Photos

I guess we've been a bit busy, and bit tired, and a bit lazy. And my mom has been asking me for photos.

Until about 8 months, Aidan was just a happy baby. He was always smiling and he cried a bit when he got tired. End of story.
Now, he's a lot more than that. He crawls all over the place. He stands up and cruises along furniture. He wants to get into everything. He wants to be picked up. He wants this and he wants that. Basically, he has joined the ranks of his sibling and became noisy, disgruntled, and sometimes happy kid. So that's why I've been busy.

We made gingerbread house with some friends yesterday. They kept picking on the candies and eating them. The kids were all high on sugar and excitement. At the end Terran and Sisi decided to just bite into the darn thing. Gotta say, all those hours of making models in college have definitely paid off. Our house was solid and stable even with lots of dead and live loads on the roof with snow, candies, and fingers and all:



Brothers:

My Native American Kids for Thanksgiving:

Me and my kids on my birthday. I thought Pat went to buy a cake for me. He came home with chocolate cake mix and heavy cream. I actually had to put together my own cake....:

Baby Aidan:


Having snack. Aidan definitely wants to be a part of the group now.

Thoughts on immigration

My friend and I are working on a simple design competition. (I think I'll blog about my friend later) It's about immigration.
When we started working on this, and when I started thinking about this topic, people like my husband's greatx4 grandparents came to mind. How they came to this country and what they might have gone through. This thought could be interesting if I knew anything about them. But I don't. I don't really personally know that many immigrants - except for myself, of course - duh! And so I began to think about my story. And my own process.

I remember my first flight over. I was 18 and was on my way to go to college in another country. My mom was away and wasn't even there to see me off at the airport. It was just my dad and me. On our way to the airport, he said,
"This is our last day together and the last time that you are going to be living with me."
I said,
"Why? Really? Why?"
"You'll come back from time to time to visit me but you'll never live with me again."
I was shocked by this statement. And obviously, a little confused.
"Can't I come back to live with you after I graduate?"
"No; you'll have your own life and your own future and you won't come home."

I thought about our conversation on my 8 hour flight to San Francisco. It made me cry for most of those 8 hours. I was so sad and I felt so lonely that I would no longer be part of the family that I came from. I was upset that I had gained independence; something that I never really craved. I was already missing my dad and I just wanted to go home. I was sad and I was afraid of the unknown. I just wanted to be his kid again....

Of course, all this changed as soon as I got to school and saw the amazing buildings scattered amongst green open space. I was inspired immediately and thought myself so lucky that I'd be able to learn in that beautiful environment. I couldn't wait for my new life to begin!

(to be continued.... my husband is interrupting me....)