Did You Know Onions Grow in the Dark?

I didn't know that onions grew in the dark until I pulled one out of my closet pantry. I was wondering why my closet was smelling so bad every time I went in to grab TJ a snack. Way down low, in the back corner where it's dark, something was growing wild and free.

When I first caught a pungent whiff of stinky onions, I realized, "Shoot! We didn't finish off the 10 lbs of red onions from Costco in time. Now, they're rotting! Disguuussting!" I quickly held my breath, yanked the sack of remaining offending suckers and made a mental note to self. Next time, put half of the onions in the fridge. Start with the ones in the closet and you'll be fine.

My husband has constantly berated me for buying garlic and onions in bulk when there are only the three of us. But hey, I'm Chinese. I practically throw bulbs of garlic and onions into my stir fry. And I swear, there's gotta be some Italian in my ancestry, because I can't get enough of my pasta. Diced onions taste so good in sauces, whether red or white. And don't forget salads, too.

So, the first thing I did when I realized my onions were decomposing was quickly destroy the evidence and spray with Oust! "There!" I thought. "Hubby won't even know it ever happened." I breathed a sigh of relief, figuring I caught the stink in time.

Little did I know, one onion had rolled out of the sack and escaped to find its home in the corner of my closet. Uh-oh.

What does one say to hubby, after pulling this gnarly plant out from the darkness? With as much pride as I could muster, I would let him know, "Hey, at least I'm learning something new everyday."

As a mom of a toddler, I have a ferocious schedule, trying to squeeze in work, housekeeping, cooking, me time, down time, friend time, blogging time, American Idol time, quiet time, you-name-it-whatever time.

Put together a packed schedule and a first timer through motherhood, what do you get? Lots of learn-something-new everyday. Here's a peek at my running list of new things I'm learning along the way:

1. Washable markers are only washable off hands and not clothes.

2. Babies and toddlers can poop in the bath.

3. Carrying a baby in a sling isn't pain-free.

4. The 30 second rule can be amended to just-brush-it-off-it's-fine rule of thumb.

5. If there's something I don't want to be broken, TJ will hunt it down, and it will be broken.

6. If any toy come in parts, some of the pieces will be forever lost in the Twilight Zone. I will lay awake at night, trying to figure out where it is (Typical bedtime conversation: "Why aren't you asleep, honey?" hubby asks. "Oh, it's nothing..." I answer, while secretly wishing to sneak out of bed to scour the house).

7. I hate squirrels. I hope that they will become endangered species one day.

8. A lot of calories can be burned running around clearing the clutter the day the cleaners come (This is one of the most dreaded stress-frenzied activity. Whenever TJ sees me tidying up, he prophesizes,"The cleaners are coming! The cleaners are coming!")

And now I know that onions grow in the dark. It sure is educational being a mom.

Cross-posted on Silicon Valley Moms Blog where Bonnie is a contributing writer.

Peachy Find: Chopsticks for Two

I have been waiting for the day I'd see TJ use chopsticks. My Asian friends say three years old might be the magic number to start using chopsticks, when the same motor skills used in holding a pen or pencil are coming in play. Using chopsticks for me is on the list of childhood milestones, alongside first steps, first (attempt) self-feeding (aka toddler splatfest), and saying "Mama".

To my surprise, that moment came sooner than I expected! In fact, TJ is just two! We were at a Ng Family gathering, which are regular dinners that my Chinese aunts, uncles, and cousins organize. It's a lot of fun because including kids, there are over 17 people gathered. And it's a total party!

This is the typical Chinese dinner where the noise levels rise to ear splitting decibels and roars of laughter come in constant waves. One of my cousins is actually only 2.5 years old (My mom married young and my uncle married later in life). And my toddler cousin was sporting a pink colored chopstick at one of our dinners. And I was all over it.

"Wow! Where did you get it?" I asked. It was some sort of training chopstick that has a hinge that keeps the chopstics together, but opens and closes as the child picks up food. Plus, it has rings to place their little fingers through, so there's no little fingers slipping through.

My aunt got it at a local Asian sundry store, where they sell pots and pans, kitchen utensils, odds and ends.

Just like his second cousin, TJ was able to use his chopsticks the FIRST TIME he tried them! It was sooo cute and adorable. And it actually turned out to be a much easier utensil for TJ to use and self-feed. The fork is still hit or miss at times, depending on how hard or how squishy the food is. But, the chopstick is awesome. TJ can pick up small morsels and big morsels, no matter how oddly shaped or soft they are.


Soon, TJ was eating everything with his chopsticks. Scrambled eggs and even pancake!

I tried to find them online, so my friends could order them for their little tikes. But, it seems they are only sell wholesale, directly to retailers. Bummer!

In case you come across them at your nearby Asian market or store, they are called Edison Chopsticks.

Just click on the link & you can see an image of these chopsticks, they claim

"It has been studied that using chopsticks helps to develop the intellectual faculties of people.  As many studies say that most of the intellectual powers are developed at the age of 3 to 7 years, for kids
using chopsticks is very important to develop their intellectual faculties."

Well, I don't know about that. But, I do know it was a Kodak moment for me!

Reinventing Date Nights

A friend and I were having breakfast one morning at Woodside Bakery, catching up over coffee, a split fritatta, and fresh pastries. It was great to take a break from our grueling toddler-run treadmills and escape for a morning.

It's fun to hangout with this particular friend because we share a similar timetable for getting hitched and married with children. We became friends when we were both single and in our 30's. We met our spouses around the same time, dated and walked down the aisle within the same year and popped our first baby out after celebrating our paper anniversary.

During our precious time away from being time-crazed women back at home, we didn't talk about parenting or tantrums. Naw, that kinda stuff is left for everyday fodder, playground conversations. No, we got the scoop on top priority topics. One of which was the lack of time with hubbies and missing table-for-two evenings and weekends.

How realistic is it to inject romance as a regular part of life as couple with kids? And did we actually know any long-married couples who were "still in love"?

Going out for date nights is well-known offered advice that married couples get all the time. Never mind it's hard enough trying to figure out what to cook every night of the week. And finding a babysitter? It's not like we have someone on standby. We have to wade through lists and schedules of friends, family, and college student schedules before figuring out what, where and when.

Hubby and I have managed to get out once a month. And we thought we were doing pretty good. Sure, we often go to the same places. It's an easy, no brainer way to enjoy time together. But in a recent New York Times article, some scientists say regular date nights aren't enough to keep the romance alive.

"Rather than visiting the same familiar haunts and dining with the same old friends, couples need to tailor their date nights around new and different activities that they both enjoy, says Arthur Aron, a professor of social psychology at the State University of New York at Stony Brook. The goal is to find ways to keep injecting novelty into the relationship. The activity can be as simple as trying a new restaurant or something a little more unusual or thrilling - like taking an art class or going to an amusement park."

Injecting novelty? Hmmm.. Well, would taking care of TJ count? It's "unusual" and "thrilling" (at times)... And taking a class together? Definitely out of the question. At least, not at this stage in the game with a preschool kid. We've already got a full plate trying to balance our schedule as it is. And people tell me life only gets busier.

A new restaurant? I like this idea. Simple and doable. Sort of. Time out together is such a rare commodity, it seems risky to splurge it an unknown outcome.

As I read down further in the article, I started losing interest. To show how important novelty was in exciting brain activity that correlate to "butterflies of early romance", they asked one couple to simply walk back and forth in a room. Then, they tied the wrists and ankles of the second couple together and had them crawl back and forth pushing a ball.

The results?

"Before and after the exercise, the couples were asked things like, 'How bored are you with your current relationship?' The couples who took part in the more challenging and novel activity showed bigger increases in love and satisfaction scores, while couples performing the mundane task showed no meaningful changes."

Well, whadyaknow! I think any preschooler could tell you it's more more fun to crawl around and push a ball, rather than walking back and forth across a room.

My girlfriend and I brushed off our last bite of treats, but we had a hard time thinking of a long-married couple who were "still in love". We would throw around a few examples, but the closest we got were "happy and comfortable" or "in a functional marriage... it works for them".

Between the two of us, we could only come up with one couple, my hubby's mom and dad.

"What tells you that they are still in love? And what's their secret, you think?" my friend asks.

"Well, for one thing, they love telling the story of how they met, in detail. And when they each tell it, they have their own version. I love how they laugh and correct each other the whole time. You can tell they keep the memory and feelings of first meeting close at hand for recall.

The other thing is that they talk all the time. Mom told me she would get up early before the crack of dawn, to make Dad's coffee and chat a bit before he'd head off to work. And when he got back, they'd "visit" for a while to review the day. They talk non-stop. About anything and everything. And it's not infrequent, I catch them holding hands for no apparent reason .."

How 'bout you guys? Do you know any long-time married couples who are still in love? How do they keep romance alive? Any favorite ideas for date nights?

Cross-posted on Silicon Valley Moms Blog where Bonnie is a contributing writer.

Peachy Find: History of Us Gifts

Valentine's Day is over, but wrapping paper torn from opening gifts that day are still strewn about the house. It's nice. I know a lot of folks who think that Valentine's Day is really driven by the card companies, who want to drive sales.

But, though it's been commercialized, I still love Valentine's Day. Celebrating love doesn't have to be about diamonds and glitz. I like reminiscing about love. Seeing all the chocolate and VDay cards on store shelves reminds me of fun times as a kid, getting ready to pass out cards to friends. I'd get to school, with the wishful thinking I'd find a special "Be Mine" message in my bag of cards that year.

Valentine's Day as a single gal varied from year to year. Some years, it was empowering. Hanging out with girlfriends, I'd spend the evening just swapping stories and pigging out. Some years, it was plain depressing. Those nights were comforted by hot tea and cuddling up with Jane Austen books.

Being married is great, having a lifetime sweetheart. But, it's also a challenge to figure out a unique gift to give. After all, with each year of marriage comes a longer list of gifts already given.

I've found that nothing can beat a handmade gift. 'Cuz at the core, love is simple and from the heart. Taking time out to put something together is one of the best gift anyone can give.

This year, I decided to pick out a few photos from our romance history and "scrapbook" them onto a photo travel coffee mug. I had always been wary of getting "personalized" gifts, because I thought they were a bit passe, from the eighties. Everything had been initialized or engraved to the max. What was once novel, seemed like the easy way out in getting a unique gift.

But, this idea seemed different to me. It was fun to pick out some choice photos and do a collage. I thought it was special to take time and scrapbook some special memories as a couple.
Plus, it wasn't sent in to be done by someone else. I actually cut & pasted them together to create this artwork (oh, gag me with a spoon!).

I chose a picture from our dating days, another from last year's Valentine's Day, and the most recent photo taken on our anniversary. The last photo I chose was a family photo with TJ, Eric and me. It took me hours and days to get through selecting the photos, because I only had TJ's (short) naps to work on this. But in preparing this gift, I found myself falling in love again, reflecting all we've been through together (gross me out to the max!). Ups & downs included.

It was also cool that I found a photo travel mug that was stainless steel. It would keep my hubby's coffee hot. Which is another piece of the History of Us. In our first emails exchanged, I asked my hubby how he liked his coffee. I figured I could tell a lot about a man, by the way he took his coffee (another post for another day!).

So, it was nice thinking hubby was sipping java and thinking of us, as he zoomed to work.

I found a photo pen to give along with the travel mug. I thought it would sit perfectly in his pen holder at work. We could peep out at him, as he's typing his emails and remind him no matter how crappy things get at the office, it's all good back home.

After all, life can be just peachy. And on those days, we need the History of Us to remind us that it's all good. Even when it's bad.

I Love You, Mickey!

In the month of love, when Valentine's Day cards and hearts are strewn throughout supermarkets and card stores, TJ was finally able to meet one of his first loves, face to face.

It all started innocently enough with a tv show, The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, on the Disney Channel. Hubby and I had grown up watching the old Mickey Mouse Club, which was THE best (C'mon, how can you beat the Mousketeer Song!?). So, we didn't think TJ would get hooked on this new version of Mickey Mouse Show.

But, how wrong we were! Suddenly, Elmo was no longer the undisputed best friend. Nope. Out with Elmo. Elmo was for babies. No, he was a big boy now. And Mickey Mouse became his fast friend, watching him play trains, sitting next to him while he snacked, and of course, watched The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse show side by side.

Even before TJ was born, when we would daydream about things we'd like to do with our child, going to Disneyland was a "for sure". We both had fond memories of Mickey Mouse. Eric went to Disneyland when he was just three years old, but remembers the entire trip. He remembers jumping up and down on the back seat, yelling "MickuhMouse! MickuhMouse!"

Me, I didn't get to go until I was 8 years old, but I had already worn out my Disneyland Fairytale Story Books and my Micky Mouse Comic Books. I had spent many a nights under the covers flipping through adventures with Mickey, Donald, Pluto, and Goofy.


Well, thanks to Disneyland Resorts, I was able to make TJ's dream come true this past Sunday. Disneyland Resorts threw a party for Silicon Valley Mom Bloggers.


Lo and behold, Mickey & Minnie, Cinderella and Buzz Lightyear all came in person!! (As you can see, TJ was Aw-Shucks with the princess and a bit wary of Buzz.)

I milked the whole visit up royally the entire week leading up to the Disney Party. Whether it was going to bed, eating his vegetables, or drinking his milk, TJ would immediately snap into some sort of trance and obey. "Mickey Mouse! Mickey Mouse! I want to see Mickey Mouse!" It was amazing!

The morning of the party, I told TJ, "Okay, today is it! We are going to see Mickey Mouse!" And the cutest thing happened. TJ loves his banana in the mornings But, as we were driving in the car, TJ was holding his banana in the car seat and it hadn't been touched. Not even one bite.

"What's wrong, TJ? Why aren't you eating your banana?"

"I don't want to. I want to share with Mickey!"

"It's okay. We can bring another one for Mickey."

"No, I want to eat it with Mickey."

I was so touched that he was willing to share his beloved fruit with MM. I mean, sharing is just not a voluntary default for a two year old! I was AMAZED!

When we were at the party, none of the activities Disney had prepared for the kids seemed to hold his attention. Not coloring, not Mr. Potato Head, and not even decorating the Disneyland Castle.

"I want to see Mickey. Where is Mickey?" Josh was worried. And so was I. Maybe there were not Disney characters coming after all. OMG, if that were to happen, I'd never be able to live this down. Zero credit in Mommy's account forever!

Thankfully, before we had lost all hope, our Disney host announced that someone special has traveled far, far away to come see everybody!

My heart stopped. Yes, please! ... TJ was looking intently. And suddenly, there he was, hand in hand with Minnie!

And boy, oh boy! The sweetest, happiest, most joyful smile lit up TJ's face! He was clapping and dancing up on the chair. Just as naturally, without my prompting, TJ quickly crawled off the chair and started walking towards Mickey. No shyness, just an invisible line drawing him in closer to Mickey.

TJ didn't understand other kids needed a turn with Mickey. In his world, Mickey was there just for him. TJ even showed Mickey a special dance. And when Mickey was waving to say goodbye, he stopped by to give TJ a kiss.

And ever so sweetly, TJ looks into Mickey's big, black eyes, and says, "I love you."

Mickey sure has made a big splash this week. Even the few days ago, Mickey even celebrated Chinese New Year with TJ. Even though we will need to drive hundreds of miles to see Mickey in Disneyland, I know it will seem like nothing when we all arrive in the land where dreams really come true. We love you, Mickey!

Gung Hay Fat Choy with Mickey

Gung Hay Fat Choy! If you are Chinese, you probably have heard this the nth time this week. And if you're not, you've probably been greeted with this a couple dozen times by now. During those early dating days, when random queries are asked to fill airspace, I asked hubby whether he knew any Chinese. "Gung Hay Fat Choy!" was only second to "Nay Ho Ma?" (How are you?) When asked, "Do you know what that means?", hubby replied, 'Happy New Year!' in Chinese."

Actually, it literally means, "I wish you wealth and lots of it!". As a good little Chinese girl growing up in the heart of San Francisco Chinatown (I was born in a hospital named "Chinese Hospital"), I was taught that it was good luck to pronounce this blessing to family and friends. I was told it should be the first thing out of my mouth, as I greet any and all during Chinese New Year.

But, in my childhood language, "Gung Hay Fat Choy" just meant one thing: Cha-Ching!... M-O-N-E-Y!

You see, Chinese people do not want to leave good fortune in the hands of mere words. Those who are married (aka "Elders") give away little red envelopes with money tucked inside to unmarried (aka "Children"), called "Lai See" (Fortune Favor). The Lai See represents wealth and prosperity. So the elders believe that giving these red packets away will trigger a movement of moola in the new year for themselves and family members.

Even though custom dictates that we should not open the red envelopes until our guests had left or when we had left our hosts, many of us kids would run to another room and sneak a peek at the goods. Usually, we got a nickel or maybe a dime. Sometimes, we found a quarter. And if the we got a Lai See from someone who really had the dough, we'd get a dollar or maybe a crisp five dollar bill. Eureka! We'd scream and holler with visions of cavity-creating candy dancing in our heads.

As I became a young adult, I actually grew wary of all the emphasis on money, wealth, and "good fortune". I felt that as a society, we've put too much of our identity and value in our material wealth, instead of intangibles like love, relationships and contentment. I felt a backlash to the notion that success primarly meant a high-paying job, a big house, and lots of money in the bank.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am not campaigning against wealth or financial success. Hey, as much as I can help it, I never want to return back to living below the poverty line as I did growing up. I enjoy the freedom of not worrying about where the next paycheck will come from. And I love being able to buy nice things for my family and myself. But, you know, I feel that if my goal in life was set on monetary success, I wouldn't be very happy.

Money cannot buy love, contentment and peace. And those are the very things I want TJ to have in life.

So, rather than having TJ greet family and friends with a monetary blessing, I've taught him to say, "Sun Leen Figh Lok!", which means "I wish you a new year of happiness!" I want to incorporate and emphasize all the other wonderful elements in my Chinese heritage this time of year, like eating gobs of candy, which represents sweetness in the new year. I want to make lanterns with TJ, representing the brightness of spring, marking the Full Moon Festival, the grand finale to a month-long New Year celebration. And of course, I want to make all the traditional yummy foods and invite F&F to chow down and have fun.

Well, when my Mom came over yesterday for the annual celebration, I was nervous about the Lai See. As TJ recited, "Sun Leen Figh Lok!", Poi-Poi ("Grandma" in Chinese) handed him the red envelope. For some odd reason, my Mom egged him on to open the envelope. "Look what Poi-Poi gave you! Open it! Open it!" I cringed, fearing the indoctrination of the Prosperity Propaganda of the Almighty-Dollar-Sign.

"Ah-Ma," I interjected. "Let's just have him open it later." To TJ, I said,"Not now. Say 'Do Je' (thank you)".

"Oh, but I want to see his reaction to opening the envelope and seeing real money in it!" pleaded Poi-Poi.

I gave in. "Okay. If you want." I felt deflated, already yielding to my mom, rather than my maternal instincts. I just didn't have the heart to take her moment away.

TJ looked at me, as if to ask for my approval. "It's okay. Go ahead, TJ. You can open it."

As TJ ripped his Lai See open, he pulled out a $20 dollar bill. OMG! $20 for a 2 year old! That's crazy! I screamed internally. My heart sank. This is not good.

"Look!!" Poi-Poi hollered. "TUNTY DOLLAS! TJ is RICH!" O, brother. Here we go, I thought. I looked intently for TJ's reaction, holding my breath.

TJ simply tossed Andrew Jackson to the side, jumped up and waved his Lai See, "Look, Mommy! It's Mickey Mouse!", shoving the red envelope in my face. The Lai See Poi-Poi gave him pictured Mickey Mouse carrying a bag of good fortune over his shoulder. TJ shouted, "It's Mickey! It's Mickey!" and ran away, wildly waving his prized possession, as Poi-Poi and I were left in the distance. And I was smiling. Just beaming with my Happy-New-Year fortune of seeing Mickey on such a special day.

Cross-posted at Silicon Valley Moms Blog where Bonnie is a contributing writer.

Diamonds May Be a Girl's Best Friend, But a Great Hair Stylist is Priceless

I couldn't stand it any longer. I tried to hold off as long as I could. I tried to accessorize, putting my hair up in a pony tail, wearing cute hair clips, and given the cold weather, wearing a different hat every other day. But, last weekend, I had to go to a fancy, schmancy wedding. And I didn't want to look "cute". That was my everyday mommy incognito: jeans, pumas, cardigans and sweatshirts. No, this wedding called for me to do my superwoman-spin-till-I'm-dizzy transformation into a 30-something Silicon Valley woman.

Every outfit I was trying on just didn't seem to work. I hated all my usual favorites and there was only 15 minutes before the babysitter was going to arrive. Aaaaggggh! I should've gotten my hair cut sooner, rather than always putting it off and putting it off .. Without a good hair cut, everything just didn't look right at all.

Out of exasperation, I took a pair of scissors and started snipping. I started out lightly, barely taking off any length. But,then, I got daring. What the heck, my hair looks terrible anyways. Might as well go for heavy fringes. Bangs are back. Just commit, I told myself.

I started channeling my hairdresser Daniel at that point. For a decade, Daniel has shaped my hair. I first met Daniel when I was in my twenties when I was fresh out of college, as the rookie at my first job working in the financial district in San Francisco. When my friends and I used to talk about what we'd buy with our first paycheck out of college, I knew right away, a "real" haircut at a cool hair salon was on my top 5 list. Along with a cool maroon tint and wine colored highlights.

My mother worked as a hair stylist, so I grew up with mom cutting my hair. It was torture because Mom would always cut such good-little-girl hair cuts. B-O-R-I-N-G. But, I wanted hot, cool, and sexy hair. I booked my first hair appointment at Vidal Sassoon in SF, and that was where I met him. The man who would be there for me, as I rode out my impressionable twenties, slid into my single thirties, flew into marriage and crashed headlong into motherhood.

Whenever life threw me a curve ball, I knew where to head. Straight to the salon chair with Daniel's expert fingers, hovering to make my life better. Snip, snip! Gone was that stupid guy that never called back. Trimming away, his scissors brought back the light in my eyes after a months of working late nights. And when I felt fat and pregnant, Daniel knew just where to clip, to bring out my cheekbones, my cheeks a little less chubby from too many IN-n-Out burgers I had as a "snack".

But, now as a mom, getting a haircut seems to just migrate down my list of to do's. On top of that, I started my own business, working just about every night and every weekend. Everyday, my checklist gets longer and a call to Daniel drops lower each day, just like the Dow during election year. Oh well, I tell myself. What would you rather have: a cool hair cut or an extra morning to blog or catch up on time with family or girlfriends?

Well, as I was cutting away with just a few minutes left before the babysitter arrived, I was definitely wishing I had chosen the haircut. OMG! My hair looks like a freakin' disaster! AAAAAAHHHH! I screamed in terror. I can't believe this is happening. I should've just left it like it was. Help!! My stint in just trimming a few strands turned into a crazy hack job, getting worse by the minute.

An hour and a half later, with my hair loaded up with gel, I quickly shook the bride and groom's hand, hoping I can snag a quick exit. Before I could head out, a friend called out, "Bonnie! Bonnie! Wait, aren't you going to stay for the group photos?" Gulp. Oh, no!

Needless to say, I had to chalk the day up as A BAD DAY, never to be repeated again. Even my husband could tell I was in SOS mode. "Honey, go to the city and get your hair done. I'll watch TJ the whole afternoon. Go, make an appointment!"

Against rain and high winds, I drove to the city the following weekend. I happily circled around for a parking space and hugged Daniel like he was my long lost friend. Daniel was just the perfect friend. He didn't even make one negative comment about my crazy cut. And even said, "I like it, kinda Audrey Hepburn like."

Daniel is THE sweetest, because this is the guy that was featured on E! Channel's "Fashion Emergency" when he was Creative Director at Architects and Heroes Salon and Gallery. He is a gem because he so friendly, kind, and so not-snooty. And just as importantly, he can cut hair. His trademark is creating "beautiful hairstyle that makes people want to reach out and touch it."

Daniel is now at the Red Chair Salon on Union Street in San Francisco. My friends think I'm crazy for going all the way to the city to get my hair cut. But, 45 minutes later in the chair with Daniel, Voila! My hair is resurrected back from the dead. And girlfriend, you can't pay to get that done without a great hair stylist. Priceless.

Cross-posted at Silicon Valley Mom Blog, where Bonnie is a contributing writer.