Honesty Over Harmony

Wish I lived here

Wish I lived here

“Honesty over Harmony” was something a woman in Colorado once told me. You know how there are quotes that echo in your mind for the rest of your life? This was one of those. It was the title of a course she and her husband took after an episode of infidelity. I can’t say I agree on that front, but I do believe it has a purpose (more on that later, probably).

After my last blog, I received some “honest” comments and by that, I mean death threats… mostly from family members (aka Crazy Middle Sister). This, I expected and understood, but this is my blog, and if the truth hurts, I can only suggest some personal introspection. If anyone should be sending me nasty messages, it should be Cliff and Chase. They have oft been the inspiration for my blog and usually don’t know about it until I’ve posted. I always appreciate their feedback, listen to their pleading, but if sugar-coated family times are what they are looking for, I suggest they start viewing old Leave it to Beaver or Brady Bunch episodes. To their credit, they have an amazing sense of humor and surrender about the whole thing. It also means I can count on at least a few days of super “good behaviour” after I roast them in a blog. I love them for putting up with my rants in person and in Blogsphere.

Not Us

Not Us

I like to think I am most honest about myself. People I know who read this blog tell me how much they laugh sometimes. Do I get offended? No. I never know what makes people laugh, but if my life-adventures bring a chuckle or two, call me Mother Theresa. If you’re the type of person who is offended by everything, Freakin’ A, let me be the one to tell you, no one likes you or wants to spend time with you… and YOU WILL NEVER FIND A HUSBAND. Back to me. The other day, I went out, in my usual Brazilian, spandex workout uniform, thinking I looked pretty good. I was wearing the one pair of capri pants that weren’t black (this pair was actually a sky blue). I go to spin, do some yoga, run errands, then I get home. To my horror, I realize these capris give me camel toe to the degree that would make a camel’s podiatrist blush. I’ve been walking around, visiting my fishman (who did give me a good deal on some wild Sea Bass), looking like a Smurfette with no panties! Well, needless to say, I peeled off those pants and they were retired in the trash can.

I don't get it.

I don’t get it.

SCHOOL HONESTY: Private school admissions letters are due to be mailed out April 5th. We can access the verdicts online by the 6th, but call me old-fashioned and superstitious, but I like the anticipation of trying to use my x-ray vision, waiting for Chase to come home, and ripping an envelope open. Good or Bad, I think Chase needs to experience that for himself. My other sister in Virginia, who is a super spy during the day and yet somehow manages to have time to raise 2 girls on her own and be my personal IT support, told me she thinks I’m too hard on Chase in the blogs and making him sound academically average. That made me a little sad, because that is absolutely not the impression I would ever want anyone to have. Nor would I want him to think I felt like that once he is older and diligently reading and savouring all of mommy’s precious blog posts. I apologize if I have not accurately portrayed my son’s awesomeness. As parents, it is a fine line between being motivational while belittling your child and crushing his spirit completely. I try to ease up when I see quivering chin action.

BASEBALL HONESTY: Little league sure has changed. We (and by we, I mean Chase) are in the Majors playing on the Texas Rangers. Chase has always been The Hitter. He usually plays clean up and hits it over the fence at least once every season. That being said, I told the new coach to please not put him at #4 (Clean Up Batter) early in the season because he puts a lot of pressure on himself and ends up choking at bat. Of course, during practices, Chase was killing the pitches. Really performing well, and by the time games started, they decided to start him at #4. Chase hasn’t had a hit in 6 games. After game 4 they finally put him at #8 which was a big relief to all of us, but I’m worried the damage has been done. We are trying to stay confident and upbeat for his sake, but he cries after every game because he feels like he’s let everyone down. To be honest. This may be our last season.

Chase is #1 in our book. Number 12 on the team.

Chase is #1 in our book. Number 12 on the team.

Net-Net, I’m sorry if feelings are hurt. I try to disguise names as much as possible (not really). With everything going on in my family right now, that phrase, “Honesty over Harmony” never rang more true. I’ve learned one thing: You can eventually have harmony with honesty, but you will NEVER have harmony through lies. Peace out.

Until next time…

Unwrap Unravel

Moving Day

Moving Day

Moving is a lot like having a baby. You forget how tough it is until you have to do it again.

February 26th Tuesday: 9am Chase has last private school interview. 12:00 Meet trucks with Tokyo shipment.

February 27th Wednesday: All Day Unpacking & Organizing

February 28th Thursday: 8:30am Spin class. Rest of the day Unpack & Organize. 7:30pm Baseball practice.

March 1st Friday: More Organizing. 4:00pm head to Columbia, South Carolina

March 2nd Saturday: 7:30am Church sponsored yard sale at Dad’s

To compound the situation, every night this past week, Chase needed help preparing for a test. Between going to bed late and waking up by 4am every day, I felt like a the moving box myself. Unwrapping. unraveling.  Suddenly, I have mover’s ADD. How many times did I walk into a room needing something and as soon as I passed the threshold,  stop and wonder, “What did I come in here for?”  I try to handle stress in small increments and by breathing. Sometimes, I supplement with crunchy snacks and alcohol. By the time I had to leave my house to help dad with his house, I just had to pass the box cutter over to Cliff and wish him “Gambatte” (Good Luck in Japanese).

Moving on

Moving on

I was dreading going to my father’s home for different reasons. Taking apart my Mother’s home, going through things she acquired over the years, and just missing her presence in a place where she was so present literally sucks the air out from my body. The feeling that something is missing from our human dynamic is inescapable. On top of this, I have not spoken with my crazy sister (Bess) who lives 15 minutes from me in Atlanta since she called me an asshole in December. I wish there wasn’t this divide between us, but just ONCE, I need her to be a better person and make an effort to show me she values our relationship. Everyone has enabled her craziness long enough, and I have had enough. I know all the arguments for “forgiveness” but I don’t care. I’ve run out of cheeks to turn. She arrived after Chase and I did and when she walked into the room where Mary and I were relaxing, she made a point of saying hello to Mary and completely ignoring me. What are we? 13? Moments like this, I channel my mother and ask her for the strength to maintain my cold stare and stoic attitude. She was a zen master at this.

As if being around Bess wasn’t enough to test me, my father is still seeing that woman. He asked me again, if my sisters and I wanted to meet her. Good God Man! The month of my mother’s birthday! April is the anniversary of her death! NO! I’m going to admit this. She’s not good enough. Not for him, for us, for my mother. Chase just finished 3 days of sex talk at school and he had to hear me tell my father not to marry someone just because he likes the way she sucks chopsticks. By the way, Chase taught me something new. He said the school nurse referred to the penis as the “Junkular”. Cliff and I just looked at each other and tried unsuccessfully not to laugh. I’ve never heard of the junkular gland, and I did my final thesis on drug-induced male sexual dysfunction (this deserves its own blog space). But I digress.

Can you believe, at the yard sale, she had the audacity to show her face knowing we didn’t approve? No respectable Korean woman would do this. I don’t understand how my father would allow it. Many, many years ago, my parents clearly stated that if they ever met Cliff, there would be either a homicide or suicide or both. I asked my dad, how he would have felt, if I, knowing how my parents felt, ambushed them by having Cliff just “bump into” us somewhere. This never occurred to me. There is a proper and respectable way to meet someone else’s family. Yard sale ambush is not on the list. Once we realized who was out there, my sisters and I stayed inside the whole time, sending Chase out with more inventory. Thank God for the children.

I know a lot of people out there are thinking, “this bitch needs to let her dad just get his groove on.” I’m all good with that. Call me old fashion, but whoever is going to be my “step-mother”, doesn’t need to fill my mother’s shoes, but they should at least be wearing a respectable pair of flip-flops.

Traditional Korean Sandals

Traditional Korean Sandals

Until next time…

Personal Essay by Chase Kim Wright

Write about an experience from which you learned something (150-200 words) and illustrate a scene from the experience.

essay

It was 7:30 am. The air was cold and the sun was bright. Today was the day I have been dreading. It was the 600 meter swim. All the new boys gathered at the dock. The only thing the couseler said, “This is the 600 meter swim. Good luck!” I was scared. I could see myself swimming and failing. When it was my turn, I jumped into the murky water and swam as hard as I could. Suddenly images from “Jaws” flashed through my mind. When I was half way to the island I felt like giving up. Out of the murkiness, I hear a voice. It was my counselor, Jack Rice sitting comfortably in his kayak yelling, “Don’t give up! Feel the power of the flamingo god!” The flamingo god was our cabin mascot. I don’t know why, but hearing these words motovated me to finish the challenge. As I crawled onto the dock, I felt I was on the top of the world. In the few moments I had to myself, I felt likd I could do it again. Thankfully, Jack quickly arrived and offered me a ride. As I sat in the boat, I thought, I could do anything I wanted.

essaypic

This, is Chase Kim Wright.

Until next time…

Ookii and in Charge!

Me w/ Ookii & Maggie

Let me introduce you to our new baby: Ookii. She is our miniature schnauzer and all girl. Many tried to tell me how your second is so much more stressful than your first and they were right! She has been great overall, but when I do feel like I need a break, I just put her in the laundry room with a bowl of water and a chew toy (kind of like when Chase was a baby, sans bowl of water). Ookii means “Large” in Japanese and Ok Hui is a Korean girl’s name. “Win-Win” as the Chinese say. As soon as she arrived, I called the dog whisperer Anna and we have been having puppy training sessions. Anna is with Happy Healthy Pup. Housebreaking has its good days and bad days. Much like myself.

SPEAKING OF LARGE:

Growth Chart

Growth Chart

At the last possible moment, applications to private schools is finally complete. Since I last blogged, we received Chase’s SSAT scores and let’s just say they were not so great. Chase has actually misinterpreted the score report and believes he scored in the Top 29% when the exact opposite is true. After thinking about it, I decided to not burst his bubble. What’s the point? Plus, it will only end up crushing his academic confidence. It is what it is. I remember waiting in the hallway alongside other hopeful parents for our children to finish the test. It’s such a horrible feeling of doom and relief. I can’t even imagine what it must be like outside testing centers in countries like Japan, China, Korea, India when so much rests in the success of that child. As the results of Chase’s SSAT slowly sank into my mind, my heart sank even lower. Now, I have the child who “doesn’t do well on standardized tests”. Now, I have the child whose scores are ”on the very low end of acceptability”. Now, I must say things like, “I didn’t want to be at a school that didn’t look at the whole child.” It is what it is.

Last Saturday, I took Chase to Waffle House to finally satisfy my yen for… well, Waffle House. It made us both realize how much we missed walking together. Our walk had us pass Arlington Memorial Park cemetery and I found myself thinking about my mom. I remembered how she used to tell me, “You are my hopeliest daughter.” I laughed thinking about the obvious translation glitch but also because it made me so happy to remember the sentiment. I watched Chase run ahead of me, still in his bubble of innocence, and I whispered, “You are my hopeliest son.”

Until next time…

Trying To Do the Right Thing

Getting my Yakult On!!!

Getting my Yakult On!!

It’s been about a month since we’ve been back. Things are just starting to feel “normal”. I say this after going to Buford Farmer’s Market today and practically having an orgasm after finding they have Yakult Yogurt! I must have put on some kind of show because a lady who was nearby asked me, “Is it that good?” and then picked up a case for herself.

I’m still not comfortable driving. I swear every other car is being driven by people on their phones talking or texting and it makes me so paranoid. I keep having to remind myself to STAY ON THE RIGHT! STAY ON THE RIGHT!!! And on top of all that,  I don’t know how Georgia code allows mailboxes to be placed so close to the roads. It’s life and death getting your mail here.

Oops!

Oops!

CHASE

The last couple of weeks it has been like DefCon 4 here at the house. We decided at the last minute to try to apply Chase to different middle school Fall 2013. This involved last-minute EVERYTHING. We are applying to 3 different schools. To be honest, I just couldn’t muster the energy to apply to any more than three. They are like college applications nowadays. So for each school, I have to fill out involved background information and write essays about our family and Chase in particular. We have to pay registrations fees to each school. I have to request transcripts and teacher evaluations for each school from all the schools Chase has attended. I also had to late-register Chase for the SSAT which is required by private schools in Atlanta for entry evaluation. His test date is February 2nd. And by the way, did I happen to mention he had Spring Baseball tryouts last Saturday? All the schools have called and we have scheduled the interviews. Why are we going through this madness when we are already at a school with an excellent reputation that he attended since he was 3 years old? As much as we love Holy Innocents’ Episcopal School and appreciate its loving and nurturing culture, things have changed, and Chase has changed.

Very shortly after Chase returned to school, a boy known for being the bully type came up to Chase in the playground and forced him and a friend to stop playing. This boy, then got in Chase’s face and said, “So what are you?!? Chinese or Japanese?”

Next incident: Same boy comes up to Chase at recess and says, “Hey Chase, since you’re so fat, I’ll bet you’re slow too. Wanna race?”

Today, Chase told me he was challenged by this boy to a tether ball game and after Chase won, the boy hit Chase with the ball bruising his arms.

He started school January 7th.

The bullying is horrible, but this boy was a bully before we moved and it is obvious he has suffered no consequences for it.

The other issue is homework. In Tokyo, we often had 3 or more hours of homework each night. Here, we have hardly any homework and much of the homework is extremely easy. It is very hard for me to sit by and watch while Chase re-calibrates his effort towards schoolwork. We practically had nightly exorcisms to get to the point when Chase could survive academically in Tokyo and now there are days when he has no homework because “there’s a test tomorrow”.

Unlike most Japanese, people in the South have opinions. Especially about things like private schools. I’ve heard enough good and bad stories about every school at this point, I feel like it’s God’s Will. Even if we end up staying at Holy Innocents’ Episcopal School, I will take it as a sign that it is just meant to be. The great thing about HIES is I know they will cater Chase’s program for his needs. Given the fact that Cliff doesn’t want Chase to go to Woodward Academy because it’s “in a terrible neighborhood” (and he doesn’t think Chase will get to play sports because of all the black students), and I don’t want Chase to go to Westminster because I want him to have a life, that only leaves Pace Academy. In case you are interested, tuition to these private schools: Woodward ($19,770), Westminster ($22,270), Pace Academy ($22,570). Applications have to be completed around March and early April is when decision letters will be mailed out.

Making the decision to explore other schools for 6th grade is heart-breaking for me. Chase has been at Holy Innocents’ since he was 3 years old. His best friend is there and we have great friends and memories of the school. I don’t know what is the right thing. All I know is I’m just trying to do the best thing and for some reason this felt like it needed to be done.

Until next time…

Boys Weekend & Bitches

Drop Off at the ATL Airport

Drop Off at the ATL Airport

This weekend Cliff and Chase went on their first boys trip together. Destination: San Francisco. They were also going to pick up our newest family addition! Cliff planned a whole trip of visiting friends and sight-seeing. I planned to putter around the house and just enjoy being alone. There was also a Girls Night Out Saturday night.

It’s been about 2 weeks since we have been back in Atlanta. Lots of adjusting and reverse culture shock. I find myself thinking about my friends in Tokyo a lot. It all feels surreal still. One minute I’m surrounded by Asians and now, everywhere I look I see black people. It’s been good to jump back into a workout schedule, but even that is a bit freaky because the women look so “plastic” and the men look so huge. Everyone is starting to look related because they are all out of page 57 in the “Plastic Surgery for Dummies” book. God, I hope I have good friends who will stop me before I inject my lips or suck my hips or enhance my nips.

Boys Weekend day 2

Boys Weekend day 2

This is a picture Cliff sent me on Saturday. I’m not sure this is something any mom wants to see, but at least Chase isn’t wearing an orange jumpsuit and sporting dreadlocks and tattoos.

So Saturday night, I went out with my girlfriends to Del Frisco’s (the latest hot spot in Atlanta dining). I have come to realize that I need to double book GNOs because for some reason people seem to flake out at the last-minute. We went to the St. Regis for drinks afterwards and it was pretty disappointing. Next time I go out, I’m doing some research and finding out where the cool interesting people are hanging out. Everytime I saw a flash go off, I swear, it was like seeing Jigsaw from the Saw series or the CryptKeeper. In Atlanta, if you’re older than 30 and God-Forbid you want to go out somewhere and dance or have a drink, too bad! I miss you Tokyo!

jigsawSunday, I committed to playing mixed doubles for a local team. The captain called me out of the blue because she needed a female for this weekend’s tournament. New team, match play, new partner (who is a man), and it’s super sunny. I was a mess, I thought I would vomit. I got there early and ended up warming up with some people from the opposing team. I felt terrible for the guy I was warming up with because I would have had trouble hitting my ass with a banjo. At one point, he told me he needed to “prepare for his match”, which normally means you want to warm up by hitting. The way he said it, I took to mean, he wanted to quit whistle-dicking around with me.

After being introduced to my new partner, we started warming up right away. Sure enough, those people I warmed up with were our competitors. I still wasn’t feeling great, but too late to back out now. We started hitting and as I played I channeled my girlfriends and my coach from Tokyo. I started to think about representing them in this game and what they would expect. It worked, because we ended up winning 6:1.6:0!

Returning to familiar places is comforting and unsettling at the same time. Things are familiar, but then I realize I am different. I have seen and done things now that color my vision. So much changing and adjusting to do, for all of us. The weather was perfect today, so I took Maggie on a long walk. We needed to talk about the new baby. I reassured her that she was my first-born and I would always have a special place in my heart just for her. Plus, I told her, with the new baby, the bitches out-number the boys now!

Baby

Baby

Until next time…

Happy New Years!

Happy New Years!

2013 Year of the Snake

2013 Year of the Water Snake

The years of the snake are significant to me because it is the year Chase was born. According to Paul Ng (geomancer & philosopher), this is a year of conservation, re-building, and changes. It’s been five days since 2013 started, 2 1/2 weeks since we arrived in America, and we’ve spent 2 nights in our home.

The house looks good albeit huge compared to our Tokyo apartment. We have had plumbers, painters, furniture movers, and deep cleaners, Oh My! It’s not perfect, but at least our renter didn’t turn out to be a hoarder (I’ve seen this happen). Chase has only spent 1 night in the house because my dad decided to come down and visit this weekend instead of next (evidently he wants to make a road trip to Florida). I think my dad has a busier social schedule than me. Because we don’t have furniture on the main level, Chase and Dad are staying with Bess. The one night Chase did sleep in the house, I think the size of the house, our voices echoing through furniture-less rooms, and too many scary movies on the plane got him scared. I kept telling him to “grow a set” whenever I heard him whimpering.

What a wuss!

What a wuss!

I got my juicer yesterday, and I had barely finished unpacking it when Cliff and I got to grinding right away… carrots that is. Our new juicer is the Breville Juice & Blend BJB840XL. What surprised me, is that Amazon sells it for 50% more than retail price! One of my 2013 resolutions is to maintain my weight and juice everyday. It’s funny how you hit a certain age and just keeping things status quo involves a lot of suffering. I was walking the other day and happened to get behind some lady wearing tight, tan, pants and as she walked I swear I could see her cellulite rippling through the fabric with each step. I was engrossed and even stumbled a couple times, but in my mind I was thinking (in a Southern accent), “Lord, why did you show me this?!? Is it not bad enough that I scorn my melting knees and elbows?” After that, I vowed never to wear pants without at least 1 pair of Spanx on board.

Size Matters

Size Matters

I know you are wondering, that is Cliff’s carrot. I know, it’s huge. It’s true, everything is bigger from Texas.

Until next time…

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