I Want to Be Beautiful

I found an article on CNN that really resonated with me. I'm talking my heart started racing, and tears came to my eyes. It had nothing to do with genocide, endangered animals, or the destruction of natural resources. It wasn't even a military surprise homecoming. So then what was this emotion about?

Plastic surgery. (Find the article here.)

Yes, that's right. I almost started weeping over elective cosmetic reconstruction. More specifically, the article was about Asian people (women and men) undergoing surgery to look more Western. As an adult, I understand that people come in all different shapes, sizes, and colors. I know that each one of us is beautiful in our own way. As a child, not so much.

Me-circa 3yrs old. Long before I knew how uncool,
then cool, looking Asian was.

I wanted to so badly to fit in with the other kids in school. I hated being different. I was a different color. My hair was different. My eyes. My nose. My face is flat. And I have a horribly dark mustache. No one in our tiny town looked like me. Add in the fact that math was a breeze, and I loved books. I was a magnet for bullies. The boys were not nice. (More about that here.)

I would see people on tv, in movies and magazines, and wish on every first star that I would wake up the next morning looking like them. Alas, it never happened.

When I hit fourth grade, I needed glasses. My nose has no bridge. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find glasses that fit a wide/round head with no bridge? It's ridiculous. Getting my glasses fitted usually takes about an hour. In addition to wanting to look similar, now I wanted a nose job just to make my glasses fit. I asked my mom for as much twice when I was younger. The first time she blew me off, the second time she told me we couldn't afford it. It's pretty hard to pay for rhinoplasty when you're forced to wear welfare glasses.

It was a teen tragedy back in the day, but I'm a lot better with my Asian-ness now. My husband is the biggest reason. My Asian features are some of what he loves most about me. My heart soars every time he boasts how happy he is that the girls have my bridge-less nose. Not gonna lie, my children are gorgeous. I make sure to tell them every chance I get. I don't want them wishing they were different from how they were born. It's a rough way to grow up.

So to the ignorant commenters on CNN's article, although the doctor used some superficial reasons that Asians want to look White, it was a little bit deeper for some of us.

I Love Y'all Just the Way You Are,

10 Ways the Hubbs and I Are Alike

So yesterday, I told y'all about the differences that keep my marriage interesting. (That would be here.) Today here are some of the commonalities that keep the marriage strong. Some are deep and some are silly, but they are all what make the Hubbs and me "us."

10 Things the Hubbs and I Have in Common:

1.) We love music (especially country), me to a different level than the Hubbs, but it helps keep the car rides civil.

2.) We both agree on gender roles in our relationship. Basically, we should've been born in the 40s. He brings home the bacon (sometimes literally--he's done work as a butcher) and I cook it. It's not for everyone, even some of our closest friends, but it works for us.

3.) We are both children at heart. My husband likes to play with toys, and I like to be silly and pretend. Luckily, we have three kids who the Hubbs uses as an excuse to push all the "try me!" buttons in the toy department.

4.) Food. We both love to eat. I love that I can make whatever I want for dinner, and he won't think twice about it. Which probably works out well, since I'm Asian and sometimes there can be some pretty suspicious things on the table.

5.) We have a low tolerance for idiots. There seems to be a severe shortage of common sense in the world today, and unfortunately we have to interact with a lot of idiots in BFIowa. Which leads me to the next thing we have in common:

6.) We are both sarcastic asses. I can't tell you how many conversations at our house start with, "Oh. My. God!" or "You will not believe what the h*ll happened today!" Which makes you wonder about:

7.) The Hubbs won't admit it, but he can be a real softie. Lord help us when a kid shows up on our doorstep with a fundraising catalog. We won't turn anyone away if we can help. (Case in point: Just yesterday the Hubbs offered a ride to a guy that just got out of jail. Unfortunately, we were going the opposite direction, but he still offered.)

8.) We love animals. It's probably a good thing that we want to move to the country, because I would live in a zoo if I could. (The movie "We Bought a Zoo"? OMG, I want to live that movie!)

9.) Bonfires. We love everything about bonfires. The smell, the warmth, the food (especially s'mores!), the drinking, and the bonding. 

10.) Probably the oddest thing we have in common? Hardware stores. We love looking around hardware stores. He loves power tools & I love interior design. We once spent over 3hrs in a Menards, and we didn't see all that we wanted to, lol.

Opposites do attract, but you've got to have some things in common to keep the relationship working. What do you and your love have in sync? Link it up!


Oh, and check out the bestie's list here. She also did a post yesterday.

Much Love,

10 Ways the Hubbs and I are Different

June is pretty much the Month of the Hubbs. Between his birthday, Father's Day, our anniversary, and the anniversary of his graduation from Boot Camp, the focus is on him a lot. (Which he cannot stand!) How perfect that The Pioneer Woman did a blog post about the differences between her husband and her. I'm already thinking about my man, what's a little more blogging about him going to hurt? (Besides your eyes, for which I apologize. ☺)
You can find Ree's original post here.



Differences Between the Hubbs and Me:

1.) He loves working with his hands & doing "manly" labor.
Give me a book and a couch, and I might not move all day.

2.) If he had his way, inside our house would be ALL WHITE.
Simply put, I like colors. (He is not allowed to pick out paint, he is sent to the lumber yard with paint sample in hand and specific instructions, lol.)

3.) The Hubbs loves video games. I have been a Call of Duty: Black Ops widow on more than one weekend.
While I love Bejeweled & other Facebook games, I'm bored within twenty minutes. (Please refer back to #1.)

4.) The man likes bananas, yogurt, oatmeal, and Jell-O.
I have texture issues. All of the above feel nasty. Yuck!

5.) The reverse of #4: I love, love, LOVE spicy foods.
The Hubby is a big wuss when it comes to the spice. My mother will make special dishes just for him when we eat at her place. (Such a wonderful mother-in-law!)

6.) I think my husband can count his friends on one hand, and only a few know how he feels about them.
I cherish my family and friends. I have no problem letting them know it, either. (He makes fun of me for telling people that I love them--well, I do!)

7.) I enjoy cooking, especially for others.
My husband is not allowed in my kitchen.

8.) I love information and learning.
If the Hubbs wants to know something, he'll ask me. He knows that if I don't know it, I'll look it up.

9.) The Hubbs can't stand anything small. I think it has to do with his Alpha-manliness.
Give me something mini, junior, or a baby anything and I will squeal like a schoolgirl.

10.) In a word: Memory. (I'll let you guess which of us has issues remembering things.)

Those are only a few of the differences between us. They make life interesting, and some of our differences are complimentary. Like when we go out to dinner, he doesn't like tomatoes and I can't stand mushrooms, so we switch. If we had everything in common, we'd probably get bored. That's not to say we don't have some things we agree on, but that's for a later post.

This was such a fun thing to think about. So what about you and your significant one? What differences do y'all have? Link it up!

Much love,

Bringing Memories to Life

Today is our anniversary. The Hubbs and I have been married for seven years. We just finished brunch, and funny enough, he asked me if I have the ability to make memories come alive. The short answer is yes, I can.

Little does he know how often I relive the moment that we met. I can smell the smoke in the air of the bar, the cold chill and sweet smell of smoke machines. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, and not knowing if it’s from the bass in the music, or from the rush of adrenaline as I tried to work up the nerve to walk over and say hi. I knew the second that I laid eyes on him, that he would be significant in my life. I can’t say I knew we’d be where we are today, but I remember thinking

“He is going to mean a lot to me.” And he does. He has given me my world.

I remember the look in his eyes the first time he told me that he loves me, and asked me to move in with him. It’s the same depth I saw when he was down on bended knee asking me to marry him. When he proposed, my breath caught in my chest. I had tears threatening at the corners of my eyes. Today, I feel the same shortness, the same tears threatening. I’m smiling.

The day we were married, everything was a frenzy. My family arrived early, my mother brought food (as always). My best friend was a witness. I remember how honored I was that she would take the time on her birthday, her own special day, to be a part of my happiest day. I was so emotional, so harried, that I know I didn’t even convey half of my gratitude for her.

When Medium was born, the Hubbs tried to stay with me as much as possible. I was so scared when he couldn’t stand to be in the room for my epidural. I was so disappointed in myself for not being able to withstand the pain. It broke what was left of my resolve that he left me with the anesthesiologist and nurses. It meant the world to me when, after he came back into the room, he told me how proud of me he was.

He is my strength, my rock. He’s the one that keeps me grounded. I’m a kite constantly reaching for the heavens, always dreaming, sometimes going off half-cocked. The Hubbs is the one that keeps a steady grip on my string, making sure that I don’t fly too high. Making sure that I will always find my way back down to him, and make my way back home.

I see our daughters in his chair with him, snuggled under pink and purple blankets. Everyone snoring, in what look to be the most uncomfortable positions possible.

I smell cupcakes, cookies, and cakes fresh out of our oven. With little hands reaching for icing and sprinkles decorating treats just so for Daddy. “For me?” he asks. “Yes Daddy!” they cry excitedly. “Oh thank you. They look yummy!” he answers.

The girls are running across our yard, hair catching the sun, to ride on the mower with him. “Daddy! Daddy! I wanna ride!”

We are all on a blanket, shaded under a tall tree in the backyard, enjoying a picnic of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cheese curls, Kool-Aid and popsicles. The girls make sure everyone has napkins, even Daddy (although he protests that he has pants for napkins), they giggle at his silliness. After lunch, there is a large tickle fight until the girls run off to play on their play set. The Hubbs and I watch them, in their youthful enthusiasm, grins on our faces. I find myself wondering if they’ll feel the same butterflies, pounding heart, and breathlessness I did when I first met their father.

So yes, Papi, I can make memories come alive. Happy Anniversary my Love.

Photo courtesy of Mary Decrescenzio Photography.