Stalker

Maybe it's because I am getting old, but I am becoming more and more engrossed in thinking about the past. It's been about 10 years since I last spoke to a particular friend, but I can't help but think about what he's up to.

This guy was a friend from highschool. I think he was in love with me. Actually, I know so, since he told me the week before he left for college. He made this grand gesture about not going and staying near by so we could get married in the near future and freaked me the hell out. Mind you, I was only 16 years old, and his parents were crazy Asian parents who pushed their kids academically to the point of nervous breakdowns. Plus, I knew he liked me, but he never made a move in the three years we were friends and two years we were practically inseparable. He just hinted, and hemmed and hawed and never was man enough to just freakin say it... until it was too late. His profession of love caught me off guard, and frankly, was off putting. And I wasn't too keen on his parents hunting me down like a dog for preventing their son from going to Ivy League to stay at a state school... to marry me. I would be INSANE to want inlaws like that. Soooo, I shot him down and off he went, far away to college.

He kept calling me at least once a week throughout college. I was quite impressed with his devotion and actually gave thought that perhaps one day we really would end up together. And then he screwed it up again. In his sophmore year, and my freshman year, he started to date an amazing girl. Unfortunately, sometimes really smart people are really messed up. This girl was a mess. I was happy that he moved on and started to like other girls, but was just a tad bit disappointed that he didn't pursue our relationship further. I guess I still wanted him to be a man. A reasonable man. I wanted him to really think of practical ways for us to be together. For example, say "I really like you, I want a long distance relationship." Not some crazy cockimamie plan like him dashing his college dreams and rushing into a teenaged marriage. Really, it was truly THAT simple. But I guess he was used to girls telling HIM that they liked him and wanted a relationship. Well, I am not that kind of girl. And once he indicated that he was interested in other girls, I just crossed him off my potential boyfriend list.

Anyways, as he pursued his psychotic love, we kept in touch with regular phone calls. Since we had been so close for so long, I really loved his friendship and was more comfortable with the relationship now that I knew it would be reciprocated on the same level. Before this, he was ALWAYS (I mean always, at least one phone call a week. For 2 years.) the one to call me. Now I called him with regularity as well. The next year I started dating my now husband and everything was hunky-dory. I really regarded him as one of my best friends.

A couple of years later, we were still great friends. I was still dating my now-husband and obviously very serious about him. The Friend had a couple more girlfriends in the mean time. I remember it was either on Valentine's Day, or near it, Friend decides to pull the same psychotic shit again! We were chatting on the phone, Husband (then boyfriend) had fallen asleep studying in my room. Husband was fine with my relationship with Friend and usually busied himself with studying (or sleeping) while I would chat with Friend on the phone for hours. We were discussing where Friend was interviewing for medical school this particular night, going over pros and cons, etc etc. He then busts out with this conversation: (I am paraphasing, obviously)

"I applied to your medical school, you know. I have an interview in a month."

"Oh really? Why? It's not all Ivy league and snotty like the others."

"Yeah, but I like the weather, and it's closer to home."

"Well, cool. I know you won't come here, but it'll totally be fun when you come to interview. You can stay with future-Husband, and I'll skip class and we'll hang out. It'll be so much fun!"

"Yeah, well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. If I do come down to interview, then I am sure I will be accepted. If I go to your medical school, then I will expect that you and I will be together and planning marriage in the future. If you aren't willing to do that, then I don't want to spend the time and money for the interview."

WTF?!

OK, that's something he could say that if we had been dating this whole time. Or even if he had hinted that he loved me all these years. Or if he had the balls to speak up when I started dating Husband and gushed about him at every opportunity. But for him to say that to me while now-Husband laid innocently on the floor snoring, and me feeling icky and bad like I just cheated on him. A friendly conversation turned into a profession of life-long convenant. And for him to say it in a tone/manner suggesting that I OWED HIM AT LEAST AS MUCH. I repeat, WTF?!

So, I didn't shoot him down. I tore him a new one. I ranted, raved, fumed and said that he betrayed my friendship and that I didn't think he should ever call me again.

So he didn't. Six month went by and I never thought of it again until a particular sermon made me feel oh so so guilty. It was about making amends with people before becoming right with God. And Friend popped right into my little head. With distance, I felt VERY sheepish about my reaction, OVER reaction, really, of our conversation. Maybe I was guilty for liking him still little deep down. Maybe I was digusted by his cowardice again. But I realized that I sucked and treated him badly. Plus, I really missed his friendship, his advice and coolheaded take on life.

A couple of weeks later, I called him up to apologize and to repair our friendship. And, wow, I got what I deserved. He told me that the past six months were hard, but he was finally getting over me and had just started to like a sweet girl in his Christian fellowship. He agreed with what I said earlier, that we shouldn't ever talk again, because all I was, was his bad news.

Okay.

So that brings us to today. Why am I still obsessing about this thing? My life is so blessed. I know I married my soulmate (btw, my inlaws totally rock!) and I now know that God was watching out for me regarding Friend. I could see how easy we could have ended up with each other. He could have said one simple sentence in the course of a couple years, and I would have been his. In retrospect, that would have been a mistake. However what I do regret is how I was so mean and treated him poorly when his intentions were good. I gave in to my selfishness and let my mouth spew forth so much diarrhea that I can never fix it. I lost one fabulous friendship with a wonderful person because I couldn't keep my lid on. I think I obsess over it because I still miss him. He really was a huge part of my growing up. Kind of like my version of Winnie and Kevin on the Wonder Years.

We have mutual friends, but I hardly keep up with them. In passing one of them has said that any mention of me was still banned in his presence. I can't help but think that by losing his friendship, I have lost a couple more as well. Peripherally, I have gathered that he is doing really well. He has an adorable family and is a successful doctor. It makes me kind of sad to think that our kids will never play with each other and our spouses won't ever meet. He and his wife seem like the type of friends Husband and I would love to have. I suppose I have the means to contact him, but frankly, I don't want to be a stalker. I already am in my mind. God forbid he think I am one as well. I am sure that he hasn't given me a second thought in many years and he's someone who is generous and forgiving. But I have an uncomfortable feeling that I am now associated with all things bad and evil in his mind. And as forgiving as he maybe, it doesn't mean he wants anything to do with me. So what is the point? To make me feel better? If that is all, then contacting him would be selfish and stupid. So I haven't.

And since we are being brutally honest here, the other possibility is perhaps I still love him. Well, did I ever? I mean, I loved him as a friend. I had a huge crush on him in middle school. But no, I never loved him, at least not in the way I love my Husband. I think I was created to love, live with and torture my poor Husband. If I had married Friend, it would have been all wrong. His personality is not what I need in a husband. I would have gone mad and drove him to the nuthouse as well. Husband is a bit boorish sometimes, and v v willful, kind of like me. He will lay his damn heart down all over the place if that is what he believes. He chased me with a vengenance. He is that kind of leader that I crave in a lover and mate. Friend was too accommodating. He's all, I will love you if you want me to. Husband is like, I love you, damn it, whether you like it or not. Take it, leave it. Arrrrrgh!

So the point of this long-winded boring post is, I will NOT attempt to facebook friend him.

Potty Talk

I am overjoyed that my 3 year old daughter is finally starting to use the toilet consistently. But does she really have to yell,

"OH MY GOD! That's A LOT of POO POO!!"

every. single. time. In public restroom stalls. Where I am locked in with her. With many strangers around.

Toddler Logic

Coming home from work I was greeted with a breathless excitement, a throttling hug and this shriek-ment from Little Ninja:

MOMMY! I FAN-PEE'D ("fart", in Chinese, but with English past tense) and I JUMPED All! Day! Long! Because.... I love to eat COOKIEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeesssssssssss!!!!!!

*farrrt* She runs away.

My Auntie says...

The following words have come out of actual patients' mouths. I am in private practice and my patients are generally well-educated... supposedly.

Patient #1: Doctor, I've been doing the "Dairy Diet" for a few months now and I am gaining weight instead of losing it! I think there is something wrong with my hormones.

Me: What's the Dairy Diet?

Patient #1: Well my auntie told me about it. She said that I had to eat a lot of diary throughout the day, so I've been eating at least 4 bowls of ice cream a day, but I still keep gaining weight!

Me: Oh my...

_______

Patient #2: I don't know why I keep getting yeast infections.

Me: review ways to avoid yeast infection, blahblahblah, including eating a lot of active cultures, like yogurt.

Patient #2: Oh, you are suppose to eat the yogurt?! My auntie told me to put the yogurt up my vagina

Me: Oh my...

_______

Patient #3: There's something wrong with your office. Every time I come, your scales say I weight over 300 pounds! I know I don't weight 300 pounds. All my friends and aunties say that I don't look like I weight 300 pounds.

Silent Me: sucka...

Eau de Momme'

As we were stepping out the door for a Christmas party, I realized that I forgot to put on perfume. I didn't want to go upstairs again, especially in my sexy and highly impractical black pumps, so I asked my husband to sniff me.

"Do I smell OK?"

Long pause.

"You smell like Mommy."


So I went upstairs to put on perfume.

I'm still gonna breastfeed Meat Ball for as long as I want, even though I smell like a dairy farm.

Like an elephant

While we were brushing our teeth in preparation for bed. Little Ninja turned to me and said,

"Mommy, when I was a baby, I drank milk from your neh-neh (Mandarin for breast). I drank it when I was hungry. Do you remember that? Do you remember?"

Yes, darling Ninja, I do remember.

Torn

Today I had the complete opposite convictions about my children.

This morning during breakfast, Little Ninja and Meat Ball were so interactive with each other that I got misty-eyed. While Meat Ball was sitting in his highchair, Ninja would crawl underneath the table, crawl back up, jump up and down yelling "PEEKABOO! BOO! BOO!" This, in turn, caused Meat Ball to fall into peals of laughter and squeals, which would cause Ninja to laugh her little almost-three-year-old head off. The process repeated itself many times. The hilarious part of the game was that at no time was Little Ninja ever out of Meat Ball's sight. It was a laborious process of climbing under the table and back up the seating bench for Ninja. Meat Ball would stare at her intently the whole time, but every time she finally made it back up and out, yelling "PEEKABOO!" Meat Ball would act so surprised and lose himself in a fit of guffaws.

Then...

This afternoon, I was a bad parent and pushed the children to their limit. I wanted to hang out and cook with some friends. No naps for either one. Little Ninja fell asleep on the way home and I carried her upstairs. She woke up to complete darkness (even though it was only 6:30pm. Durn winter!) and had a complete freak-out meltdown. Meat Ball was also tired and cranky, but he is just so much more chill than his big sister. I tried to calm Ninja down, who was screaming, thrashing, crying, and wanted to hug me. However poor Meat Ball, who was so scared at all this commotion, wanted a snuggle with me as well. That set Ninja completely off the deep end. She is a VERY strong two year old. "NOOOOOOOOO! Meat Ball TOUCHED ME! Meat Ball FAR AWAY NOW!!" I then had two screaming terrified children vying for my attention and my embrace. It just broke my heart to push Meat Ball away as he tried to crawl on me while I was holding Ninja. But poor Ninja (who really is a sweet thing) was just too discombobulated, sleep, hungry and worked up, really needed me to help calm her down. I had to get Meat Ball away, lest one of Ninja's wildly failing limbs hurt him. I wasn't able to comfort either one of them adequately. For about an hour, I wished I had only one child. And why was a I dumb enough to thing two little ones at once was such a good idea?

Now that the two are safely tucked in their beds asleep, I can breathe and rationally know that this little episode was nothing. Many single parents go through this daily. I am lucky that even though my husband works many nights and I have to do a lot of this on my own, I HAVE a partner. And I know that I am fortunate also in that when things really get hairy, the hospital he works as an emergency room doctor is less than a mile away. My plan is to throw the kiddos in the double stroller for a calming walk, show up to the ER and just leave the little monsters with him so I can get a drink. On second thought, maybe a sling would be more convenient so he can at least wear one kiddo, lest pushing the stroller slows him down. I am nothing if not considerate.