Letters to My Daughter, December 2018

Hello, poffertjes,

So, the last month of 2018.

This year, I had a few days vacation left, and I decided to take them during the Christmas holiday season. I was so excited about it because I got to spend the whole one week with you, and the last few days of the holiday with papa too.

We explored the city, tried several bakeries we've never been to, we ate, we baked, we binged watch, we cuddled, we went shopping - and someone "accidentally" got her first DrM boots. :)

Then we took a trip to Philadelphia. For the second time, we visited the Reading Terminal Market, our favorite place to stuff our face and tummy. We stood for literally an hour in cold weather to try Max's cheesesteak.

We also visited the Eastern State Penitentiary Historic Site. Yeah, kinda an unusual place to visit during the holiday, but I think we could agree that it was a time well spent and that we learned a lot of stories from this eery but beautiful premise.

Another thing that made my heart full is that I was able to support you in upgrading your kitchen equipment and tools. Finally, you got a new, shiny, yellow standing mixer, a new yellow apron to match and to replace the first apron that you've outgrown, a set of a pasta maker, and a real rolling pin! Now, you don't have excuses not to bake more pies!

I know I said that Christmas is supposed to be a time for reflection, and not to indulge in consumerism. But I couldn't help to pamper you. Your happy, radiant face wept away my tiredness. It's all worth it, poffertjes.

Here's to many more moons of happiness, health, wellness, adventure, baking, and shopping!

bun-bun

Letters to My Daughter, November 2018

My dearest lollipop,

13!

Welcome to an awkward age, where the children section no longer fits and the adult section looks too frumpy. The age when you have to pay full price. Yep!

You know, when you were still a tiny dumpling, I often wondered what kind of personality you would develop as you grew up. What kind of person you'd become? What would interest you?

I remembered when you were in 5th grade and there was a secret Santa or a gift swap event at school. You didn't tell me about this until weeks after it had happened. And I asked, "What did you give?"

You said you collected some leftover beads you could find from your jewelry making kit, added some ribbons, and put them in a plastic bag. I felt embarrassed by that gift because I didn't think it was a decent gift.

I started raising my voice and getting angry at you. Of course, you cried.

I asked, "Why did you do that? Why didn't you tell me so we can pick a decent gift?"

You simply said, "Because I didn't want to bother you."

And that answer stabbed me right in the heart. You were trying to demonstrate your independence. Instead of encouraging it, I shut it down. It crushed my heart, and I learned a valuable lesson here.

Most recently, you were working on a school project. I don't remember what exactly, but I remembered that there were parts that you struggled a bit. So I said, "You can always ask me for help, you know."

And you said, "I know. But I also want to know how far I can accomplish if I am doing this myself."

I was speechless.

Over the past 13 years, you have definitely grown into an independent, responsible person.

You have also grown into a sensitive person who can read between the lines. You have become a person who doesn't listen only with her ears, but also with her eyes and heart.

A proof? You bought me a matcha brioche after you sensed a sad tone in my text. I didn't say my feeling explicitly in that text, but you sensed it and decided to do something about it.

This is the kind of person you have become. You are resilience, brilliant, funny, sensitive, independent, and humble.

I couldn't ask for a better daughter or best friend.

Enjoy 13 my lollipop!

For you, a thousand more.

Bunda

Letters to My Daughter, September 2018

Dear my red bean bun,

You know, when you were still dancing in that pink leotard and tutu, I watched the older girls enrolled in more than three dance classes. And I asked myself, why? Why do you want to be in that so many classes? Why would I pay for hundreds of dollars of monthly tuition fee, costumes, as well as jazz and tap shoes

I vowed to myself to not register you to more than two classes. Two classes are the max.

Here you are, enrolled in five dance classes.

What happened?

I'd like to think that I don't pay for dance classes. Instead,

• I pay for those moments when you feel like quitting, but you don't.

• I pay for the opportunity that you have terrific instructors that will teach you that dance is not just about movement but also about discipline, commitment, hard work, and life. (Don't check out, kiddo!)

• I pay for you to learn to take care of your body.

• I pay for the opportunity for you to learn about team work and to be a supportive, kind and respectful team member.

• I pay for you to learn to persevere, when you struggle to master a step, but still determined to do your BEST next time.

• I pay for my girl to learn to make and accomplish goals.

• I pay for my daughter to learn that it takes hours and hours of hard work and practice to be good at what you do, and that success does not happen overnight.

• I pay so that my daughter can do what she loves instead of spend hours in front of a screen.

• I pay for the opportunities that dance provides you to develop attributes and skills that will serve you well throughout your life.

I can't wait to see you on stage next year!

XOXO

bund2

Letter to My Daughter, April 2018

My donut,

I will always remember the day when you said that you see me as your best friend. 

To me, that is one of my significant accomplishment as a parent. Because as a parent, I have decided not to position myself as a parent since the very beginning. 

I do not want you to be scared of me. I do not want you to see me as more superior than you. I do not want you to see me as a person who you need to obey and that everything I do is right. 

I want you to see us as equal. I want us to share, to support each other, to push and to challenge each other. 

So when you said that I am your best friend and that you feel you can share anything with me, I took that as the highest compliment. I am happy that we can create an open and honest communication. Thank you for sharing your stories and for trusting me with your secrets. Thank you for always lending me your ears and for sharing your honest opinion.

I do too have a best friend!

Your minion

Letter to My Daughter, March 2018

My mung bean,

Remember when we "argue" when we say I love you more? None of us want to love each other more than the other. We want to show that we have bigger love than the other. 

I found this poem below that sums up how I feel when I say I love you more. 

I don’t mean that I love you more than you love me.

I mean that I love you…

More than all the obstacles life will put in front of us.

More than the distance between us.

More than the sum of the hardships we will bear.

More than the lure of any other life.

More than any fight we could have.

More than anything that could tear us apart.

I don’t just love you enough to make it through…

I love you more.

Bund2

Letter to My Daughter, February 2018

My dumpling, 

I was lying down on our bed last night, and I smiled when you snuggled your legs underneath mine. 

I was thinking about my feeling last night. I felt upset, sad, confused, tired, but at the same time, I also felt grateful and blessed. I have said this before, but I will never be tired of saying this. 

I am grateful for having you, and I am blessed to have you. I feel that God has done me a major favor and given me the most precious gift when He infused a life inside me. You are healthy, beautiful, strong, and smart. You have common sense and good judgment, and you also have a big heart. 

In the midst of this chaotic life, you are my reminder that I have something precious that I can always call mine. 

When the days are hard, and I thought the world doesn't treat me fair, you are a reminder how much blessings I have received in my life. 

When my days have a rainbow, you are the first person I would like to call. 

You understand me. 

I don't have to finish my sentences. 

I don't have to struggle trying to explain to you about how I feel or what I think. 

You understand me.

You complete me. 

Oceans of love,

Wonton

Letters to My Daughter, December 2017

Dear Kimchi,

We made it to the end of this year. I believe there are many valuable things we have encountered and learned this year. I think 2017 is better than 2016. 

If I could pick a word to represent 2017, it would be Resilience. 

I believe the Hunter test and the series of tests and interviews for Prep for Prep and BSGE helped you acquire new skills and perspective to help prep you for your next journey. All these tests and interviews were not an easy task. I couldn't imagine myself having had to do this when I was your age. When I accompanied you to these tests, I watched your tiny figure disappeared into doors, and then I let a long sigh. I admire you for being brave and for wanting to try out. Not because you wanted to show off, but because you believed in getting a good education. Many times I was wondering whose wise kid I have raised! 

Sometimes I feel that you were just being thrown into a pool and asked to learn to swim at that moment. And I firmly believe you managed that challenge very well. 

You are a resilient warrior! 

Love,

Bimbimbap

Letters to My Daughter, November 2017

The other day you said that you see me as your best friend. Personally, that is the highest compliment I have ever received. 

For you to see and treat me as someone you can trust and to speak with is an achievement that I do not take lightly.

Yes, I make and implement rules, and I am sure that as a mother, I can be a pain. But I am glad that you see me beyond that. I am thrilled that we have a strong bond and connection, and it only grows stronger with the time. 

You are 12 now, dumpling. 

I am thankful that you live in this era. An era when people started to recognize and listen more to the voices of women and girls. A period when doors to more opportunities for women and girls begin to open wider, and they can be who they aspire to be. 

The world is probably more chaotic than ever before, and we have not broken the glass ceiling, yet. But, if I look back to when I was your age, we have come pretty far.

I am happy that you have the opportunities that I did not have back then. You get to share and contribute your voice, opinion, and ideas. And you learned over time that your voice and opinion matter. 

With abundant access to books and information, you have an extensive opportunity to equip yourself with a mighty weapon - knowledge.

More and more people in the society are more receptive to one's individuality and choices. You can be who you want to be, be with who you want to be, and this is powerful.

I hope you will be able to see all of these opportunities that lay ahead of you and without hesitant taking full benefits of those. Rather than shying away, use your uniqueness and wealth of knowledge as your strength. 

I support you, dumpling and I believe in you!

Letters to My Daughter, October 2017

My dearest kimchi,

I attended several junior varsity volleyball games where you played, and I watched you with delight. 

You did the unexpected, the unthinkable. Like scoring four serves in a row or returning a ball that was difficult to maneuver. Hello, fast legs and muscle! 

You see...you maybe didn't know or realize it at first. But, you have it in you. You have the power to do remarkable things, the unthinkable things. You just have to remain calm and believe it. 

Do not think otherwise. 

Set your mind to your goals, focus, and you will get there. 

You are the little engine that could! 

XOXO,

Bimbimbap

Letters to My Daughter, September 2017

My dearest pickle,

September is here, and it means a new academic year!

You will be going to a new school this year. Even further than your previous school in Astoria. You will be a Manhattanite! How did you feel about that?

You had wanted to go to this school since you were in sixth grade but I decided that it was too much for you to wake up very early and get home late when you were only in sixth grade. I understand and support your passion for learning, but I also do not want to make going to school to stressful that it becomes a burden. 

We talked about the fact that you would have to wake up at 5:40 AM. We talked about the possibility that you may have to stay up late if you have plenty of homework. We discussed commuting during winter. I had worries about all these. You said, "I have to make a sacrifice if I want to have a good education." Dang! What else could I say? Why would I say no to the excitement on your face about going to this new school? Your happiness is my happiness. 

It was a busy start - choosing after-school programs, electives, signing you up for the new grading tool, figuring out the dynamic of the school, getting yourself familiar with the new schedule, and getting to know your new classmates and teachers. But I believe, the best lessons you learned so far are:

1. Being admitted to the volleyball junior varsity team. You didn't think you would make it, but you did. The coach said that he was looking for students who show efforts to learn and progress. So I guess you did. :)

2. It is OK to share your thoughts and interest. You were placed in Women and History elective. Although this was one of your choices, you wanted to do Jazz Band and play trumpet again. I suggested you talk to Mr. Fisher, which you did. Look who is the Jazz Band team now?

3. Taking responsibility for your actions. Shits happen. This time you lost your MTA card, one week after the school started. I am sorry that I got upset. Soon after we got home, you emailed Donna about the incident, who later said how impressed she was with what you did because you showed that you took responsibility.

As for me? I learned to start letting you go. Because, although I still worry like s*#!t, I trust that you will be fine. 

I love you to pieces, pickle!
xoxo
Your dill