presentation.

Me:  Why are you acting like I never help you out?

First Born:  Because you don’t.  Every time I ask you for help, you say “go ask your dad” or better yet, “do I look like your dad?”

He mimicks me with this look like I can’t be bothered, like some hip hop mom with a neck sway.  He also mimicks me with this Asian accent that’s absolutely hilarious, even though I don’t have an accent when I speak English.  I do have a Chinese accent when I speak Chinese, or more specifically Chinglish.  Chinese people constantly tell me that they think I’m a White person speaking Chinese.  To be fair, there are plenty of White people who speak Chinese better than I.  More power to them I say.

I want to make a ring tone with his Asian accent saying “why you so ugly, fix your face” over and over again so that when he calls me, I’ll go “excuse me, that’s my son calling me.”  Then I want another ring tone with him saying “why you so stupid” over and over again so that I can say “excuse me, that’s my other son calling me.”  What can I say?  I’m bored.

Hey, to be fair, I’m usually trying to cook dinner when he asks me for help and if his dad ain’t home, I tell him to wait until his dad gets home.  After all, that’s why I married his dad in the first place, I knew he’d be a good dad because he can teach.  Plus, I usually don’t know what he needs help with.  I can’t be bothered to learn specific facts.  I get the gist of things. I know this doesn’t sound good for a lawyer, but remember I don’t like being a lawyer.  I concentrate when I have to, although it’s getting harder to do as I get older, really hard.  I have to constantly make this motion with my hands of crossing each other every time I need to get a pair of scissors because I’ll forget what I’m going to get while I’m getting it.  Can I get an amen?

Outliers

I’ve been reading “Outliers” by Malcolm Gladwell.  Fascinating book.  It’s opened my eyes as to how to look at successful people.  Gladwell states that most people see successful people as people who are born that way, born with a special talent that made them successful and that no matter what I do, I won’t be able to replicate that success.  Gladwell argues we can break down the contributing factors that lead to a person’s success.  It’s fascinating (I know I’ve already said that).  I’m in awe of how Gladwell is able to convey these ideas so straightforward and in an entertaining fashion.  No, Gladwell did not pay me to endorse this book.  I do not personally know Mr. Gladwell.

Where do I start?  First, I’m making First Born read it.  No, make that I’ve convinced First Born to read it.  Why?  Because, I feel that armed with the information in this book, he can apply it to his own life, just like I can apply it to my own life.

If I would have read this book in college, I would have never applied to law school.  I would have seriously looked at my cultural heritage and my own passions.  I would have known that I would not succeed at something that I hated so much but did out of some social obligation I felt towards my mother and Asian Americans.  If I was honest with myself back then, I would have admitted that I was afraid to admit what I liked, which at that time was dancing and fashion.  It didn’t help that I sucked at dancing and was afraid I wasn’t artistic enough to be in fashion, plus those weren’t “serious” endeavors for a serious person.  There would be no respect in those fields or so I thought at that time.  Now I’ve spent years fighting back my creative self and I can no longer deny that creative urge I feel within myself without falling into a deep depression.  I refuse to give up on myself, even though I feel it’s so late in life.  I’m 47.  How do I start over, especially when Gladwell says it takes 10,000 hours to be really good at something?  Have I’ve done anything close to 10,000 hours besides watching TV?  I guess I can say I’m a successful TV watcher.

This blog should really be titled “A woman in search of herself.”  When will I let go and let myself be the person I’m suppose to be?  Or am I already that person and I’m disappointed?