Broken Traditions

This past holiday season, Noah reminded me how important tradition is.

I did not realize I had been breaking so many traditions until Noah pointed it out the morning of NYE.

Apparently, I had been upsetting him since the week before Christmas when I did not put a star on top of our Christmas tree. I went for a different tree this year because the horse-lover in me couldn't resist these horse bag charms.

So I put them on our tree.

When Noah asked for a star, I put a yellow horse at the top of our tree.

He groaned & put his palm on his forehead, but I didn't realize he was serious about disliking the non-star trimming.

Then the morning of NYE, his dad told him that there might not be a fountain at fireworks this year because fireworks weren't as readily available this year.

The last straw was when he realized he didn't have any polka-dotted clothes and, trying to comfort him, I said, "It's okay. I don't have anything polka-dotted either". That's when he burst out, "We're breaking so many rules! No star on the Christmas tree, no fountain, no polka dots!"

And so I scrambled to DIY bowties & a bow out of fabric tape a few hours before midnight to keep at least one tradition alive for Noah.

Noah reminded me that family traditions are treasured heirlooms you pass on to your children so they can pass them on to their children. They are meaningful experiences that will become precious memories they will look back on when they're all grown up.

His dad & I broke the news about our amicable separation about a year ago. I guess, as Susan Lieberman said, "Family traditions help us define who we are; they provide something steady, reliable and safe in a confusing world." And I guess Noah needed that. 

I am so glad, for my kids' sake, that despite our now 8-year-long separation, we still make it a point to spend special occasions together.

Our family photo is a tradition that we will always, always keep.

Photos are my own & from acupofjo. 

Click here for previous posts on Christmas, New Year, horses.

dear car manufacturers

I really appreciate that you've started to think about moms' needs with child-lock on doors & car trunks that open with a push of a button for when both of mom's arms are filled with grocery bags and the baby.

I am also glad that you have also started to think about needs of women in general (mom or non-mom) when you put a light on the carshade mirror. I was ecstatic when one of you (Subaru) has even allowed women to say goodbye to soiled pant legs with the Forester doors that open cleanly (It's why I bought mine!). 

But there is one basic woman driver need you have not addressed: a place for our purse. 

You've installed places for coins, cups, sunnies and phones. But there remains to be no space for our purse. 

Sure, when we're alone in the car, we can put it on the front passenger seat. But when all seats are filled, our purse gets lodged in the middle of the front seats - on the center console. And as you try to make the console modern-looking with a curvier or slimmer design, our purse ends up falling to the front or back with every step on the brake or gas pedal.

And because we multi-task in the car (chances are, we just used that light on the carshade mirror to put on makeup), our purses are usually open in the car so a stop or go at the traffic light could result in the contents of our bag spilling out onto the floor. 

You have to agree that "What's in your bag?" flatlays are better found on Instagram or magazines and NOT on our car floor.

Not to mention the possible damage this may do to precious purses when they tumble & turn inside the car. Now I can't help wish my purse had its own seat & special seatbelt!

Oh and I don't mean this place and seatbelt for my purse! If I'm worried about the damage tumbling & turning INSIDE the car will do, imagine how horrified I will be if my purse was OUTSIDE the car, under the sun or the rain. No, not like this, please.

Plus, we need our purses within easy reach so we can easily hand our kids a wet wipe when they spill something at the backseat or pull out the oddest-but-surprisingly-useful things inside a woman's purse like playing cards, a teabag or a cookie for when you're hungry in heavy traffic.

So dear car manufacturers, could I please ask you to design a car with a special place for a woman's purse? If you do, you will surely have a special place in every woman-driver's heart!

Photos from here and annnnniegirl.

Click here for previous posts from the Dear... series.

when personalized isn't personalized

For a couple of Christmases now, I've been giving personalized gifts. I started with personalized gift tags. Then the following year, I gave away personalized keychains and wrapping paper. This year, I gave away personalized wristlets, bookmarks, mouse pads & cord organizers.

Then yesterday, in a group chat with my friends, my friend Tam said she was roasting a prime rib for Noche Buena and that she's using the meat thermometer that my other friend Liam gave her. 

And it dawned on me that personalizing generic things like keychains & wristlets isn't truly a personalized gift. I realized that printing or hot-stamping someone's name or initials onto everyday items has duped me into thinking I was giving my friends something special for Christmas.  

But a truly personalized gift is something you carefully choose for a specific person. It is a gift you give to only one - not all - of your friends because each person has his own unique interests and personality. It is giving a meat thermometer to your friend who roasts prime rib for Noche Buena. Or a Where's the Wookiee? book to a Where's Waldo and Star Wars fan. Or Flight 001's Spacepak pouch with separate clean & laundry compartments for your OC friend who loves to travel. Or a gym bag filled with a dri-fit shirt, Jordan shorts, compression pants, sports socks & a towel for your basketball-addicted friend. Or giving your osteoporosis-laden grandmother, who just sits all day, a digital frame filled with photos of her children & grandchildren.

So next Christmas, I promise to try harder to give meaningful, well-thought-out, carefully-chosen -- truly personalized -- gifts to the people most dear to me.

Photos are my own.

oops, my neurosis is showing...

Like I told you here, I looove the IG account @averageparentproblems. But the black header & footer that @mommyshorts uses on @averageparentproblems just didn't go with the natural lighting & light color palette with touches of pastel or bright pinks of the @insta2yearold sceenshots in my post. 

So in this post, I'm sharing some of @averageparentproblems' hilarious posts that didn't make the cut in my original blogpost. 

There are other even funnier posts, but I could only bring myself to include those with black accents in the photos to go with the standard black header & footer. 

I couldn't pick posts with natural, diffused lighting because I personally feel they don't go with a black frame.

I picked photos that probably used fluorescent, halogen or incandescent lighting so the shadows go with the black frame (This is probably why @mommyshorts picked that black frame... because these harsh lights are common at home where those average parent problems usually take place... especially since the photos are crowd-sourced). 

Yes, my neurosis is showing again. Gah!

Photos are screenshots of @averageparentproblems' IG posts.

Click here for the of-dots-&-things version of this post. Click here for previous posts from the Oops, My Neurosis Is Showing... series.

how styling makes a difference

I spotted this jacket from outside Zara while walking to an off-site meeting. Because this was how it was styled...

... I thought, "Who would want that jacket with that old-fashioned notch collar?!"

But there was something about the jacket that I couldn't shake. Then it hit me: I purchased the exact same jacket a few weeks ago! Because the collar wasn't folded, it looked twenty million notches younger & hipper than the dated notch collar I saw from outside Zara. 

It's amazing what the right styling can do! 

Oh, and if there are any Zara folks reading this, don't worry. This jacket was styled right the next time I visited that branch. 

Photos are my own and from Zara.com. 

oops, my neurosis is showing...

When I'm in line at the elevator and I watch the throng of people in line before me go into the elevator, I tend to think of that old game Tetris. I imagine myself arranging the people so there wouldn't be wasted spaces inside the elevator... so I could get in front of the line faster.

But when I'm inside the elevator with a different throng of people, I shudder at the idea of a perfect Tetris formation. 

Because that would mean we'd fit so well, the strangers around me would be touching me. Ugh! (And I say "ugh" because I've been jammed against sweaty strangers in the past). 

When I'm inside the elevator, I'd prefer to be in a game of Battleship than Tetris. Do you remember Battleship? Each ship stays in its own square of the grid. No two ships can occupy the same square. Oh, how I wish that could be so in the elevator at my office. I would love for the people riding up with me to be at an appropriate distance from me since everyone needs to be alone in each square of the Battleship -er, elevator, grid!

Hey, since I'm wishing anyway, might as well wish I were Pacman inside the elevator chomping away all the pellets and ghosts so I'd end up alone in the elevator to my floor. 

Hmmm, actually, might be better for the elevator to be a Space Invaders game so I don't need to ingest (Remember, I didn't even want to touch) those strangers! 

Shooting them from afar would be way better.

Yes, I have the craziest thoughts while in the looong line at my office building's elevator. Gah, my neurosis is showing again!

Photos are from here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here. 

Click here for previous posts from the Oops, My Neurosis Is Showing... series. 

dear person going to the 16th floor

Since our elevator serves only floors 16 to 24, the 16th floor is our first stop. So I would really appreciate it if you wouldn't position yourself at the very back of our cramped elevator. 

I do welcome the momentary release from the tight squashed situation here, as everyone in the rows in front of you steps out onto the 16th floor just to let you out - and then files back in after you've gone.  

Because I'm itching for the more permanent release from the cramped elevator situation by getting to my floor, I'd really prefer to make the stops before mine as short and sweet as possible. And 10 people filing out of the elevator to your no-matter-how-sweet "excuse me" (to get us out of your way) makes the stop at your floor long and bitter.

So, dear person getting off on the 16th floor, please don't position yourself at the very back of the elevator. If you happen to be the first one in the elevator, please stay to the side, by the elevator buttons, so you can easily slip out at the first stop. 

Photo from annniegirl. 

Click here for previous posts from the Dear... series. Click here for previous posts on my elevator situation at my new office.