Skeptickle

*Disclaimer: This letter does not mean that I am pregnant nor do we plan to be in the near future. I just felt like writing it. Thanks.*

Dear Offspring,

It is February 28th, 2010, which means that I’m writing to you at the age of 26. Your father and I just moved into our first house a little over a week ago and it’s exactly a week before our one year wedding anniversary. I’m not saying that I have everything figured out about life (because I really haven’t!), but I’ve learned a few things in my teens and early twenties that I thought would be important to share.

Firstly, I anticipate giving you this letter when and if there’s a major disconnect in our communication. I really hope I never have to. I hope above all hope that our relationship is as positive and healthy as they come. Maybe I read too many books with this theme and watch too much Dr. Phil and “reality” tv shows (are those still around?), but I think there might be a chance that we will go through a rocky period where your hormones are going crazy and I haven’t yet learned how to respect the freedom that you wish to have. To be honest, this problem is universal. Your grandmother (my mother) and I went through a similar phase when I was a teenager and there was a lot of unnecessary conflict. If only we both weren’t so stubborn.

I had only two major regrets after your grandmother passed away. The first was not taking responsibility for my share of our fights. I was more concerned about being right at the time than about fighting fair. A lot of our fights were about friends, boys, grades, and her insisting on me figuring out what I want to do with the rest of my life. Most of these things were temporary and really not that important in the grand scheme of things.* Unfortunately, I had to learn that the hard way. My second regret is that I didn’t get a chance to videotape her so that you could see what she was like during the good times we’ve had. We just didn’t think to and it didn’t help that we didn’t own a camcorder or have the money to buy one either.

*They are important to a certain degree but nothing’s more important than family and our closest of friends.

If we do have a lapse in communication, there are still some things I would like you to understand.

Take a step back from your life once in a while and assess your situation. Are you being someone that you’re not? Are you emulating others just so that you can fit in? Are you being an extreme version of yourself (extremely angry, extremely nice, extremely weird, etc.) just so you can be different? Are you trying to be some fantasy self so that that boy/girl will like you? If you said “yes” to any of those questions then it sounds you’re putting in a lot of work to fight against your true self. Being an authentic person is probably one of the hardest things people have to work towards in order to be truly happy. I say this because I went through that whole cycle myself. I used to run from myself all the time. I wanted to be anyone but the real Sophia (she’s so boring anyways ). But eventually, you’re going to have to deal with that person inside either way so the sooner you do it the better you are for it.

Speaking of true selves, think about your true friends. If you have many friends then you may only have a small handful of true friends. They are the ones that support you and are there for you when things are rough. They are the ones that encourage you and inspire you to be a better you, not force you or manipulate you to be someone that you’re not. When you have something worth celebrating, they shower you with love and congratulations instead of retreating in jealousy or trying to one-up you. Friendship is a two-way street. If you’re giving way more than you’re getting back for a long enough time then it’s time to pull away. Don’t be bitter about it. It’s just not meant to be. True friends also give you space when you need it and don’t smother you. They listen to you even when you are expressing dissatisfaction about something they’ve done that have hurt or annoyed you. They don’t make a joke of it or negate your feelings. These are the people you don’t mind letting your true self show.

The same is true for those you’re romantically interested in. Your romantic interest may also have a different perspective on life and probably a different belief system too, but they should never force those upon you nor should you change yours to fit theirs. Be open to other beliefs but only change yours if it completely makes sense to you. Ask yourself “if this person didn’t hold this perspective, would I have adopted it anyways?”. Your father and I have similar perspectives on life as a whole but there are significant differences between our belief systems. I have kept firm to mine (and he has too) because beliefs are personal. Don’t let any government, group, or individual (including either of us) convince you otherwise.

There is so much more to cover and there’s no way I can cover it all. I hope you take this to heart. Remember that I am not your mother yet so all that I say here might as well be from a neutral 3rd party that cares about you a great deal even before you’re born.

Thanks for reading,

Sophia

I don’t have any cool pictures to post. There really isn’t anything glamorous about moving. This is especially true when you have tons and tons of stuff that you just can’t bring yourself to get rid of. Rob and I are not hoarders by any sense of the word, but we have our share of what others might consider “junk”. Old relics that should have found themselves in the dollar section of Goodwill, but are priceless in our hearts. Both of us inherited our late parents’ stuff. My family left me in charge of anything valuable my mom left us because I’m the only one that would take that responsibility seriously. My MIL sent us boxes and boxes of things because she is a generous soul and she knows that Rob would appreciate these objects that produce so many nostalgic memories.

We are fortunate to have a small army of friends to help us move. Rob hired movers the last time he moved and it was certainly the last time we will be doing that because they destroyed our coffee table, didn’t compensate for it (we filed a complaint and never heard back from them), and charged us a lot more than they estimated. Our friends were gentler to our things and  lugged all of our junk for us for the measly exchange of a lunch and for those who stayed later, dinner and wine.

When they said that the start-up costs of a house isn’t just the downpayment, monthly payments, and utilities, they weren’t kidding around! We now have to think about yard stuff- lawn-mowing, landscaping, gardening, etc. We also have hardwood floors that require felt padding for our furniture and also rugs to dampen the echoing rooms and for softer areas to step on. The owner didn’t have a dishwasher, so we had to order our own. And there are a million other little things that aren’t really a big deal but would be nice to improve on (the nasty fruity wallpaper in the dining room must go!). So here I am, half-way through the week and only half unpacked . I’m hoping that I’ll be a lot more settled by the end of the weekend. Here’s to hoping!

-Sophia

“What’s in a name?

That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

-Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare

At least the trouble with our last names isn't like the one between the Montagues and Capulets. Cuz we all know how THAT story ends.

It didn’t even occur to me that it would be this hard to adopt a long, strange-sounding, Caucasian last name. I don’t know why. Maybe because everyone used to butcher my three-letter Chinese last name so much that I didn’t think it could be worse.

So here’s the background. When Rob and I were first thinking about marriage, the topic of name-changing came up. He felt strongly that whoever marries him would adopt his last name. I was actually surprised about his feelings because he’s normally a very progressive guy. I would even say that he qualifies as a feminist (someone who believes both sexes should be treated equally and/or have equal opportunities) if it wasn’t such a bad word in certain circles. However, since I wasn’t such a fan of his last name, I delayed any serious thinking of it until we were well into our engagement. It was one of those things that I had secretly hoped he would give up after more time had passed.

About two months before our wedding, it was really time to make a decision because we needed to fill out our marriage license forms. I weighed the pros and cons of our situation. If I adopted his last name then there would be a lot less confusion when we have kids. As someone who was from a family with two different last names, I can attest to how much more convenient it is to all have the same last name. My mother and my brother shared the same last name because she wanted to pass down her family name (she has no brothers), while my father and I shared his last name. Additionally, Rob rarely feels so strongly about things like this, while I feel strongly about most things and he gives in to a lot of them.

At the same time, the feminist voice in my head was berating me for even considering this. Why would I give in to the oppressive pressure of our paternalistic society? Why should I conform to antiquated ideals and cater to the convenience of the bureaucrats? And most importantly, why do I have to deal with having boobs and Rob doesn’t?

I’ll probably never know.

In the end, I did what I did best, which is to negotiate a compromise to make both sides happy. If I changed my last name to his, then he has to change his middle name to my late mother’s. She was the ultimate feminist and managed to not only keep her last name, but also to have her only son be born with it so that he can pass it down the generations. This is almost unheard of in Chinese society.

So that was almost a year ago and now I have had to adjust to the consequences of that decision. I get puzzled looks every time I introduce myself, either because it sounds funny to people who’ve never heard of it before or because my last name doesn’t match my race. It’s always a topic of conversation when I first meet people and I get comments on it more often than not. At the check-out counter, I’m asked for a picture id when I use a credit card even though the lady in front of me wasn’t asked that when she used hers. Little things like that. Though, Rob has gotten crap for changing his beloved middle name too so I’m not totally alone on this.

I received another letter today from Kitchenaid to extend the warranty of my $65 hand-mixer another year for $54. Thank you Kitchenaid, this is your second attempt at assuming that I have a low enough IQ and high enough money to buy into your joke of an extended warranty. And to add insult to injury, they addressed me as Mrs Sophia Qurtlebaum. *Sigh*