On the cliff

The strong wind blows, the heavy rain pours over me.
The wind pushes me away, the rain strikes me hard, I can't see a thing.
I hear loud voice, how far can you last in this nasty weather? Huh? You can't survive, you will fall.

I try to hang on the cliff, I don't see any safe grounds around me.
I don't know how far I can hang in here.
The feeble branch is shaking, it's not going to last any longer.

I close my eyes.
The flesh tearing wind doesn't stop, the icy cold rain keeps pouring.
My only branch is already worn out, I can't depend on it any more.

There's nothing I can do.
I tried to hang on, I did my best to stay alive, but if this is the end, I can't resist.
Everything comes and goes, every single thing has the beginning and the end.
It will be foolish to fight against the end of nature.

I still dream of two beautiful lovers.
I still dream of happy moments on St. Denis.
I still remember the peaceful sound on Mont Royal.
I hoped we could do this again with new life.

I open my eyes, staring at this branch, holding tight with my both hands.
I hear strong voice in me, you are a survivor, you will not give up. 

This is a crazy woman talking.

   I feel being captured in the suffocating bubble right now.

   I don't feel what I usually feel; the feeling of strong guts and audacity. 

   I can't feel any motivation in my heart. 

   I am wandering in my house without a purpose; just circling and cycling.

   Strangely, I found myself sitting in front of my small laptop. As if this was my destination. 

Before I start a first sentence, I stopped writing for a second. I had to remind myself - I'd better be cautious using Articles such as A or The in the sentences. And I laugh myself and say, "How many years did I study English Grammar in the school years? And still I don't get it right? What a waste of studying and time! This is why I'm not so proud of telling myself majored in English Language and Literature! Because I am not good at it."

   I have nothing to brag about, I've got no fancy family backgrounds, in fact, rather shabby and nasty. I've got  no strong connections with, so-called, powerful people, and I didn't graduate the prestigious schools. I really don't have anything to show off. 

   It was one day, I decided to see my miserable life differently. Since nobody would care what I think, I would do what I really want to do. I decided not to pay attention of other's jugmental harsh words and behaviors toward me.

   Well, you don't live my life, so why do you care? I'm not gonna blame you although I fail in this game, so just leave me alone. 

   I guess that was a drastic perspective changes for a 19-year-old girl who lived in South Korea, in a small city called Mok-po with lots of looking down eyes on her; from dozens of relatives, Dad's friends whom I also called "Uncle", Mom's friends whom I also called "Aunt", and these people told me what life I should live whenever they had a chance to sit with me. I was getting really annoyed by their empty words, I really doubted their worries and I still do.

   I need to take times to describe how I spent these years because it was breath choking experience. I really don't know how I managed to lay low of myself and planned higher jump. This is my story so I believe I should know, but why it's so scary to go back those time. I know it's better to forget the unpleasant memories for my sanity. On the other hand, I believe this may be the reason what I am born to be, to write what had happened in a world that most people don't know. 

   All of my choices after graduating high school came from my heart. Especially when I made up mind to go to Canada for 1 year. Some might say I was bold following a heart than a head. It is true- it was the scary period of my life. There were thousands of introspection inside of me. I had so many doubts that seemed to break my skull. I looked outside the window whenever I had a moment, either it was a thick dirty plastic window in a public bus or a size of handbag window over the toilet. I wished I could fly high. 

   Looking back, my habit of sitting close to the window and looking outside might started from here. Well, my second thought, I'm wrong. It started earlier than this period. The point of my story of the night is I need to write, and I want to write. But it's really hard to start. 

Morning conversation

   I wanted to make this story short in a poem style, but as I write it got longer and out of structure.
   At this point, I don't care, but still I'd like to call it a poem anyway. Because I feel like writing a poem.
  
   My husband asked me on our way to his office, "You look so mad at something. What's wrong?"
   I answered as if I got an electric shock, "Oh, do I look upset? No, I was ... in deep thinking."

   And, I added, "Well, in fact, I was thinking about my memoir feedback last night. Have you ever revisited the same conversations that you had in the past, and you know you could say something else than what you said in real? I just feel like that. I wanted to say things which matters the most, but I just didn't/ couldn't. And I don't know why. I was captured by details and I felt sort of swept away by strong current of conversation of group of people. There was a moment where I wanted to take time to explain things they had asked me, but I felt uncomfortable and invisible pressure which made me hurry to answer. I just don't like to be rushed by others in general, you know."

   My husband nodded his head with deep understanding of what I just said. "Yes, I know exactly what you are talking about. I understand how you feel, honey. But cheer up, you've got a beautiful day!"

   We were in front of his office door already, and I managed to smile at him.
   He gave me a kiss on my cheek, and to our daughter in a back seat as well.

   "Let's talk when I come home, ok?" And he closed car door.

   Now, I sit on driver seat, and drove to SL's class. She was happy as usual. For a moment, I wished to be like her being cheerful regardless what circumstances laid upon. I opened my heart and listened to her humming and monologuing which warmed inside the car.

   It's still raining, at this precise moment - April, 27, 2011 at 11: 02 A.M
Soon, I gotta pick up my daughter and our day will bounce and dance and run. Whatever it will be, I'm still alive and I'd better be enjoying this day.

Five for Fighting - Superman

This song gives me a soft lift to keep my spirit bright.

All the motivation was gone, I didn't know what I was supposed to do,

and I listen this song, it gives me a gentle strength.

It's not easy to be me...

This sentence echoes in my head but I like to hear it again and again.

I'm still looking for something inside of me...

Yes, that's what I've been doing since the beginning of this journey.

It's tiring, it's exhausting, but I know I won't give up. I can't give up.

I'm my own kind of hero but it's not easy.

I felt like crying but I don't want to show my tears.

It's not easy to be me...

Never ending test

  I've been living up to someone else's expectation most of my life. It is never ending test and it's exhausting. Once I believe I've reached certain point where I can finally relax and take a moment, the judges say otherwise.
   Well, well, well. Is this all you can do? Is this your best? 
I didn't know how to react when I was little whenever I faced harsh criticism. It wasn't fair for me since I didn't know what was good enough. I was told if I weren't number one, I was useless. All my childhood I try to meet their expectations and now I realize what the others do to me. Who are the others? Who do you think they are?
Parents? Relatives? School? Society? Perhaps all of them.

   I try to understand why I was the main target of all kinds of criticism since I was little. I'm merely trying to find a peace from the past, but I only find that is the hardest thing to do. I try to see all different angles of the facts, but the more I try to see positive sides, I only find the uncured wound deep in my heart.
   My fast beating heart proves all of these, I guess. I don't know when I would finally come to see a peace in me.

   I try to smile, I try to forget, I try to act as if nothing happened. I can conceal of everything and act perfect normal as if I have nothing to hide. I dress up with floral chiffon blouse, matching skinny jean along with few jewelry around my neck and ear robe. I sit, my legs crossed, holding a cup of coffee and gazing out of the window. I have dreamy eyes, I gaze further and further. I can't wait to see the end of my life.
   (Funny..how easily it came out from my head? Did I say I can't wait to see the end of my life? Really?)

   But that's true. I am obsessed about my next chapter. It's been a while I felt like my life itself is a book. In a book, there are lots of chapters. Everything has a beginning and ending.
   I'm a book, and I'm a writer. I see hundreds of pages that are waiting for me to finalize this book.

   The fact is I'm only 29 years old and I haven't lived much, yet I've got many stories to tell. At the beginning, I was scared to start. Precisely I didn't know where to start. How do I dare to write a story in English? I come from South Korea. English is school subject, not a communicational tool. It's been only few years that I've been speaking English as a regular basis. I went to OZ, Canada, merely to learn more English. I started to chat with my husband because I needed someone to practice English.
   Now, do I care what others would think of me? I try not to. I've suffered enough from others' judgement. The most ridiculous thing I have found is the people who harshly judged me and badgered me don't even know who they are. Their authoritative words and hypocritical attitude were just for covering their insecurity and immaturity. I'm not perfect and so are they.
  

   I strongly believe I'm in a mission of something. I haven't quite figured out yet. One second I grab the idea, but then next second, I'm lost. I don't know what was the strength to carry me, to bring me here.
   What do I believe in? What is the motive in my life? What is the main core?

   Long time ago, I've reached some kind of understanding, which was when I'm not sure what I really want, I try to delete one by one what I don't want. I'm certain that pure financial gain is not my purpose of life. I know hypocrisy isn't my purpose either. I don't believe in faking. I'd rather being alone than getting along with bunch of fakers. I'd rather meeting people who's looking for something they can't grab, can't see, can't touch. I guess those are much like metaphysical stuff. But I can't help. I believe in things that I can't see.
   Friendship, strong bond between family members, unbreakable trust between couples, life long tenderly mother's love for her children, yeah.. love.
   These are so common around us but I don't know why we don't talk more about it. Perhaps because it's been with us from the beginning, maybe its value has gone out of the window. Drama, breakup, failure, arguments, fight, violence, battles - these gets easier attention than tender, soft loving care.
   It's true destroying is easier than building. Building takes a lot of effort, help and time.

   I don't know. I just want to understand better. I want to smile from my heart, not to show others to convince them I'm happy. I just want to take a moment for myself once in a while. I want to breathe. I want to live my given life.

4. 19. 2011 - Fatalities alive!

   The advertisements had shown everywhere before this game was released. From Time-Square at New York city to the big billboard sign on the corner of our house; Western/Diversey/Elston. When I saw this glowing billboard, my heart felt like popping out. The amazing two characters were on the left and right with red/blue color contrasted. The uprising dragon in the middle, embedded in circle as it was supposed to be a main logo of the game.

   To me, it wasn't a regular advertisement. It will never be. It can not be the same game as it is shown on the isle of Game Stop. Whenever I look at the characters in this game, I see indescribable passion of one particular person. He believes he is born to create. He once told me his mission of life was/is creating an art to this world. When I heard his faithful determination, at first I was extremely jealous. I couldn't believe he chose his art before his own family. His wife and new-born baby followed him to new country. To tell the truth, I felt abandoned.
   Come on! Give me a break! Are you serious? What am I supposed to do?   
I have to admit I hated his work- all of his creations, all his characters, because these were taking him away from me.

   Many hours of work he never complained. He was sitting on his chair more than 6 hours in a row, perhaps more. Sometimes he forgot to go to toilet. Whenever he was in creating mood, he seemed to live in a different world. He would  face on his four computer screens including Cintiq tablet every night. He was obsessed and still he is. 

   I've known him since we met on ICQ in 2002. He was working as a freelancer at night, and I was a third-grade students at Chosun University, studying English literature but didn't know what it was all about. I was a wanderer and he was a listener. We chatted every day, every night. Whenever I had down-time, he was there  listening to me. He was faithful then, and still he is. He was passionate, and still he is.
   More than one year of chatting in online, I was brave enough to come to his country. I studied in ESL course at Concordia University in Montreal, worked as a waitress at Sushi restaurant for part-time. Although we weren't married yet, he was very serious about our relationship. He didn't fool anyone and he still doesn't. He was a hard worker and still he is. He had strong vision of his life. I always admired his perfection and ambition.

   It's been close to a decade that I've been watching him. My view of him is very up-close and personal. He might not enjoy what I'm writing about him. He is very quiet person and doesn't want to stand in front of others.

   Tonight, there was a big party for the employee of this game. The company had planned a big ceremony at downtown for the hard workers, and congratulated this game's optimistic prospect. All these hard work finally paid off. Regardless what had happened inside the team, all of the team members succeeded delivering a fantastic game to the world.
   But I have to mention very carefully that there was a sneaky, rotten apple who spoiled the barrel during the process. I can't explain how much I hated him although I had never met him. I really wished this apple would be thrown out at the end of the project. Well, he must have played inside politics pretty well. I guess I have to be patient until he traps in his own net. If the virtue is still alive, sooner or later I'll see his downfall.

   At this precise moment, lots of team members would get drunken, dance with loud music, laugh, and shout. I wish all of them have a wonderful time, because they deserve it. I'm not disappointed any more by not being there. Yes, I really wished to go but it wasn't up to me.
   A man who created top quality characters didn't want to join the party. Somehow he believed this wasn't his style. I couldn't force him to be a different person, because I like him as he is. Now, he's still sitting on his chair, facing on his computer screens, listening funny Youtube videos, and creating his own character.

   I really wanted to tell him how I feel.
   He wouldn't imagine how much I am proud of him.
   I can't explain how much I appreciate his art work.
   His superb characters in this game carries on his passion, dedication and his life.

   He used to tell me, "once I start thinking of myself being reached top, I would go downhill immediately. I still see there are so many things to learn, so many parts that I could improve, I don't see the end. I can't be satisfied here, because I'm not there yet."

   It's not easy being a wife of game character graphic artist. But then what else is easy? I don't know many things in this world, but I know one thing; Heaven helps those who help themselves. I believed in it strongly and I still do.

   Now, I see Sub-Zero VS. Scorpion fight! Their fatalities are ass-kicking! :)

  

  

  
  

Lyrics - Bad Day by Daniel Powter

This song is beautiful.

A dinner at Beneteau's family

   You can't help yourself but shaking your hip as soon as you enter Beneteau's family. Under the roof of this house a music of Hey soul sister by Train swirls every corner. A 29-year-old mom and 3 and 1/2 old girl dancing in the living room floor, feeling the rhythm of the music. A pure laughter echoes in the house. The smell of chicken breast which is marinated in Middle east spices with Olive oil. An asparagus stir fried, a spring salad with homemade salad dressing is ready on the kitchen table.
   A wife awaits for her husband, he told her he would be home by 7:30. She decides to open the wine bottle. She knows with one glass of wine will change her mood. She just feels like letting it go. As soon as a wine glass is full, her disappointed feeling replaces exciting one. One sip, two sip, she empties it and asks her daughter, " do you wanna dance?"
   This two girls are dancing and dancing, feeling rhythm of music. A mom forgets what worries her. Is it because of wine? or music? or dancing with her daughter?
   Although she's spinning and turning on the floor, she can't help but looking at time. It's close to 7:30. Her ear tilts to the front door. Soon he will open the door. she hears footsteps, and she can finally relax and be happy.

   He had to drop by Jewel-Osco because his daughter called him and asked him to buy her a pack of strawberries. She's happy when her husband carries grocery bags after his work. She knows her husband cares for his family. He enters the front door and saying, "Wow! It's nice to be home. I missed being home with my wife and daughter."

   A wife knows this may be the regular day, regular dinner. But, there's something special about this particular  dinner and she wants to snip it on her blog.

What should I do?

She is my angel. She is my devil.
She is my reflection. She is only a child.
Time will solve my problems.

She doesn't know yet, she doesn't know yet, she doesn't know yet.
But until when should I let her be a child? Until she goes to school?
I don't believe school will teach my child to be a person whom I want her to be.
School, educational system, big institution of child development don't know what's going on.
They are lazy, they are busy blaming on someone else, they don't care about "damn" thing as long as their pay check is deposited.

I'm her mom. I have to know my child.
Time is short. I have to make a right decision.
3-year-old child will be 13 before I even realize and then 30...
I don't want to miss a thing. Every moment is precious.

요즘따라 "세살 버릇 여든간다" 라는 말이 너무나 무섭게 느껴진다.


What is learned in the cradle is carried to the tomb./  Custom[Habit] is a second nature. 


These two proverbs are really scary to me these days. 

Mom's diary 4.18.2011 - Respect your mother!

I think I'm doing my best, but it is never enough.
All I get from you is "I want more! I want this and that!"
Do you think I'm your forever slave or something?

I raised you for 9 months inside my womb.
It took me 18 hours to deliver you in this world.
My bones and skin got all distorted by hard labor.

When I held you for the first time, I promised I wouldn't let anything hurt you.
You were my most precious in this world, and you still are.
I'm trying hard to protect you, to guide you, to nurture you but I don't know why you don't see it.
And I don't understand why you keep hurting my feelings while I'm trying to help you.

People say it's just phase, it will pass, it's just temporary.
People say all sort of things but nothing really explains why I should continue getting hurt by you.
Am I not good enough to raise a child? Am I doing something wrong?
Should I regret having a child right now? Should I make you feel what I feel?
What's the point of all these anyway?

Maybe it's too early to expect from 3-year-old to respect her mom. No, it shouldn't be.
A habit settles from age of 3, so if I just let you be/go, then you will grow up with attitude of "whatever" without thanking your mom. The last thing I would love to see from you is being selfish and ungrateful without respecting your parents who gave you a birth and raised you with full sacrifice. By all means, I'm toward to your safety, well-being and happiness before mine. My parenting method is not going to work without sacrifice of my own.

I know you will grow up, you will go to school, you will find your friends before finding me.
But remember, you wouldn't be here without me. I'm your mom and you are my daughter.
And... to me..
No matter how hard this parenting road is I have to deal with it. Because this was my choice.

Power of music - I'm yours by Jason Mraz

  I don't know since when I was digging into lyrics of songs. Sure, the rhythm of songs mostly caught my ear first. But if I couldn't find any messages or connections in lyric, I felt great disappointment. And I never repeat that song.

   Yesterday, I heard few songs in a row that I used to love in high school age. I was writing my story at StoryStudio Chicago. These songs were flowing out from the radio station. At first I ignored it. But later on, I had to check what station it was. FM3 93.9. I wrote it down on my palm.

   Today, I turned on this radio station while driving. I was alone. I felt like I was riding a time-machine. Physically I was on my way home through Elston ave but my mind was back in high school. I was wearing school uniform, sitting in a chair, looking outside of the window, gazing city night light, searching for something else than school study. Everywhere I looked around was girls of my age, had same school uniform, studying until midnight at school. What the heck we were doing? All the studies we did for what? Why were we treated like prisoner at age of 17?
   Tired, fed up, it was beyond craziness what I was going through. But I wasn't the only one in that turmoil. Anyway, the only escape I could dream of was through listening music on my CD player. Yeah.. Music was miracle, and still it is.
How come a simple music can totally crack my attention? I guess that is the power of music. Tonight, I'm in love with this song.

Judgmental mentality

   People like to judge by the surface. No,,no, it's our tendency to judge other humans by shallow background of our own before we reach further understanding of individuals. Most of people don't care about DAMN THING where these individuals really come from. Everything must come from somewhere and these are very complex organism.  
   However, people don't want to "think", they want to "know" instantly. Precisely, people want to be entertained. We don't want to fool ourselves, but we like to fool others. We like to spread rumors and gossips but we don't want to understand why. I wished this isn't true, but sadly this is what it is.
   The value of words have gone way, way down below. Most of us don't tell the truth. We lie, and the others assume us lying. Even if someone tells the truth, by the fault it would be lie because we are living in "Liars world". People hurt each other, they curse, they got mad and madder and explode and following unstoppable killings, murder, genocide, etc..
   Shouldn't we start thinking about why we started all these reality drama? Am I asking something stupid questions?
I don't think so. I really think there are big problems going on but it seems everybody don't really care. Ok, maybe they are aware of what's going on around the world- thanks to Internet , not the artificially mortified NEWS broadcast. As long as our belly is full, our TV is on, life problem solved. Is it? Really?
   What do we know exactly, anyway? If what we know is only manufactured by the system and these information were only told from one side, is it fair for the other people/group?
   I want to understand the whole thing. I want to decide by myself what is right and what is wrong. I don't need someone tells me that I am wrong. If I'm wrong, I'll see the result sooner or later anyway. After all, my decision is my responsibility.

   Blaming others, avoiding taking responsibilities are somewhat similar to 3-year-old child behavior. Of course, nobody in the world like to be criticized. Who would enjoy this kind of sharp feelings? If so, why one group of people would do to other group? Why would you hurt someone with your stupid judgmental attitude? Who do you think you are? Who am I after all? When would we be able to see each other without social mask? I doubt it.

Mama is very disappointed!

   When I was young, I wondered how come my mom knew everything I did. My mom used to answered me, "well, because I have other eyes in my back!" I never understood how my mom would know everything even if I tried to trick her or lied to her.

   Today, I dropped SL off to her class this morning and told her, "Be a good friend to your friends and listen to your teacher very carefully. See you in two hours, love you!"

   When I got home, I saw over-loaded house work waiting for me.
Where should I start? Well, let's drink a cup of coffee. Yeah.. let's have a little moment for myself. 
I started to brew my morning coffee, put a heart-shaped sugar lump and poured 2% skimmed milk. Having 10 minutes without interruption for myself was only luxury I could afford. Now, I needed to think about what's next step. Dishes? Laundry? Vacuuming?  It was the time to stop thinking, but just doing.
   Within 45 minutes, I could grab things as I used to do. Things in the house got back where they should have been. I felt great pleasure looking at neatly arranged kitchen, non-sticky wooden floor in the living room.
   With slight smile on my face, I jumped in shower and realized it was almost time to pick up my daughter. I hurried; grabbing SL's snack bag, putting on my jacket, lifting my purse and key. When I started a car engine, I heard my mom's voice. "급할 수록 돌아가라/ Make haste slowly."
   Yeah, mom. I'll try to calm down.

   Driving through Belmont traffic, I managed to arrive on time. SL was still playing in the indoor gymnasium with her friends, and showing me a paper Easter bunny on her hand. I saw her proud face. I heard her explaining about bunny's blue eyes and one curvy line for bunny's smile. She also mentioned that she had watched other kid's work.
   "Mom, some of my friends didn't draw bunny's eyes and mouth."
   "Well, Sou Lynn. That's their choice. You never know what they'd prefer."  I answered with calm voice.

   Holding hands together, we were crossing teacher's front desk to reach the other room to get her jacket. I heard Ms. Kim's voice.
   "Sou Lynn had to be in time-out. SL, will you tell your mom what had happened during the class?"
   "Umm... I waited but they didn't share toys with me.."
   Ms. Kim gave me a sign of trusted eyes. "She pushed one of her friends and knocked over other kids' toy castle."
   I knelt down to meet my daughter's eyes. "SL, mommy is very disappointed. How would you feel if someone is knocking over your toy castle that you worked on it hard?"
   "ANGRY!" She answered with full of emotion.
   "Well, that must be same for your friend. Did you say sorry to her?"
   "Yes, she did." Ms. Kim's voice broke in our conversation.
   I raised up and walked to the club room, still holding her hands. I still remained being calm, yet my mood wasn't so lively. There, I heard a voice of Ms. Kim's class assistant. "Sou Lynn! You were a trouble maker today! I hope you behave well tomorrow!"

   I managed to smile back reluctantly.
   This is mutual ground. I should stay calm, and I will deal with it/ with her when we get home.

   On the way home, I wasn't talking much. I was thinking how to initiate a conversation to this little feisty 3-year-old girl. She was happy having strawberry cereal bar in back seat. For her everything seemed perfect. But I couldn't let it happen again. I needed to do something firmly about her behavior. If she thought it would be fine to act that way, then it became my fault to let her be that way. After all, she's only 3 years old and she doesn't know the further consequences. It was my time to step in.

   "Sou Lynn, do you know why mommy is disappointed?"
   "Well, I wasn't behaving??" She answered with half-attention. Her focus was in Mac&Cheese which she wanted to have for lunch. I waited until she was full.
   This has to be serious. I have to let her know mommy is serious. 

   "Mom, can I watch Ponyo?" She talked to me when she was done her meal and that was exactly what I expected.
   "I want you to go in your room and think about what you have done to your friends."
   Now, all I could hear was fake crying, tantrum throwing just because she didn't get what she wanted, and I saw sneaky scanning in her eyes if I was serious about this issue.
   I couldn't believe this little girl was testing my temper. I tried to be patient, I tried to be reasonable, I did my best to give her what she needs. But for that moment, she was being a child, a 3-year-old child.
   I'm her mom. I need to teach her what's right thing to do, and what's not. 

   She was having 20 minutes of quiet time in her room, I was doing dishes in the kitchen. I felt our invisible tension in the house. I can't believe what I'm up to. I'm in nerve fighting with my daughter. But this time, I will not let it slip. 

   I tried to find my Zen while doing dishes, and made cup of Yooja tea, but my nerves still tilted to her movements. While I was drinking, I waited until she shows her next moves.
   I sensed her opening door, and quietly approaching to me, "Mom, I thought about what I did wrong. I was wrong to push my friend and knocked over other friends' toy castle. I'm not gonna do that again." And she lowered her voice with angelic smile, "Can I watch Ponyo, now?"
   My Zen mood shattered, I couldn't believe her strategy. She thought she would get what she wanted if she apologize to me.
   "No! You can't watch Ponyo today, because I don't think you really realized what you did wrong. And this is your consequences of your behavior. Mommy is very upset."

   Surprisingly, she didn't throw tantrum this time. Maybe she thought I was different than usual. She got down and brought Calliou puzzle pieces and sat down quietly by kitchen table. I watched her through my side eyes while reading a Parenting magazine. We were both quiet. She finished one turn within 3 minutes. Later, she brought Candy Land puzzle pieces and started to match them. She was patient. She was looking at me from time to time to check my mood. I could tell she was trying and trying hard not to disturb our silence. But she couldn't hold it any longer.
   "Mom..I was being patient. I waited and played puzzle until you play Ponyo.. Do I deserve to watch it now?"

   I gave up. She warmed my mood. Her smile melted my upset feelings. She became my angel. I smiled in my heart but didn't show to her.
   "Sou Lynn, mommy wants you to be a nice girl. Being nice isn't that hard. Number one, we don't push other friends. Number two, we don't knock down someone else's toy buildings. If you need to pass, go around, ok? Can you do that?"
   "Yes, I promise, mom. I'll do that."

Unpleasant scent - the first sign of the day

  I woke up with smell of urine. SL must have skipped our routine last night; she usually brushes her teeth, sit on toilet for last peeing ceremony of the day and change to her PJ. I had Memoir Workshop last night so my husband took care of her. I guess he didn't think further. 

   As usual, my happy daughter started her non-stop speech as soon she opened her eyes from 12 hours sleep. 

   "Mom, did you sleep well? How was your writing class last night? Oh.. I'm sorry, I peed on you and daddy's bed. But's almost dry now." 

   "What???" My hands immediately touched her bottom and she wasn't joking. 

I was still half asleep and my face got ugly frown. Within 2 second, I hurried to take her pants off, she must have felt wet, stinky cotton through the night. She wasn't complaining but I didn't want her to have any skin trouble. This all process rendered on the bed, and my eyes were still half-closed. 

   Soon, I heard alarm ringing. I didn't care what song was waking us up. I was already cranky, thinking of bed sheet laundry. And second thought, well, maybe I should use this whole event for a good opportunity. I've been thinking about doing bed sheet laundry for a while, and my daughter gave me a good excuse. 

Yes, what's the point of getting mad from the morning, after all, it's only a laundry. 

   I was pulling out every sheets and blanket couvert and pillow covers. 

Let's not spoil my day with unpleasant scent, I still have many hours to enjoy it, and who knows? I will refresh my nostril with fresh spring wind and daffodils on the side walk. 

   I knew and I learned long time ago about how to think of the world, and the only answer I've reached was it's all up to me. 

Mom's diary - 4.11.2011 "Carpe diem"

I've been very busy.
But do you what? I really, really missed being busy.
I used to live my days with full of plans, meetings, discussions, etc. I felt being alive through human connections. The people that I met were the proof of my existence. I needed to see the evidence that I was a living creature.
We met, we talked, we laughed and we shared our lives.
I missed people. I missed the taste of life.

Since we moved to Chicago, I felt like I was slowly disappearing, and nobody would notice either I existed.
Have you heard of the phrase, " the unbearable lightness of being"??
I was a wife, I was a mom of new-born, but that didn't give me an assurance of being myself.
Was I greedy? Why didn't I appreciate what I had? What was the problem? 
I don't know.. I'm still figuring out. There must be reasons why I was very desperate.

However, that's the past. Tonight, I don't want to be sad thinking about what had happened then.
Yes, the pain is still in my heart. It will be there forever. But I'm not in that mood tonight.

Carpe diem!
I learned this cliché phrase long time ago, and I fell in love with it. I am still in love with this phrase. No, it's even more alive as I get older.
This two words pop out from my head when I saw the tiny buds on the tree branches. We just got out of your Kiddie College at Brands park, you were so excited to have snack in the car, and my two seconds of glancing at outer world, I found this beauty of nature. I couldn't just ignore it.
It was the new leaves, so delicate, so tiny, so fragile. And I know it will grow with speed of light before we even notice, then we will have full of green leaves everywhere. By then it will be already hot summer.

   "Sou Lynn, Come over here! Look at these little bud. Do you see how tiny they are?
    Touch them very gently.
    They are baby leaves and they will grow and grow just like you are growing every day."

My daughter,
I want you to realize there are beauties everywhere in this world. You just need to keep this eyes to see them.
Whenever you are down, feeling sad, look around! You will find plenty of miracles and wonders that would wash your worries away.
And, this is also what I have to keep in my mind.
I shouldn't forget this old-fashioned phrase that everybody seems to know, yet most people tend to forget easily, "seize the day!"

Saturday morning

Could stay longer in the bed, but I knew I slept enough. 

I hear my daughter's wiggling on the other end of our King size bed. 

Oh.. I need to get up, and get her dressed, feed her breakfast.

I knew today is my writing day, and SL's going out with Aof. 

The weather is nice, I guess they will have fun day. 

Waving my hands to them at the wooden porch,

Listening SL's vibrant voice, telling Aof what's in her mind.

I smile, looking at their back silhouette.  

I'm lucky to have Aof taking care of SL on Saturday morning.

With deep sigh, I look around the house.

Dirty pots and pans filled in the sink,

Laundry basket is full,

Living room is full of SL's toys and dolls,

And I was feeling dried SL's play dough crumbs between my toe.

I don't want to waste my precious time doing dishes, laundry and cleaning.

I need to get out. 

Now, I'm sitting in a cafe, under a big sign of a mysterious woman with long hair, wearing star crown. 

I wish I could go somewhere to sit and write but my economic sense tells me that parking costs more than a cup of coffee.  

My seat is perfect right now; slightly cornered, square shape wooden table that my small laptop and papers and coffee fit perfectly. 

My ears follow the Hawaiian tropical music from the stereo, that's why I gave up listening Susan Boyle for now. 

From time to time, my eyes travel over the big glass window. People come and go constantly.

So typical yet something exciting Saturday morning. Is it because everybody feels the warmth of spring sun? Or is it just because this is Saturday morning? 

Whatever it is, I sit down and gaze at them. I like to imagine what they are talking to each other.

It's really fun to observe their frequent habit, body gesture and smile. I'd like to know their personalities through their attitude, although it would be impossible to know from the surface. 

I oppose the idea of judging by the cover, yet every human expresses themselves with certain style that they want others to recognize them. The more I see them, the more intriguing humans are!! I am simply an observer, and I am interested in learning from everybody. 

Spring rain

I used to love spring rain. And I still love its existence. 

It's such a gift from mother nature. 

Spring rain 

By Sun Hee Yoon

Soft falling on the ground.

teelip, tarop, teelip, tarop.

Wake up, wake up, everyone.

It's time to stretch your arm, raise yourself from the ground.

Spring rain softly whispers to the world.

Timid, delicate, its gentle touch

To aggresive, wild, dry world,

Spring rain deliciously whispers,

It's ok. Don't be afraid to come out.

When I was a girl, 

I loved watching rain falling. 

Whenever a raindrop falls on the ground,

I could hear ding, dong, magical sound. 

Cleansing dirts on the street,

drip, drop, drip, drop

Good bye old dirts! It's time to wash your face. 

I could stand all day outside

Looking at the crystal circles on the mirror-like sidewalk, 

Sniffing the fresh air with rain mist particles,

Listening teelip, tarop, rhythmic sound on the umbrella.

It's new beginning

We start all over again. 

What can I do for 15 min?

I have to wake up early tomorrow. I need to rest. I've got only 15 minutes.
Why time goes so fast? Time, time, time. Why, why, why.
I can't believe it's already April of 2011. It was like yesterday when I say "Happy New Year" to everyone.
1/3 of 2011 has passed. It's done. It's not coming back.


Time, tick-tock, tick-tock.
It's probably the scariest sound of whole universe.
Because every move, every decision we make, it can't turn back.
Time is ultimate power, and universal beauty.
Time is loud as a thunder, but gentle as a spring rain.


I still have 2 minutes to wrap this up.
Well, a question floats up in my mind.
"How did you spend your day?"
"I spent it well; I was patient with my daughter. I learned new things such as right turn has priority on the street than left turn. I made my friend happy. I cooked healthy food for my family. I shared the ideas with my husband. All these things made my heart super happy."

Swirling mind

   My laptop screwed everything. Good thing I have extra. I need to change my mood and focus.
   At least I can still write and scribble.

   Feeling comes, feeling goes.
   It's like the wind; you can't see it, you can't hear it, you can't restore it.
   Feelings are tricky. It's constantly changing; just like the fast speeding water, swirling down to the stream. Sometimes it sprays into the air. Sometimes it flows unbelievably fast but we can't see its power from the surface. The feeling is just like that. What we feel is much more like strong current of water flowing, yet it's hard to see from outside until we express it. Expressing feeling is also quite challenging. I haven't learned properly how to express our feelings.

   Anger, despair, lonesome, boredom, joy, excitement, determination, resignation, anxiety, feeling of uncertainty, desire, jealousy, failure, isolation, and companionship, betrayal, hurt, hope, belief and love. 


   How can we express them in a right way? I wish there are encyclopedia of expressing our feelings. I wish there are more discussions about how to express what we feel. Because these feelings have bothered me such a long time, and I need way-out.  

   *   *   *

   I had wonderful creative mind, motivation, and burst of pulling out.
I wanted to write about my daughter's smell, and her sleep posture, before my eyes caught up with tons of house work. I wanted to remember her cherry scent from her breath, after brushing her teeth with Dora the explore tooth paste. The sweet sweat on her forehead was still on my palm. I wanted to capture it. I suck up all her smell so I could bring them out on my writing.

   How much do I love my baby smell? That must be the best smell of the world.
My mom's voice echoes in my ear now, "Oh, this is the best smell, this after-milk breath from baby's mouth."
I agree with her. I haven't smelled anything better than my baby's plump skin smell. Especially when I smell her neck line and it must tickle her. She squeals with joy and wiggles her whole body, but I love to smell her breath, her sweat. Even it's stinky morning breath, even it's unbearable fart smell, I love them all.

   When I open her room before I go to bed to check if she's covered with blanket. The first to notice is her innocent, living breath which has been filled up entirely her room. It permeates every angle in the room; her blanket, pillow, even her love-y.

   I dream of her having adventurous dream. I wish I could see what she's dreaming now. I love to record everything; what is like to be in the middle of night on April, 4th, 2011 in Sun Hee's mind.

   All I can do is write.