Togetherness

Long before I had kids, I pictured myself traveling with them and taking them out to eat all the time. I pictured us in a cafe for breakfast. One kid in a high chair, sitting quietly, while another kid sat in the booth also sitting quietly. We’d converse at a normal volume, eat our eggs and croissants like civilized people, laugh occasionally, and leave without a mess.

Now, I laugh at how unrealistic my vision was.

These days, taking the baby anywhere is a chore. Eating at restaurants results in food all over the booth and floor. Both kids are restless and eager to run around. They’re usually yelling. When the food arrives, Steve scarfs down his meal while I hold G and then we switch. We leave feeling fed but not relaxed in any way.

And yet, going out just the four of us has become one of my favorite things to do. Yes, it’s more work to get us all out of the house. Yes, I still struggle with some anxiety leaving the house. But, I tell myself the pros outweigh the cons. The more we practice getting out, the easier I find it. And, I am loving our adventures together. Whether it’s our regular routine of the library, the bookstore, and Trader Joe’s or exploring something new, I look forward to experiencing life. Together.

Photos by Mo ♥️

Newfound Self

There was life before kids and there was life after kids.

I never anticipated that my life after kids would require intense reprogramming, rewiring, and reparenting of myself. I emerged out of my post-pandemic, postpartum daze eager to do the inner work to become the best parent I could. A mix of different therapies, conversations with friends, and self-help books have gotten me to the more enlightened place I am today - someone who isn’t going to have a crushing panic attack when she leaves the house with her kids.

Looking back at the dark place I was in when I first became a mom, I told Steve that I probably should have been institutionalized. He didn’t disagree.

I’m doing the readings. I’m doing the homework. I’m doing everything I possibly can to be the parent I want to be, the person I want to be. I can finally feel myself going through the transformation. A second coming of myself, if you will.

It took having a kid to make me realize just how severe my insecurities and anxieties were. It took having a second kid to make me finally let go and move on to becoming the person I’m meant to be.

The three biggest revelations I’ve had so far are:

1. Being a perfectionist isn’t a bad thing. In fact, perfectionism is a superpower if I stay connected with myself and remember that “ideals are not meant to be achieved, only meant to inspire” (from a life-changing book: The Perfectionist’s Guide to Losing Control).

2. Emotions aren’t good or bad. They are simply learnings. Learning about what I like and don’t like, what I want more of in my life, what my boundaries are. What I used to consider a “negative” emotion is really my mind and body trying to tell me something.

3. Every part of me belongs. The good, the bad, the ugly, the awkward. The parts of me still yet unhealed. The parts of me that are. Accepting all of me and believing that my worth isn’t conditional - it’s a profoundly liberating feeling.

Even though I see these revelations and I believe in them, I’m not yet at the point where I’m internalizing them. But, I’ll get there. Baby steps.

Maybe when my baby takes her first steps, these newfound beliefs will be a little more rooted in my subconscious. Maybe when she learns to run, I’ll no longer be riddled with fear. I’ll be able to run outside with her. Present. Carefree. Joyful.

Focus

I often feel like I have some sort of attention deficit disorder as a parent. It’s difficult for me to focus on my kids for more than a few seconds before my brain starts to wander. Even when Bub is doing something hilarious to get my attention. Even when G is cooing and smiling in my face. As soon as I realize I’m distracted, I feel the guilt swoop in. I’m a horrible mother for not paying attention to my adorable children right in front of me. How could I not see the gifts before my very eyes? The ones that only last a moment before they’re gone, sometimes forever. They’ll only be little for so long. Focus, Linda! Focus! The judgy, anxious, negative thoughts start to cloud my brain, replacing the random distracted ones that were there seconds before.

The older I get, the more memories my brain collects, which means the more memories my brain can wander to. The more I’m with my kids without a break, the more my brain wanders, because I haven’t given it the time and space to wonder. I used to be able to think about anything I wanted without any guilt.

Honestly, I’m not made for this. “This” being parenting. And because I’m not made for this, I don’t think I’m cut out for it. All my life, I’ve let myself think deeply about things that I want to think about - selfishly. When I became an adult, as soon I wanted to do something, I, more often than not, did the thing that I wanted. Perfectly conditioned to be self-centered by my family, my education, the media, and society at large.

As soon as my kids entered the picture, my world shifted to revolving around them. Physically, mentally, emotionally, logistically, financially. It’s a true mindf***. Thirty years of thinking only of myself and all of a sudden, I’m not able to do that anymore? That’s hard.

What, I’m supposed to be able to stare at a baby for hours now? I’m instantly supposed to be able to play make-believe for hours on end? Asking me to do these things when I’ve had time for myself is challenging, let alone having to do them on a day without any breaks. Yet, I feel immense pressure to enjoy it. You’re going to miss it when it’s gone. There’s that inner critic again.

I wish I had gone to “Parenting School” before having kids. This hypothetical school would wake me up at all hours of the night and time me at how fast I could change a diaper. It would teach me all the “Daniel Tiger” songs I’d need to know for any task or emotion. It would quiz me on how to make a proper bottle of formula. I’d get hands-on training on how to safely buckle a toddler in a car seat. And, the final exam would be to do all of this every day for three months straight while the sound of a crying baby played loudly in the background.

One of the most surprising aspects of parenting is, perhaps, how mundane it can be. Repeatedly building blocks, reading board books, and singing “Row Row Row Your Boat” is…boring and mind-numbing. Four years ago, I could travel anywhere I wanted at the drop of a hat. I could go out to restaurants on a whim. I could stay out late without an ounce of guilt. Now the most exciting part of my day is going to bed without crying.

I became a parent without any training. Zero conditioning whatsoever. So, when I start to feel guilty for not being able to focus on playing Baby Skye in a pretend Paw Patrol scenario with Bub because my brain keeps thinking about a work email, an anxious thought, Timothée Chalamet at the Golden Globes, and the rice that can’t boil over on the stove, I’m going to give myself a break.

It’s no question that parenting is relentless, but how do I stay present in the relentlessness? It’ll take practice, discipline, and more mental stamina than I ever could have imagined. Being present is a practice. Being present is a practice. Being present is a practice.

Help Wanted

With my firstborn, I was such a ball of nerves that I couldn’t appreciate help even when I had it. Now as a second-time mama, I’m finally seeing the benefits of having an extra pair of hands with my kids.

I had so many rules when Bub was born that it was impossible for anyone to watch him, myself and Steve included. I was so hard on everyone. At the time, I convinced myself that I had high standards and wanted the absolute best for my child. In hindsight, I had severe, debilitating anxiety. Some of my rules were:

• Only organic food and milk

• No burnt food

• No food cooked on Teflon or aluminum foil

• No food that’s touched plastic

• Only filtered water

• No scented laundry detergent

• No fabric softeners

• No dryer sheets

• No plastic toys

• No clothes made out of synthetic fabrics

• No screen time

• No phones near him at all

Yeah, I was really intense. I still am. Some of these rules still apply, but I’ve definitely loosened up. For instance, he eats non-organic food now and has had a lot…a lot of screen time.

Family members wanted to watch Bub. It was me that refused. I was terrified of someone watching him and not following my rules. My anxiety and refusal put immense pressure and burden on Steve to be the only other person to take care of our child - in a way that wouldn’t send me into a spiral.

Then, I got pregnant with G and I was physically forced to give up on many of my rules. I needed help with Bub, especially on days I could barely get out of bed. If relatives sneaked him artificially-flavored Oreos and pretzels, I wasn’t in a position to ban them from seeing him. I could remind them, of course, but the reality is that when I’m not around, I don’t have as much control over what he eats or comes into contact with.

Last month, my aunt from Taiwan came to town. She doesn’t have a partner and never had children of her own, but she helped raise all of the kids on my dad’s side of the family. She taught me how to do laundry and put on makeup. She was the one who was there when I got my period for the first time. She was the first to teach me to recycle, planting the seed in my mind that our planet should be taken care of. She inspired me to see as much of the world as possible. She is the mom I wish I had.

And now, my kids are able to develop their own relationships with her. When she comes over, she brings warm food for Steve and me to eat, plays with Bub, holds and feeds G, and cleans the house. When Steve and I want to workout together or grab dinner just the two of us, she pushes us out the door. She’s always game to go on trips with us, sitting in the backseat and assisting with the kids. She does it all without being asked, without being paid, without complaining, and always with love and kindness. I’ve never appreciated her more.

Accepting help has opened my life in ways I never expected. I’m able to give each kid more individualized attention. I have more patience with Steve. I can let myself just breathe. Help lightens the motherload.

Ever Last

There are countless “firsts” when it comes to children. Firstborn, first steps, first word. Yet for all the firsts, there are just as many lasts. Last time I bounced him on my knee, last time I spoon-fed him, last time I picked him up. I find the “lasts” less momentous, unnoticeable even, but I want to remember them as just as pivotal.

When I was a kid, I would cry the night before my birthdays. Sad I was getting older, sad it was my last night to be this age. Even seven-year old me knew that childhood was fleeting. I’m realizing now that this sadness was an example of the anxiety I carried and my unhealthy propensity to hang on to the past.

Slowly but surely, I’m learning how to think about the past without dwelling and to enjoy the present without worrying about the future. With this balance in mind, I knew this photoshoot would be our last as a family of three. I wanted it to be a memento of how much joy we’ve had together and how much we’ve grown. It used to come from a place of sadness but now it comes from a place of appreciation…and excited anticipation for what’s to come.

Thank you, Viceth, for the beautiful photos!