Passing

Yeh Yeh passed away yesterday. 

I had spoken to my parents in the morning and they mentioned that he was unwell, and my Dad was going to bring him to the doctor's the next day. When at 2:47 and 2:48pm, (am, Singapore time) I saw two missed calls from my mother, I immediately knew what happened. Phone calls at unexpected times are also how I heard Suze and Artie, my old neighbours from Sarawood, passed away (at two different times). There's something about seeing that missed call, or an incoming call from someone you don't normally chat to on the phone to know that Someone Has Passed.

Anyway what was particularly shitty about the timing was that I was overcome with sadness and crying, and I still had to hustle M out of the house to pick E up. I was hoping nothing showed on my face because I didn't want to talk about it with my Mom friends. And if they saw anything, they didn't mention it. I probably looked tired as usual, since it wasn't like I had a lot of time to cry anyway before heading out (received news at 2:52pm, left house by 3:10pm).

The grief of losing an older person is very bittersweet and mixed. Unlike a younger person, older people have led long lives, and are usually sick or ailing by the time they pass. When they finally leave, it's a small blessing because you know that they are no long suffering in their mortal bodies. And my grandfather has been very vocal about how miserable he has been ever since his accident that left him partially paralysed and unable to walk in 2021. I was pregnant with M at the time and Covid was still a fearsome spectre. Since the accident, I managed to fly back to Singapore twice for several months with Jon and the girls, as we at least got to see him then.

In one memorable incident, we had come back late, and found ourselves locked out of the house. Usually the front door would be open, because their house also had a front gate. This time we were locked out however, and had no key. We stood outside trying to get Rosie, their domestic helper's, attention, but it seemed she went to sleep early that night. Then we slid the front glass doors open and tried to get E, who was maybe 3 at the time, to open the door. She was small enough to fit through the grilles, but too small to be brave enough to do it in a dark house. In the end we got into the car and drove to my parent's place to get a set of keys from them. 

When we got into the house, Yeh Yeh called out and scolded us, lol. He said he could hear the ruckus we were making, but couldn't do anything but lie there in his room. He said we were stupid and that there was always a set of extra house keys in the car (we didn't know). Also why didn't we take the keys? Lol. I hadn't been scolded by him like that in a long time, and I guess it was the last time he scolded me. Jon says that's his greatest memory of Yeh Yeh, because Yeh Yeh never really did many distinctive things anyway. He was always sort of just... there. 

As his grandchild, I never had to deal with the bullshit and trauma that came from his wife and children in their respective relationships with him. As not-a-big-troublemaker, I was also spared any ignoring or outbursts that his other grandchildren has to deal with. It goes without saying that out of the 4 grandkids, Ryan was his favourite, and I guess by sheer elimination that makes me the next favourite. In essence I am probably one of the family members that had the least complicated feelings about him, while still spending a substantial amount of time with him as a child. 

I am sad and will think of him.

The Trial of the Pears

On the last day of January, a Friday, E suddenly fell sick with a fever in school. I was with M at a check up at the pediatrician's office, and so had to delay picking her up for a while, and felt pretty stressed and bad about that. Anyway we stayed home that weekend, and on Saturday evening M started to feel warm and show symptoms too. On Monday I kept E home just in case, and by late afternoon she was down with a fever again. By Tuesday Jon was starting to feel sick, and by Thursday I was definitely 100% sick and feeling shitty. As an adult however, I still had things to do. That Thursday schools were closed too, because of a snow/ice storm, but I had to send out a stack of time sensitive registered mails for our renovation permit. So for the first time in a long while, I wore a face mask and went to the post office, and then got groceries after.

That week sucked. The kids basically missed school all week. Although they were sick, they largely seemed unaffected by it, because they were as hyper as usual. For the adults however, we were wiped. Then because my brother-in-law and his family from Florida were visiting, we met up with them at The Buffet with my parent-in-laws. I don't know if it was the food I consumed even though I was still feeling unwell, but that incident triggered horrible GERD symptoms in me. For that night and the rest of the week, I'd wake up in the middle of the night and be unable to fall asleep for hours, and I didn't even know what the problem was until days later when I was basically about to have a breakdown from lack of sleep. I don't know how I made it through that week except through lots of prayer and willpower.

Anyway it's been a month, but my stomach is still messed up. Usually I take my stomach medicine once a day, but now I have been taking it twice a day. The last time I tried to test the waters last week, I was again punished by a middle-of-the-night wake up for hours until the medicine kicked in. My craving for flavourful food has gone down the drain, and so mild wraps are now my desired lunchtime food. Even the thought of a chicken/tuna mayonnaise sandwich seems too 'tasty' for me. It's like I'm pregnant again, except there is no baby as a promised reward this time (not that I want another baby, I am barely coping with two).

Amidst all this fun stuff, was the weather, and our fridge breaking down, and the fact that I had volunteered to bring pears to church for fruit baskets. The church we attend has the Sunday School kids bringing in different types of fruit to make fruit baskets for homebound parishioners on special occasions. The last time was for Christmas/Advent, and this time was for Valentine's Day. The usual fruits that you can sign up to bring are oranges, apples, bananas, and pears - and almost always no one wants to bring pears. Per pound, pears are usually the most expensive and they also have the shortest shelf life. So because we signed up late (We weren't going to go that week because we were going to meet with in-laws, as mentioned earlier), and only because an email was sent out mid-week asking for people to contribute. So, like a sucker for a plea, I agreed to bring 2x bags of pears (for 2x kids).

Then of course all hell broke loose later that week with the adults falling sick. So even feeling like shit on that Thursday, when I had to go to the post office, I went and purchased $18 of pears at the grocery store, because I was feeling too sick to go to another, cheaper, grocery store (and the weather was also bad). Then Friday morning rolls around, and it turns out another winter storm is predicted for late Saturday night/Sunday morning, so they have decided TO POSTPONE THE FRUIT BASKET MAKING TO THE FOLLOWING WEEK. So now I had 16 pears, and I knew we weren't going to finish 16 pears, and those pears were not going to last the week. 

I drove around with the pears in the car that day (7th Feb), thinking of what to do with the pears. I even thought about offering them to random parents at E's school pick up, but I thought that was too weird even for me. Instead when I went to Kumon, I offered them to Miss Debbie, E's teacher. Turns out Miss Debbie likes pears, and so I give her 6. Then as a joke to one of the kids sitting next to E, I offer him pears. Then it strikes me that his dad, who I have been friendly with, and spoken to a few times, is probably waiting in his car in the parking lot, so I go out to look for him and offer him 6 pears too, and he happily accepts them. Although I am happy that the pears did not go to waste, I am annoyed that I had to pay through the nose for the pears, and still have to repurchase them next week.

Then Saturday night, the fridge starts making loud noises. We can't tell what's wrong with it. Sunday morning Jon thinks the freezer is not working, because things are starting to melt. It is still cold out and in the house, so it's hard to tell what is happening - we think maybe the refrigerator is just not cooling very well, but that it still 80% works. Monday I am so out of it and exhausted because I haven't slept, and the fridge still seems cool. I am preoccupied with trying to stay alive, cook, do chores, and bring E to her Girl Scouts meeting while watching M in the library. I feel like death.

Tuesday I start to wonder if the fridge is really kaput, and I open the freezer and everything has thawed. There is blood from meat everywhere, and it has mixed with melted ice cream. I see it and want to throw up. I am so exhausted, sick, and miserable, I almost have a breakdown, except maybe I am too tired to even lose it. Jon orders a small fridge from Amazon, scheduled to arrive on Wednesday. For 24h the reality hits that we have no fridge, and I don't know to provide and take care of my family and I still feel physically like death. M keeps trying to eat cheese from the broken fridge. I think Jon bought take out that night, I don't remember. 

Wednesday comes and I still feel physically wretched. My stomach is so messed up I can't even nap, or if I do it's a very light sleep for only 10 minutes at a go. I feel like collapsing. Just before I leave to pick E up, the fridge comes. It's a decent size, a little bigger than a mini fridge. It's about the same size as the fridge I had in my dormitory room when I was in Teacher's College. When E is at her gymnastics class, I drag my sorry ass over to the nearby Shoprite to buy some things for dinner, like a rotisserie chicken, and some basic supplies like milk. I also decide to repurchase the pears, because I felt so sick I didn't know if I would be able to make another trip to a grocery store before Sunday. I viciously decide to pick smaller sized pears this time, and pack only 7 per bag instead of 8 like I did last week. The bill is still probably $15 or some absurd figure - why are pears so goddamn expensive???

This of course, brings rise to another problem, where do I store the pears? If I keep them inside the house, they will ripen quickly and spoil. I can't put them in the fridge either, because we simply have no space. Every time we need to put anything into the fridge, it's like a mini Tetris game. So, I tie the pears up in a reusable bag, and leave them outside by our back door. It's where I also put some cans of seltzer, because there is no space for them in the fridge either. It being February, the weather is of course still nuts. One day it snows and turns into rain, and the other it drops way below freezing. Two of the seltzer cans swell until it looks like they are about to explode. But I still have no place to put the pears and so I leave them outside, and every time I wonder what is happening to them with the crazy temperatures they are subject to, I am filled with grim resentment. I resent these fucking pears and I hope they suffer from the vagaries of the weather. I only agreed to purchase and bring them to church, I didn't promise to take care of the pears in the interim. I notice the bag also moves around a little, but I didn't think much of it. 

Somewhere around Thursday I realise that  I am probably suffering from bad GERD. I have been having heartburn, which is why I wake up wide awake at 2am and then am unable to fall asleep until hours later. I end up take my GERD medication twice a day, and I am able to sleep again. While I have been suffering from GERD, my other cold symptoms have completely disappeared. Jon on the other hand, has still gotten bad lingering symptoms and is exhausted too. I don't remember what happens that Saturday night, but when we wake up on Sunday I know we are not going to church that day, but I still need to deliver the pears. E wakes up around 10am, and Jon goes to take a nap around that time. Around 10:50am after dragging my feet all morning I finally go to get ready just so I could drop the pears off at church after service. Before leaving I retrieve the bag from the back door, and to my (slight) dismay, I realise there are small chew marks on two of the pears. The squirrels must have somehow wriggled their faces in and given the two of the pears little teeth scrapes. Whatever, not my problem.

I drive over to church, and I am still grumpy as hell. I bring the fruits to the parlor, where the fruit basket assembly is to take place, running into various people. I tell them about the ordeal I had with the pears, and they are all sympathetic about the broken fridge and having to throw food out. Even though I am still resentful and annoyed about the pears, my mood does shift a little as I start to interact with friends. Then as I am hanging around, Julie appears, and while racing around like a madwoman she asks if I have time to help pack the fruit baskets. Considering that this is the rare time I don't have kids to take care of at church, I grudgingly agree, and so then I find myself helping with the fruit baskets. I team up with N, Julie's son to pack the bags together, and it is fun guiding him to pack 2 bananas and etc. in each paper bag (not a literal basket). I am less pissed about the pears, but I have fulfilled my promise, and I know the pears will be appreciated by their recipients.

It's been almost one and a half weeks since this nonsense wrapped up, and even now as I recall the whole ordeal of the pears, I am still irritated. It's just one of those ridiculous things in life when the shit hits the fan all at the same time, and it's so absurdly mundane yet aggravating. So anyway, fuck pears. 

Last Day of 2024

I just came back from yoga class and I feel (like always) that I have been through the wringer and that I now need a nap. Although I mainly go for the health and exercise benefits, I do like listening to the little talks the teachers give at the beginning of the classes. One big theme in yoga is about appreciating and being thankful for various things in your life, and of course it being the end of the year, this was the one the teacher picked to talk about - a year in review sort of thing. 

Well I was thinking about it as I was working out (between the grunting and feeling like I am going to die from doing all this physical work), and I thought about how incredibly lucky and blessed I was this very day, and that just years ago this would have been unthinkable, and how far I (and the rest of my family) has come. 

I still remember the worst New Year's Eve, it was in 2020 (into 2021). Covid was in full swing, so we hadn't seen our families in ages. I was feeling isolated in St Louis, because I didn't have any close friends, and all the neighbours I was friendly with were spending time with their own families. But of course, Jon has work, though he said he could come home early. However as the day progressed, he kept texting that he kept being held back at work. An expected arrival home around noon became 2pm, 2pm became 3pm, 3pm because 4pm... etc. In the end he came home around 6 or 7pm that night, basically normal working hours. I ended up crying and having a huge breakdown sometime in the afternoon because I was so upset. I remember being on the main level of our Sarawood house, and lying on the red bean bag crying. Meanwhile toddler Elizabeth was aware something was wrong, and I recall her trying to give me tissues or a hug, and then wandering off to  do something else. I felt so lonely and alone, and overwhelmed with being the primary caregiver all the time.

Today however, I am typing in a peaceful and quiet house. The girls are staying with their grandparents in Long Island. After spending a week travelling all over to see family (Aunty WY and her family + Mama in Maryland, my in-laws in Long Island), Jon and I left the girls at my in-laws so we could clean the house and get things done. I just came from a yoga class, then I am going to fix a simple lunch for myself, knit a little, and clean the girls' bathroom upstairs. At some point I also need to fold the laundry, maybe mop the floor (or persuade Jon to do it when he gets home later), shower and take a nap. Then tonight, we will go see Billy Joel in concert in NY, and then head over to my in-laws. Tomorrow we will drive back with the girls to NJ, to resume our usual grind on Thursday. I am grateful that I have the chance to do these things, and be with the people I love. Going forward, my greatest wish for the new year is that M will start sleeping through the night/by herself, so I can get undisturbed sleep and feel like a functioning human again.

5 Things That Made 2024 Special (or Different from Other Years)

1. Learned how to knit properly

I learned knitting when I was about 16 years old from Mama, but never really learned how to do anything beyond a longtail cast on, and the knit and purl stitches. Around then, I also tried to make a 2x2 rib stitch scarf, that I never completed. Then around 2017, I knitted a mini 'blanket' for Saffron, and a simple garter stitch scarf. Somewhere during Covid, I got the idea that I could learn to knit a sweater for E, but that never amounted to anything. Finally this year however, I decided to learn how to knit properly, especially because I love the look of knitted items vs crocheted items. I visited my new local yarn store (Anne-Marie is the name of the owner, and she's a hoot), got my first circular needle, and made a little pot-holder. Since then I have made scarves and socks. I am now working on a sweater each for E and M.

2. First family holiday

We went on our first family (of 4) holiday! We drove through CT and MA, and then ended the trip with a quick visit to my in laws in Long Island. It was enjoyable, but tiring.

3. Learned yoga

Started doing regular exercise for the first time in years, and decided to start with yoga because I thought it wouldn't give me a heart attack at the very least. Well it didn't, but it is decidedly kicking my ass. That being said, I am definitely a lot stronger than I am before. I can even do a side plank now!

4. First warfare reenactment (American Revolution)

One of the things I wanted to see when I first came to the US was a battle re-enactment - any sort was fine. Finally after a decade of being in the US, Jon and I went to one with the girls in New Milford. We had coincidentally been driving by the area the previous weekend and had seen the advertisement for it. Jon and I really enjoyed it, the girls not so much because they found the gunfire to be too loud.

5. Probable ADHD diagnosis

For years I always wondered why I seemed to always be more easily frustrated most people, and why I am always distracted and fidgety. I also used to joke that the only reason I didn't have ADHD was because I not hyper, instead I am low energy and tired all the time. Well, I ended up seeing a random meme-like image randomly online a few months ago, and things started to line up. I ended up talking it over with my psychiatrist, and he agreed that the ADD side (which had been subsumed into ADHD in the medical field, in the past it was it's own diagnosis) definitely explained a lot of my school and education experiences, and my current experiences. Anyway it doesn't change very much for me right now, as a stay at home Mom, but it does help me think about things and my own behaviour in a useful way.

Interview with a Vampire

I have just finished reading Interview with a Vampire by Anne Rice. An old novel (published 1976!) it is well known in popular culture, along with the movie in 1994, and apparently a recent reboot in the form of a tv series. Now, I must preface this post by saying that I have somehow, at the ripe old age of 34, avoided all forms of contact with anything Interview with a Vampire-Anne Rice until now. I had a vague idea of the movie starring Brad Pitt, but that was about it. I remember changing the channels when the movie used to appear as reruns on Channel 5. I simply do not care for vampire fantasy anything. I get it intellectually, but don't really see the appeal. So even though I know the novel by Anne Rice is of some significant acclaim, I didn't really feel the push to read it, that is until it came up in a conversation I had with a friend, Fin. Fin is a huge horror movie buff, and somehow that book came up when we met at a coffee shop sometime in late Aug (or maybe early Sept, it was before E started Kindergarten). Anyway Fin urged me to read it, and I said I'd give it some serious consideration. 

I was looking for another book in the library when I happened to come across a copy of Interview with a Vampire. I was quite surprised because it was a small library - just like all the libraries in Bergen County are small - and I knew they frequently weeded their collection thanks to the forever ongoing book sale right by their front entrance. Yet there it remained, so I pulled it out of the shelf... and immediately burst out laughing. I did borrow the book, but texted pictures of the front and back cover to my friends to also laugh at:

Anyway thanks to that ridiculous cover, I didn't really have much expectations about the book. But boy was I fooled. This novel was no pulp-y, easily digestible thing. Instead it was deeply introspective, wrought out, and required focus to fully appreciate it's many intricacies. And given that I seldom have time to read or the mind to focus, it has taken me at least 3 weeks to finish this novel, because I am so tired from what I am reading. It feels draining to inhabit the passive, agonized world of Louis, and all his feelings and thoughts. 

I took notes of some sections I enjoyed reading: "Not try to separate that loss from some other oppressive realization: that in Europe I'd found no truths to lessen loneliness, transform despair. Rather, I'd found only the inner workings of my own small soul, the pain of Claudia's, and a passion for a vampire who was perhaps even more evil than Lestat, for whom I became as evil as Lestat, but in whom I saw the only promise of good in evil of which I could conceive." and 

"Before, all art had held for me the promise of a deeper understanding of the human heart. Now the human heart meant nothing. I did not denigrate it. I simply forgot it. The magnificent paintings of the Louvre were not for me intimately connected with the hands that had painted them. They were cut loose and dead like children turned to stone... and of course... they could all be reduced to ashes."

Anyway, you can get an idea of the sort of lyricism that this novel abounds with. Every word and every sentence required focus and attention, and that left me tired. I had to take a nap after I finished the climax of the novel, before starting Part 4, the last section of the book. But anyway I am done, and I am glad to have read this book.

Weekly Schedule 2024 - 2025

This year E started attending Kindergarten 5 times a week, and M started 3 times a week at a nearby day care too. I also make an effort to attend yoga at least once a week, and call my parents in the morning. A typical week thus goes as follows:

Mondays

Drop E off at school by 8:50am, bring M to gym from 9:30am to 10:15am. Sometimes do chores like grocery shopping afterwards.

Pick up E at 3:20pm, bring E to girl scouts if there is a meeting that week (lasts usually an hour), finding a way to entertain M in the interim. Attempt homework with E. The evening routine (and for all days of the weekday) is usually cook dinner/reheat dinner, bathe girls if there is energy and time, feed girls if Jon is coming home late.

Tuesdays

Drop E off at school, drop M off at school right after. Chores/go home.

Pick up E, bring her to Kumon. Wait at Kumon for E to finish. Go to pick up M together. Attempt homework with E. 

Wednesdays

Drop E off at school, drop M off at school right after. Chores/go home/yoga. 

Pick up E, bring her to gym. Wait at gym, go to the nearby library, or go grocery shopping. After class is finished, go to pick up M together. Attempt homework with E. 

Thursdays

Remind E to return her school library book. Drop E off at school, drop M off at school right after. Chores/go home/yoga.

Pick E up, bring her home to finish any undone homework (!!!) Pick M up and bring her home. 

Fridays

Drop E off at school. Play with M at home (or library nearby if I have energy... I usually don't)

Pick E up, bring her to Kumon. Wait at Kumon with M (which SUCKS), or bring her out to the grocery store nearby to get nonsense. Pick E up and head home. 

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While on one hand it seems like I have a lot of spare time (and I do! I am very lucky compared to others), so much of my spare time is just spent napping because rare is the night that I get a full night of undisturbed rest. M wakes me up every night, either because she is suddenly itchy, or wants my arm, and I am right there next to her in bed for her to disturb. Furthermore, on days that M goes to day care, she naps there too and I can only get her to sleep around 10pm. And if I don't get enough rest, I am so drained by 6pm and start to get headaches and/or crazy stomach symptoms, so I need to nap. I am so tired in general, and of course house chores are never-ending. And so, thus is my life nowadays.

Trunk or Treat

This year we participated as Trunks in two Trunk or Treats - one at E's school, and the other at one run by our church. I originally didn't want to do it twice, but because they were sorely lacking volunteers at the one at E's school and would have cancelled the event otherwise, I signed us up. It was a nice experience, and I know more about decorating and what to expect for next year. 

What I didn't like however, was us ending up going home with giant bags of ungiven out candy (I was worried there wasn't enough, and had brought more to give out), and my kids gorging themselves on it instead during the week. Furthermore, during the Trunk or Treat events themselves, when Jon and I were busy giving out candy to other kids, E and M were tearing through their entire bounties. I feel slightly nauseous just thinking of the sheer amount of sugar that has been consumed. Meanwhile, we haven't actually had Halloween yet - that's a few days away. Who knows what will happen on that day, Jon will be working and I will have to manage both girls myself, since it seems people tend to go Trick or Treating on the earlier side in NJ.

Cycling

 Last week I bought a second hand bicycle off FB marketplace. It was my 2nd attempt at buying a bicycle - the first one at 26" wheel size was too big for me to stand comfortably - and I had hoped this one would work out. E was with me at the time, because her school hadn't started yet, so when I was trying it outside, she of course wanted to join in on her own little bicycle. 

I don't know when the last time I cycled was, but it was at least 10 years ago. I don't recall ever having cycled in the US, and the 2 years preceding that I was busy working and don't think I managed to cycle with my Dad at East Coast Park on a rented bicycle (although I have fond memories of those sort of outings). I was not a good cyclist 10 years ago, and now 20 to 30 lbs heavier and with messed up hips (thanks pregnancy!), getting on a bicycle again was very stressful because 1) I didn't want to fall (of course), 2) Falling now would suck a lot more than falling 10 years ago, 3) I had a little child following me around and unable to actually properly cycle on her own.

So after going up and down the road a little but last week, and managing to figure out how to brake properly, not fall off, and change the gears, I put the bicycle away in favour of being Mum and helping E cycle somewhat. We ended up meeting the neighbours and their kids, and the oldest boy ended up helping E the most while I chatted with Grandma who was watching them outside. 

Anyway this week, E has finally started Kindergarten, and so she is off at school. M is at her day care on Tues, Weds, and Thurs. So last night, while trying to sleep, I suddenly got the idea that I could cycle to the town library (since it's all small residential roads) to pick up a book that I had requested. My aim was just to be familiar with cycling, and if I couldn't make it to the library/make it back, I'd just walk home and drive to retrieve the bicycle. 

I ended up taking about maybe 10 minutes to cycle to the library. It was a very nerve wracking 10 minutes, because I also never noticed before how the path there is ever-so-slightly downhill. My tailbone also ached like hell. Once I got to the library I was just so relieved, and I ended up taking a break there to read for a bit before setting off for home. While almost halfway back, I saw one of the other Moms from E's class, and doubled back a little to say Hi. This Mom told me about another path that goes around the North end of the lake (the road and route I took is to the South of the lake), and so after saying Bye, I went to explore a little bit. Well, I found the path after asking for directions, and am happy I found it. Then I cycled back, and it was such a pain because I was going ever-so-slightly uphill and my muscles are very out of shape. 

Overall I am happy I managed to go on this little excursion/exercise and sustain no injuries.

24 Hours

The last 24 hours (ok, 25, to be precise) have absolutely sucked. Nothing life alteringly bad, but endlessly shitty nonetheless. It was already a busy and tiring week, with E no longer at the town summer camp, but instead the much shorter gym camp (9:30am to 12pm vs 8:30am to 2:30pm), and M waking up and screaming multiple times a night, every night. Everything was tiring but still OK until Friday (into today), when for some reason all of the bad luck and crappiness happened all at once.

The first bad thing that happened was when I was in the library yesterday with M. We were there for Friday story and playtime. M wanted me to carry her, and while I was carrying her to the adult section so I could browse, my left ankle twisted and we both fell down. Luckily the library was carpeted, but it was still awful. The last time I had a big fall like that must have been close to a decade ago, Anyway because I was carrying her and she fell too, M was crying, though I think it was more from shock than injury. I ended up rolling onto my back and just staring at the ceiling for a while to gather myself. In some sort of weird fluke, no one saw us fall, and I guess we made no noise besides M crying, so no one came to help either (maybe that was a good thing, less embarrassing?)

The second was when I was drinking my usual afternoon tea at the computer. I had sipped maybe 5% of it, and was thinking about the things I needed to do (schedule fall classes for the kids, reschedule a doctor's appointment, etc.), when I knocked the cup over, all over my left thigh. While luckily the tea wasn't scalding hot, it was still quite warm and I am sure I burned off the top layer of skin cells. Not to mention, there was so much tea and it spilled onto me, the upholstered chair, the floor, and my current knitting WIP. And because I now had to clean up and wash off the tea, I had no time to make another cuppa, so I would have to forego my caffeine for the afternoon. 

Finally the last for Friday was when I couldn't find my phone after coming back from Kumon. I had given M my phone while E was in Kumon class, and I read a library book instead to pass the time. Sometime during the session, M had pooped and I could smell it, which made me feel stressed because I am sure everyone else waiting for their child could smell it too, and I felt bad. The usual getting-into-the-car chaos ensued when E came out, and I drove home thinking to bathe M immediately. Right before bathing M however, I decided to get my phone from my bad and couldn't find it. Worried, I used Google Find my Device, and it said my phone was at Kumon. Fuck. 

After bathing M and stressing to myself, I drove back to Kumon. I walked in, fully expecting that my phone had been found and was in the possession of a teacher. Instead, I found out to my horror that no one had seen my phone, and that I had unintentionally created a small commotion in the quiet classroom. All the kids that had been quietly working had heard me, and had turned to look, excited at the occurrence of any unusual event. E's teacher however, recalled that she had seen M holding the phone when we left, and asked me to retrace my steps. I went outside to look around, and while looking around opened the passenger door to the car to poke around further, and saw my phone lying on its side between the passenger seat and the car door. FUCK. I went back inside again to tell them that I had found my phone, faffing that it was "somewhere outside", and went inside the car to cry.

That night I basically stayed in the bedroom reading by myself while Jon dealt with the kids. The next day I somehow woke up at 10:30am, and felt restored. I thought the run of shitty things had ended with the dawning of a new day, but I was wrong. Instead, after we all piled into the Rav4 to head out to lunch, we found the car battery had died. We switched gears to drive to the nearby grocery store to pick up already prepared food for lunch, and luckily Jon figured out that he could jump-start the car and drive it straight away to Valvoline to get a new car battery. He managed to borrow a jumper cable from our next door neighbour, and he even came over to teach Jon how to use it, which was really nice to him. This whole time period however, was immensely stressful. We didn't know if and how to fix the problem initially, and how long the whole process would take. I needed the car during the weekdays to drive the kids around. Jon proposed taking a taxi to work at one point and I would use his car instead. I felt under so much strain, and I was so exhausted from the previous day, so when Jon finally came home in the mid-afternoon after getting the car fixed, my sense of relief was palpable. 

It can't get worse than these 24 hours, right?

Tahdig

I've been lucky to have been exposed to a huge range of cuisines throughout my life, so now at the ripe old age of 34 (lol), there are few dishes I haven't tried. Still however, as of about a year ago, and cemented definitively by my cravings this year, there is a Persian dish that has now become one of my favourites - Tahdig.

I first learned about Persian food throughout my twenties, from literature like Chicken with Plums by Marjane Satrapi. And from similar sources like that I learned about Fesenjan, stewed chicken with pomegranates, which is one of the most famous Persian dishes. I wasn't too interested in it however, the combinations sounded odd and jarring, too exotic for my tastes.

The first time I tried Persian food was in NYC with Deni. It was at a small eatery in the Flatiron district that had a few vendors. I think it was soon after halloween, because I remember taking to Deni about the Spirit Halloween store nearby being on clearance. I don't even remember what year it was, but I guess it must have been before she moved to D.C.. It might also have been a weekend, because the eatery was half closed, but the Persian side was open. It was run by a jolly middle aged man, and that was the first time I tried Fesenjan and was overwhelmed by the clash of flavours. I don't remember exactly what else we ordered. I left the experience thinking I was glad that I had tried it, but that I wasn't exactly keen to try it again. 

In STL however, after we moved to Creve Coeur, Jon and I saw on Google maps that there was a curiously placed restaurant in Bridgeton, in a dead strip mall right by the 270 and a Chic-Fil-A (that was always busy, of course), called Esther's Persian Kitchen. Bridgeton is well, a little dumpy. It's utilitarian, but boy it is an ugly place. It also seems like a weird spot to have a Persian eatery, so out of curiosity we went there to try it out. It was also probably at least 5 years since my last experience eating Persian food in NYC. 

Esther's Persian Kitchen turned out to be another one-man show. Esther was the name of the guy's daughter, and she encouraged her father to set up a little eatery. There was never much foot traffic every time we visited, but it was just as well because the owner was always running around doing everything. We visited at least 3 times, and it was during one of these trips that I discovered the beauty that is Tahdig, and fell in love.

Tahdig is basically burnt rice crust, usually served with stew. It is so simple an idea, like the brunt rice that sticks to the claypot in Claypot Chicken Rice, except there is more of it and it is consistently burnt in a disk. Mmmmmm. I can't logically explain why I love something so simple so much, but I do. I guess by the same token, I also love Guo Ba.

Anyway one of the things I was sad about moving away from STL was missing the food. We had a Nicaraguan place we loved (Fritanga), a fusion Asian place (Lona's Little Eats), great BBQ (Salt and Smoke, Pappy's), Southern Fried Chicken (Grace Meat + Three), Balkan food (Balkan Treat Box), diner breakfast (Original Pancake House), and etc. It turned out however that in the case of Persian food, we lucked out moving to our current location, because for some reason, there are not one, but two Persian restaurants in nearby Ridgewood. So far we have tried both of them, and the Tahdig they serve satisfies my cravings. 

These two restaurants, Pardis and Parisa, are both very nice and elegant places. They have table cloths and water glasses made of glass. They also of course, have nice prices to match. While I am happy that I am able to easily satisfy my craving for Tahdig, there is still something I prefer and miss about the Tahdig made by the one man place in STL, in the run down dumpy strip mall.

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This disjointed post, which falls far below my own expectations of my writing skills, but which I will post anyway, is brought to you by my children who have (during the time I was trying to write):

1. Did their homework half way and then ran around
2. Threw all the toy food out of the bin
3. Spilled Capri Sun somewhere in the house
4. Crawled under the computer table and poked my foot
5. Run off to poop
6. Chased after the one running off to poop with a broom

It's no wonder I feel like a gormless moron nowadays.