Last weekend, my husband and I had a crazy weekend as we prepared to throw a birthday party for his grandma who turned 99. We invited his entire extended family on his father's side, which came out to 19 people in total. It was definitely daunting to think about cooking for such a large group of people, but I was ready for the challenge. This would be the first time we hosted a large group like this in our not-so-large apt, and the first time I'd be cooking a korean meal for his family. It was a lot of pressure!
So, Sy and I decided that we would go simple - or so we thought - and make 3 things: 1 main dish, and 2 side dishes. We planned on making Bibimbap (korean rice bowl with mixed vegetables and meat) with baked soy garlic chicken wings, and crab/scallion pancakes.
Man oh man. It was a crazy weekend. We went grocery shopping on Sat evening, and we thought, okay, we'll just prep the vegetables before we sleep and get a head start on Sun. We ended up prepping vegetables from 11pm-2:30am. Why did it take so long? Because our apt was not prepared to cook such large quantities of food! First of all, it took forever to dice up 8 zucchinis. And then we had to saute the zucchinis - and our largest frying pan could not hold it all. I had to saute all the zucchinis in 3 batches! Repeat this exact process as we peeled, chopped up, sauteed 10 carrots. Btw, do you know how hard it is to wash 5 bunches of spinach? After you unbundle them and wash them, you're left with literally a mountain of spinach. I had not enough bowls to place the cleaned spinach! Every large bowl in my kitchen was utilized to just hold the spinach and every inch of counter space looked like a greenhouse filled with spinach. And then I had to boil a large pot of water, then boil the spinach, drain it, squeeze out all the water, and set aside - 3x total! Each process was so long and frustrating! I had no idea that cooking for 19 people would be so arduous and difficult in a small kitchen.
Let's just say with the rest of the ingredients, it was also a long process. You try making 60 crab pancakes, and cooking 40 chicken wings. On Sunday, we cooked from 12pm-5pm when our guests arrived. (side note, we even had to make an emergency run to Party City in the morning bc we realized we didn't own bowls that were large enough to hold bibimbap! what a fail!) So it's fair to say - this was quite an ordeal.
Our apt was complete chaos. We put all the adults at our dining table, and brought out every chair, stool, and something to sit on we had. We sat all the cousins on the floor on a side table we store under our couch for emergencies like this. And 4 small children jumped on our couch as a trampoline while we ate. It was nuts.
By the time everyone went home at 9pm, I was exhausted. We had used every bowl in our cabinets for the soup that my sister-in-law had made. There were 4 bags of trash. And at one point, the kids had moved to our bedroom, and used our bed as a trampoline again, and also had decided to throw all our pillows, pajamas, and stuffed animals on the floor. The thought of cleaning up after this marathon of cooking/hosting made me want to never want to host again.
It really made me wonder - how the heck did my mother's generation do this on a regular basis? I thought about my childhood and remembered all the happy times of family festivities and how easy it all seemed. My parents' generation came from a time when the average sibling size was 6-8 kids. My mom is 1 of 6 kids. Growing up, every Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Birthday celebrations were always filled with a minimum of 20 people - and that was before all the grandkids started to come along. How on earth did my aunts/mom do this with no help? Most of the men of their generation do not help out in the kitchen. (thank God Sy helped me!) And they cooked big, elaborate dishes! They made it seem so easy! It seemed like bowls of hot, steaming food just appeared out of nowhere. It made me wonder - did they start cooking days ahead of time? Did they ever complain to their husbands? Did they clean the house too? (bc I made Sy do that while I cooked. There was not enough time for me to do both!) I just started to realize how much our mothers' generation did for us.
Our moms are amazing people. I think marriage has made me realize just how much my mom did for us. I can barely cook dinner for us every night. Pizza is just such an easy solution. But not when I was growing up. We always ate a home cooked meal. Every time I go home, my mom packs me bags of frozen marinated food. I've always taken it for granted. But now I know, she must have sat at the kitchen table, prepping all this food for me for hours. No wonder she's always fishing for compliments! She's exhausted! =) I have no idea how my mother's generation did so much. (granted, I'm sure the larger cooking equipment will help for sure if I ever invest in them) But still! I'm so amazed. I'm so impressed. And most of all, I'm so humbled. I took it all for granted. I wish I could go back in time and hug all my aunts for all their hard work. I wish I could tell my mom that I appreciate all that she did. All I know is, from now on, I am always going to say thank you, and be genuinely thankful for it. They deserve our praise. And what they really deserve is a break - but I don't know if I'm ready to take this on every time. Haha!
Well, thank goodness we survived. The food came out great, all the relatives were happy, and all of our furniture is still intact. Whew! Hopefully, we won't have to host again for at least a few months. =)
p.s. lesson learned - bibimbap is actually a really hard dish to make for a large group of people. apparently, sy's mom internally laughed at us when we told her the menu and that we thought it was simple. *face palm
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
It's a miracle!
This past Sunday, I heard a man tell his testimony of how he was diagnosed with leukemia at the age of 20, and immediately began chemotherapy, and endured years of trying to fight the cancer. He talked about how when he finally finished all his treatment and was declared in remission, every once in a while, he would feel a deep sense of gratitude to be alive - like when he watched his sister walk down the aisle, or when he had his first baby.
As he reminisced these feelings of gratitude, it reminded me of my single days. I used to have a "theory" or rather statement that I talked about frequently. When I was single, I strongly felt that finding the one was like witnessing a miracle. So many "stars" have to align for a marriage to happen. 2 people need to meet somehow; and also be at the right point of their lives where they are ready to be in a serious relationship; and both people need to be in the mature mindset to see and accept each other; and both need to get through enough dating without any outside circumstances to get in the way to derail them; and then both need to have families that will help move them along to marriage; and lastly have the financial means to get married.
I guess this is why every person before the one is the wrong one. But it's also based on all these stars aligning. Sy and I often say to each other that if we had met each other years ago, we wouldn't have dated the other. It was only because we were both where we were when we met that we were open to each other. I think about my friend who was madly in love with a guy amidst a terrible family emergency. She was so stressed and emotionally needy that this guy couldn't take the heat. If she hadn't been going through that family situation, would they have survived? Quite possibly! But it all depends on all the stars aligning JUUUUUUST right that sparks fly and marriage becomes a glowing dot on the radar. I used to always cry out - it's a miracle if you find the one!
When I was single, this theory of mine freaked the heck out of me. It was frighteningly daunting to think about my odds of finding love. And now that I am married (and I won the marriage lottery), I realized how so many other things in life are miracles like this. You always hear the cliche "a baby is a miracle." And when I was younger, I always thought that was a bit of a dramatic statement. People have babies everyday. What's so hard about it? But now, as I am older, I hear countless stories of friends who have trouble conceiving, or fears from nervous mothers that their babies will be born with some kind of defect or illness. AGAIN - all the stars have to align perfectly for a baby to be born healthy! A single chromosome can change your life. Everything is so delicately placed into order. Having a baby is seriously a miracle. Having a healthy baby is a miracle on top of a miracle.
As this man spoke about how every once in a while, God reminds him of things to be grateful for, I realized that I want to be that grateful for all my own miracles. It's a miracle that Sy and I found each other and fell in love. It's a miracle that my sister is pregnant! There are so many miracles around us that we never notice bc we don't realize how miraculous it was to make it happen.
I really hope that I don't need a leukemia story of my own to remind me to be grateful every day. Although, I often look at Sy and feel like he is my own miracle reminder when I reflect back on all the heartache I endured. But in the meantime, let's see the miracles in our lives every day!
As he reminisced these feelings of gratitude, it reminded me of my single days. I used to have a "theory" or rather statement that I talked about frequently. When I was single, I strongly felt that finding the one was like witnessing a miracle. So many "stars" have to align for a marriage to happen. 2 people need to meet somehow; and also be at the right point of their lives where they are ready to be in a serious relationship; and both people need to be in the mature mindset to see and accept each other; and both need to get through enough dating without any outside circumstances to get in the way to derail them; and then both need to have families that will help move them along to marriage; and lastly have the financial means to get married.
I guess this is why every person before the one is the wrong one. But it's also based on all these stars aligning. Sy and I often say to each other that if we had met each other years ago, we wouldn't have dated the other. It was only because we were both where we were when we met that we were open to each other. I think about my friend who was madly in love with a guy amidst a terrible family emergency. She was so stressed and emotionally needy that this guy couldn't take the heat. If she hadn't been going through that family situation, would they have survived? Quite possibly! But it all depends on all the stars aligning JUUUUUUST right that sparks fly and marriage becomes a glowing dot on the radar. I used to always cry out - it's a miracle if you find the one!
When I was single, this theory of mine freaked the heck out of me. It was frighteningly daunting to think about my odds of finding love. And now that I am married (and I won the marriage lottery), I realized how so many other things in life are miracles like this. You always hear the cliche "a baby is a miracle." And when I was younger, I always thought that was a bit of a dramatic statement. People have babies everyday. What's so hard about it? But now, as I am older, I hear countless stories of friends who have trouble conceiving, or fears from nervous mothers that their babies will be born with some kind of defect or illness. AGAIN - all the stars have to align perfectly for a baby to be born healthy! A single chromosome can change your life. Everything is so delicately placed into order. Having a baby is seriously a miracle. Having a healthy baby is a miracle on top of a miracle.
As this man spoke about how every once in a while, God reminds him of things to be grateful for, I realized that I want to be that grateful for all my own miracles. It's a miracle that Sy and I found each other and fell in love. It's a miracle that my sister is pregnant! There are so many miracles around us that we never notice bc we don't realize how miraculous it was to make it happen.
I really hope that I don't need a leukemia story of my own to remind me to be grateful every day. Although, I often look at Sy and feel like he is my own miracle reminder when I reflect back on all the heartache I endured. But in the meantime, let's see the miracles in our lives every day!
Monday, February 22, 2016
a new state of being
last week, i went to the New York State DMV to apply for my new driver's license. my nj license was expiring, and i decided that now that i was married, i should probably get a new license with my married home, and stop living under my parents' car insurance. it sounded simple and logical enough, until they made me surrender my NJ license as i requested a new NY license.
i'm not gonna lie - i cried. no, it's not that i'm some kind of drama queen and i cry at the drop of a hat. but i think the deeper symbolism kept eating at my soul. i've had a nj license since i was 16. my identity has always been a nj girl. when i went to boston, i said i was from nj. when i moved to nyc, i kept my nj license as i always considered that my permanent residence. even after 10 years of living in nyc, i feel proud of the fact that i am not a hard, jaded, cynical, rude new yorker; i am a kind, polite, and helpful nj girl who happens to live in nyc but kept her suburban geniality.
but now, my license says i am a new yorker - and that comes with all the implications that you would associate with a new yorker. as i've been given this new title, it means it has stripped away a part of my original identity. a part of who i am has been removed and been replaced with something else. and it's jarring - and also a bit sad. yes, i acknowledge there are great things with being associated as a new yorker. i am associated with being driven, ambitious, street-smart, cultured, fast. but it doesn't change the fact that a part of my identity has been taken away.
i cried a little after the DMV clerk told me i was done, and i'd receive my new license in 2-3 weeks. i didn't even get a chance to look at my license one last time before they threw it away. i wanted a chance to look back on the girl i had been for so long - say goodbye to her.
and the heartbreaking part is, i realized that it's going to be SO much harder when i officially change my name over to my new married name. if i feel like a part of my identity has died just bc i got a new license, i can't even begin to imagine the sorrow i will feel when i lose the name i proudly carried for the last 33 years of my life. people always focus on the wonderful things about marriage, but maybe they deliberately leave out these sad things so as not to scare you off. marriage strips away so many things about yourself. it strips your ability to be selfish, your time, your name, and eventually even my body will be stripped away from me to be given over all for the needs of a baby.
i wish i could've said goodbye to that girl. that 16-33 year old girl who had felt so proud the day she passed her road test. the girl who used to sneak the car out when her parents weren't home to practice k-turns in the street. the girl who used to drive late at night to go get cheese fries with her best friends. the girl who used this ID to buy cigarettes for her underage friends. the girl who put organ donor on her license and then her family made her go and change it out of fear the doctors wouldn't save her life. the girl who kissed secret boyfriends in the safety of her car parked far away from home. i wish i could've said goodbye to this girl and all her memories that one card could hold.
i guess this is all part of the circle of life. we move on to different stages of life, and you have to give up things to gain new things. i would never give up the awesomeness of being married just so i can keep a piece of plastic that says NJ on it. but i think it's given me a new perspective of how much i really cherished who i am and everything it took to get me to be who i am. we can't stay forever frozen in our old selves - we have to keep moving forward - evolving into a better version of ourselves. but at least now, i will be better equipped to treasure every moment bc you never know when you'll already be moving into the next phase.
i'm not gonna lie - i cried. no, it's not that i'm some kind of drama queen and i cry at the drop of a hat. but i think the deeper symbolism kept eating at my soul. i've had a nj license since i was 16. my identity has always been a nj girl. when i went to boston, i said i was from nj. when i moved to nyc, i kept my nj license as i always considered that my permanent residence. even after 10 years of living in nyc, i feel proud of the fact that i am not a hard, jaded, cynical, rude new yorker; i am a kind, polite, and helpful nj girl who happens to live in nyc but kept her suburban geniality.
but now, my license says i am a new yorker - and that comes with all the implications that you would associate with a new yorker. as i've been given this new title, it means it has stripped away a part of my original identity. a part of who i am has been removed and been replaced with something else. and it's jarring - and also a bit sad. yes, i acknowledge there are great things with being associated as a new yorker. i am associated with being driven, ambitious, street-smart, cultured, fast. but it doesn't change the fact that a part of my identity has been taken away.
i cried a little after the DMV clerk told me i was done, and i'd receive my new license in 2-3 weeks. i didn't even get a chance to look at my license one last time before they threw it away. i wanted a chance to look back on the girl i had been for so long - say goodbye to her.
and the heartbreaking part is, i realized that it's going to be SO much harder when i officially change my name over to my new married name. if i feel like a part of my identity has died just bc i got a new license, i can't even begin to imagine the sorrow i will feel when i lose the name i proudly carried for the last 33 years of my life. people always focus on the wonderful things about marriage, but maybe they deliberately leave out these sad things so as not to scare you off. marriage strips away so many things about yourself. it strips your ability to be selfish, your time, your name, and eventually even my body will be stripped away from me to be given over all for the needs of a baby.
i wish i could've said goodbye to that girl. that 16-33 year old girl who had felt so proud the day she passed her road test. the girl who used to sneak the car out when her parents weren't home to practice k-turns in the street. the girl who used to drive late at night to go get cheese fries with her best friends. the girl who used this ID to buy cigarettes for her underage friends. the girl who put organ donor on her license and then her family made her go and change it out of fear the doctors wouldn't save her life. the girl who kissed secret boyfriends in the safety of her car parked far away from home. i wish i could've said goodbye to this girl and all her memories that one card could hold.
i guess this is all part of the circle of life. we move on to different stages of life, and you have to give up things to gain new things. i would never give up the awesomeness of being married just so i can keep a piece of plastic that says NJ on it. but i think it's given me a new perspective of how much i really cherished who i am and everything it took to get me to be who i am. we can't stay forever frozen in our old selves - we have to keep moving forward - evolving into a better version of ourselves. but at least now, i will be better equipped to treasure every moment bc you never know when you'll already be moving into the next phase.
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
Never second best
Sy and I were at church last Sunday, and the sermon talked about how in life, you need to have a "right" relationship with everything in order for things to be good. Take your apt - you have a contract with your landlord stating these are the things I will do to be a good tenant, and you will do to be a good landlord. As long as everyone abides by these relationship guidelines, then you will get to live in an apt with no fear of eviction. Same with your job - you have a contract with your boss that you will do x,y,z tasks and you get to keep your job. When you start to not live up to these guidelines or expectations, then the relationship starts to crumble. You could lose your job, you could lose a friend, you could lose your spouse.
The pastor said that in our world, we bring our righteousness to people and ask them to see us as worthy. I show my landlord my financial credentials and he deems me worthy to live in the building. I show my resume to HR and they deem me worthy to work here. I show people my personality and they deem me worthy to be a friend.
We spend all our time trying to measure up. Me, especially - the chronic people pleaser - I am constantly trying to measure up to being the best. I work so hard to be the best sister, the best daughter, the best friend, the best employee, have the best body, have the best material belongings, everything the best. And now, my 4 newest measuring sticks - being the best wife, be the best daughter in law, be the best sister in law, be the best host, be the best cook - it's exhausting!
And then the pastor pointed out that God is the only one we don't have to bring our righteousness to - we don't have to ask Him to deem us worthy or not. He brought His righteousness to me, and then made me righteous. While I sat there and absorbed this thought - I realized what a comfort this is. I'm internally very tired a lot because of all the people pleasing that I do - and all for what? I'm not the best employee, I'm not the best cook, I'm still trying to figure out how to be a good wife, and I'm certainly not winning at the daughter-in-law of the year award! So when I think about how with God, I don't have to try - He already accepts me and loves me and finds me perfect - that is a huge weight off my shoulders.
I think I've spent these first few months of marriage thinking about what I can do better, what Sy can do better, how to make my life better - but I forgot to take a minute to think about how God has loved me. And with Him - I don't have to constantly be trying to make a better version of me bc maybe He'll leave me. He loves me as is, and only wants the best version of me bc that would be best for me - not bc He will score me against some invisible social ruler.
What a sense of relief that is! It's nice to not be measured but just embraced.
The pastor said that in our world, we bring our righteousness to people and ask them to see us as worthy. I show my landlord my financial credentials and he deems me worthy to live in the building. I show my resume to HR and they deem me worthy to work here. I show people my personality and they deem me worthy to be a friend.
We spend all our time trying to measure up. Me, especially - the chronic people pleaser - I am constantly trying to measure up to being the best. I work so hard to be the best sister, the best daughter, the best friend, the best employee, have the best body, have the best material belongings, everything the best. And now, my 4 newest measuring sticks - being the best wife, be the best daughter in law, be the best sister in law, be the best host, be the best cook - it's exhausting!
And then the pastor pointed out that God is the only one we don't have to bring our righteousness to - we don't have to ask Him to deem us worthy or not. He brought His righteousness to me, and then made me righteous. While I sat there and absorbed this thought - I realized what a comfort this is. I'm internally very tired a lot because of all the people pleasing that I do - and all for what? I'm not the best employee, I'm not the best cook, I'm still trying to figure out how to be a good wife, and I'm certainly not winning at the daughter-in-law of the year award! So when I think about how with God, I don't have to try - He already accepts me and loves me and finds me perfect - that is a huge weight off my shoulders.
I think I've spent these first few months of marriage thinking about what I can do better, what Sy can do better, how to make my life better - but I forgot to take a minute to think about how God has loved me. And with Him - I don't have to constantly be trying to make a better version of me bc maybe He'll leave me. He loves me as is, and only wants the best version of me bc that would be best for me - not bc He will score me against some invisible social ruler.
What a sense of relief that is! It's nice to not be measured but just embraced.
Friday, January 8, 2016
Chips and grat...itude
Happy new year everyone!
The holidays were a crazy whirlwind of celebrating, hosting, cooking, shopping, and being exhausted all at the same time. I think the holidays really show you how much you're married bc you suddenly have twice the number of things to do. 2 thanksgivings, 2 Christmases, 2 new year's day. Suddenly my holidays are less about me and more about other people. I don't mind it all that much. I think it was just a shocker that gone are the days where I get to be a lazy kid or young adult where my parents love to pamper me. Once you get married, suddenly, you're an adult and now you have to act like it. It's a shocker! I wish someone had warned me about this!
A lot of things happened over the holiday break, but I wanted to start off this new year with a happy memory. Sy and I love chips. We could eat them all the time. But one of our favorite things to do is sit on the couch and eat chips together as we watch tv/movies. Usually, we are bundled up under the blanket and our arms are tucked into the warmth of our body heat. But usually one of us will sacrificially feed the other one chips. It's a flawless routine. I put one chip in my mouth, give him a chip while I chew on my own. He chews on his own while I feed myself another chip and the cycle continues. To be honest, it's a little annoying to feed him chips. My arm gets tired, my whole limb gets cold bc it's not protected by blanket, and I'm the one who ends up with a chip-encrusted hand. But there's something very satisfying about feeding him. There's a joy in knowing I'm sparing him of the annoyance of this task. There's also a contentment in the cyclical chewing that makes me feel like we are super in sync. And then, when he feeds me doritos and I get to enjoy being the receiver, man, is it glorious to have all my limbs warm and all I have to do is open my mouth and in pops another bite of deliciousness. No work - just pure joy.
It's such a small act of kindness and love. And it's often so forgettable, so mundane. But it's sweet and tender. I hope that even when we're 80, we'll still be doing this. But maybe with like prunes or whatever else old people eat. Who knows? Heck, maybe we'll still be eating doritos as an 80 year old couple! I actually think that would be rather cute!
Here's to cool ranch doritos and sour cream and onion potato chips - 2 of our all-time faves. May there be many more years of this.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Making memories
Part of the reason I started this blog was so that I could keep track of the memories and stories of our newlywed days. Time flies by so quickly, and soon enough, this first year of marriage will be a distant memory. But I want to create a time capsule of our marriage so that we can look back on these days when we're older and weathered, and smile back at these first memories.
Last week, Sy and I went to go buy our very first Christmas tree together. I had never had a fresh tree growing up. So Sy and I agreed that for our first tree as a married couple, we would do it right and get a real tree with that good old pine smell. =)
Here is Sy bringing home our tree!
As I walked beside him, I couldn't stop smiling looking at him carrying that tree on his shoulder. He looked so strong, so manly. In that moment, I felt safe knowing that he was my husband and he was going to be the one to take care of me for the rest of our lives. And this man would be the one who would swoop up our future children into those arms and carry them on his shoulders.
We laughed as we walked back to our car. Sy said that something about carrying that tree made him feel super "married," and how this was such a married thing to do... buy a Christmas tree off the street and carry it home on your shoulders. We only wished that it could be snowing to make it just perfectly quaint.
I hope we will always remember this first Christmas. It was such a sweet and funny night.
Monday, December 7, 2015
Sharing is caring
An interesting thing happened yesterday. Sy and I were checking out a new church, and after the service was over, I noticed that there was a table with coffee and munchkins free to take. I immediately gravitated towards this table, happily grabbed a munchkin, and walked back to Sy as I munched and ate it.
Once he saw me, he asked me, "You only got 1 munchkin? You didn't bring me one?" And I realized, I didn't think about him whatsoever, or if he might want a munchkin. And I should've known... who doesn't want a munchkin?
But here's the back story. I've been going to my previous church for 10 years. And for 10 years, I've had the same routine. After service, I go get a munchkin, talk to some friends, then go out for lunch. I never had anyone to think about to bring extra munchkins for. So, out of force of habit, when I saw these munchkins, I just went for it. It may have been a different location, but to me, it was a revised version of my old routine.
I felt bad after he pointed it. (Especially because he continues to point out that I'm not really good at sharing.) I admit it. I'm not good at sharing. I've never been good at sharing. I do it... but reluctantly. Maybe it's because there was never surplus treats for me growing up. Or maybe it was because my sister is 4 years older, so for many years of my life, I felt like an only child and didn't have to share. But either way, I'm bad at sharing. I'm aware of this shortcoming of mine, and I do work on being a more sharing person, but it definitely doesn't come naturally, and it comes with a lot self-chiding to make myself a better person. Hence - I forgot to get my own husband a munchkin.
I realized that my reluctance to share is also tied to my overall selfishness. I like being selfish. Therefore, I don't like to share. It's my munchkin. I found it. You didn't. Go get your own!
Sigh, marriage just keeps on revealing how selfish I am. It's not a fun process to see your sins exposed, but worse - to have to try to do something about it. Sometimes, when Sy and I are sitting on the couch watching tv, I will want to snack on something, and I forget to offer him some. A large part of me wants to defend myself and say, just ask for a bite! No need to get stinky at me because I forgot to offer you some! But when I think about how I would feel if the tables were turned, and he perpetually forgot to share with me, I'd be sad too. When I turn things around to how I would feel (again, so selfish!), then I really begin to understand how it feels to be on the receiving end of selfishnes.
I really hope that in this first year of marriage (which they say is the hardest year of marriage), we will work out all our kinks, and I will burn away much of my selfishness for the sake of a loving and caring marriage. Sharing really is caring. I just gotta care for him more. Wish me luck!
Once he saw me, he asked me, "You only got 1 munchkin? You didn't bring me one?" And I realized, I didn't think about him whatsoever, or if he might want a munchkin. And I should've known... who doesn't want a munchkin?
But here's the back story. I've been going to my previous church for 10 years. And for 10 years, I've had the same routine. After service, I go get a munchkin, talk to some friends, then go out for lunch. I never had anyone to think about to bring extra munchkins for. So, out of force of habit, when I saw these munchkins, I just went for it. It may have been a different location, but to me, it was a revised version of my old routine.
I felt bad after he pointed it. (Especially because he continues to point out that I'm not really good at sharing.) I admit it. I'm not good at sharing. I've never been good at sharing. I do it... but reluctantly. Maybe it's because there was never surplus treats for me growing up. Or maybe it was because my sister is 4 years older, so for many years of my life, I felt like an only child and didn't have to share. But either way, I'm bad at sharing. I'm aware of this shortcoming of mine, and I do work on being a more sharing person, but it definitely doesn't come naturally, and it comes with a lot self-chiding to make myself a better person. Hence - I forgot to get my own husband a munchkin.
I realized that my reluctance to share is also tied to my overall selfishness. I like being selfish. Therefore, I don't like to share. It's my munchkin. I found it. You didn't. Go get your own!
Sigh, marriage just keeps on revealing how selfish I am. It's not a fun process to see your sins exposed, but worse - to have to try to do something about it. Sometimes, when Sy and I are sitting on the couch watching tv, I will want to snack on something, and I forget to offer him some. A large part of me wants to defend myself and say, just ask for a bite! No need to get stinky at me because I forgot to offer you some! But when I think about how I would feel if the tables were turned, and he perpetually forgot to share with me, I'd be sad too. When I turn things around to how I would feel (again, so selfish!), then I really begin to understand how it feels to be on the receiving end of selfishnes.
I really hope that in this first year of marriage (which they say is the hardest year of marriage), we will work out all our kinks, and I will burn away much of my selfishness for the sake of a loving and caring marriage. Sharing really is caring. I just gotta care for him more. Wish me luck!
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