The Primordial Era of My Youngest

The coming of age of children…translated…

When I was sorting through my youngest daughter’s toys to give away to a neighbor, a box of Chinese chess got my memories going.

Back when my youngest was born, I was already, an older woman.  Got my maternity leave set, started as a full-time mother.  After my husband and my eldest daughter went out to work and to school, it was me versus my infantile youngest

By month seven you sit up, by eight, you start crawling, by nine months, start teething, at around eight months of age, I’d mopped the floors of the hallways clean every morn, put my daughter down onto the floors, for her, to exercise in crawling around.  She had a huge diaper on, drooled, slowly, crawled, forward, it’d reminded me of the slowly moving Komodo dragon.  It’d been told, that as Komodo bit the preys, it’d not, hurried to chase them down, because as the biting happened, the toxin was in its saliva, and the prey will eventually become weakened by the toxins to escape.

from this…photo from online

And, because my eldest had, swallowed her strawberry shaped hairpins into her stomach while I wasn’t watching her, I’d, cleaned off the hallways completely.  As my youngest started, making her rounds, she could find, nothing, she’d, drooled on, looking around her, like she was, searching for that, prey.  I’m thinking, that my feet were what she saw the most, but, my feet weren’t worth her bite.

But, history is always, surprising.

“She’d made it into her older sister’s room while I was on the phones mom.  When I’d found her, she was, chewing and enjoying that rubber band!  Look, this is the remains of the broken piece of the rubber bands she’d chewed up and swallowed!”, I’d told my husband who was coming in after work.

Because we’d believed, that our youngest didn’t swallow too much of the rubber band into her systems, and she was breathing normally, with huge appetite, my husband believed, that she will, eventually, poop out the rubber band, and we’d, let it happen, naturally.

almost UP! Photo from online

Because the tiny primordial creatures still can’t understand human words, there’s no way to reason with her.  Other than mopping harder, I’d dragged the traditional vine crib next to the phones, when she is crawling around, and someone called, I’d, picked her up, placed her into her crib, talked on the phones, and watched what she was doing.  The crib was, fully, corralled, and, being imprisoned angered my young child, then, I’d, handed her a box of Chinese chess to play with.  As she’d observed the pieces fully, she’d started,  picking up the pieces and throwing them around, with her arms and legs gaining more muscles, she could now, straighten her self upright, and, the trajectory was, farther, and farther now.

And that’s how I’d, managed through my youngest daughter’s, primordial, era.

So, this showed the developments of the infant, the infant puts everything into her/his mouth, because that’s how the infant gets to know the world, and, as parents, we would worry, what the HELL did my child swallow?  And we’d, become, too worried, and, we may prevent them from touching, for their own, safety purposes, but by preventing them to put whatever it is they come into contact with into their mouths, we’re, depriving them of  how they know the world, through their, oral sensations, and if these stages of earlier childhood developmental milestones weren’t met correctly, then, problems would surface later on as we became, adults, like Dr. Sex stated.

to finally, this! Steadying themselves with furnitures to learn to walk around…photo from online

So, rather than preventing young infant children from putting things into their mouths, just allow them to grab whatever they can get their hands on and have a taste, because, by becoming overly protective won’t do them any good.  And, the children will go from all fours, to standing on twos, unsteadily, then, they will take that very first step, and before you know it, they will be, running around for you to, chasing them everywhere, because that, is how children should grow.

You are My, Tail

As the children drives us CRAZY, we had this, thought, but only, for a, split second’s time…translated…

“You are my, tail, which is the PROOF of me, never becoming, human~”, in a moment of upset rising in me, these were the words that came out of me, toward my own young, without, letting the words run past my brains first.  At that very moment, at the intersection outside of the supermarket, the cars and the pedestrians were, rumbling, by.

how the children clung onto us, mothers…photo from online

It was in the early evenings, everybody was, rushing home then, including, me.  Only my children, they weren’t, in a, rush.  Ru was insistent on placing the shopping basket we used right into the casing, Cheng-Cheng insisted on pushing the shopping cart, into the line, and all of these, were what we’re, supposed to do, but they moved, so very, slowly, like that long, heavy, thick tail, weighing me down, slowing me, I was, so agitated I’d wanted to, chop them all, OFF!

I knew, that these hurtful words, will let my eight-year-old daughter, Cheng-Cheng know, that mom’s, displeased again, but, at age four, Ru had no idea of what was, going on with me.  As we got home, Ru inquired, “mom, why am I your, tail?”, toward his, innocent, face, I really couldn’t, bear explain to him, the cruelness of this, metaphor, besides, he probably wouldn’t, understand it anyways.  And so, I’d, changed it into, a fact that’s, not really, a lie, “because I have to take you guys, wherever I go, and can’t, cut you both, off of me, so you’re, my, tail”, Ru was really pleased at this, “yay!  I’m mommy’s tail~~~”, his simple joys made me, feel, so ashamed of my self then.

Recalled back a couple of years ago, I was stuck in the abyss of childrearing, I’d read a volume on childrearing, there was this passage in the book, that’s, still, thrilling to this, very day, “if the children are blessed, they will be born to a mother, who can fulfill their, emotional needs, and can give them the responses of love—a mother who will, for the sake of raising up her own young correctly, turn herself, into, a tool that’s used for this, specific, purpose—then, the healthy sense of the self will start, growing, inside the young children.”, I’m more than certain, this was, the scariest words on childrearing I’d, ever, thumbed, across.  The writer believed, that the mother needed to, put down her own needs, her self, to turn herself into, a vessel, to raise her young with.

So, this is what the role of the mother is, to exist, to make human beings, not to become, a human being herself.  As an evolved ape, rationally, I can understand this sort of an interpretation, but, emotionally, that’s not, viable to me at all.  After all, before I was a mother, I was once, a human, being.

illustration from UDN.com…grocery shopping with her two young children

But, what does “being human” mean to, me?  Only to be free, to live at my own pace of life?  If I’m without my children, can I really, live like, so?  As I walked, I’d, contemplated on all of these.  At the same time, I’d felt, that tail bone, wagging, again.  Turned my head to look, yep, I got my tail all right.  If I can, will I, chop it, off?  As I thought of how the blood would come out flying, thinking about how my kids would be, crying, thought of the enormous amount of pain I will be in, for chopping part of my body off.  Ouch!  That hurt, was enough, to make me note, that even if I could, I wouldn’t be willing, to cut off my own, young children from me.

Yep, I’m a mother then.  I’d given my self, two extra, tails, and this lifetime, I’m, destined to, drag them all around, be with them, as they, slowly, mature into, humans.

But before then, let’s just, be monkeys together, and keep on, surviving in the, jungle of our, lives, rolling around on the ground, swinging from the trees, get angry, feel happy, together then!

And so, this is, the entanglement of love, that mothers feel toward their children when they misbehaved themselves, like how in a restaurant, where you’re supposed to, SIT and eat, they’d started, chasing each other, like the residents of a, MAD house?  Or how you’re, already late to work, and, your children needed your, undivided attention?  All of that, the women in the world, are faced with, from day to day, and, it’s, only normal, that the thoughts like this woman’s, surfaces from time to time, but, we’d all still, get settled back into the roles of mothers, because we need to, because the children relied on us, to keep them safe, health, and raise them up, into, upright, full-grown, well-adapted, human, beings, then they would’ve, graduated from the monkeys, to upright, man!

The Father’s Affection in the Salted Milk Tea

The love and affection toward his children, shown, and expressed through his, actions, translated…

I brought back the salted goat’s milk tea to share with my coworker, which I brought back from Mongolia, he stated happily, “Great, I shall bring it home on Friday for the kids.”, his wife and children live in the midstrips, and he can only return home on the weekends to be with his family.  I’d found, that whenever he’d received something nice to eat or to use, he’d always, saved it for his children; even if, it was, two packs of, salted milk tea, that was, his way of, showing love to his children.

The following day, I’d handed him, two more bags of the tea, told him, “the children had some, as their father, do treat yourself well too, here’s one for your wife to try.”

Recalled how when I was younger, my father would, prepare the fulfilling lunchboxes for the family, and yet, he’d not, eaten any.  “I want to save it for my children”, the love of the father passed through the time and eras, and in this time of ours, which is, comparably economically well, the show of affection and love to the children stayed, exactly, the same.

So, this is how as parents, we always, save the best for our own young, because that’s what parents do, they want everything they never had the chances of having for their own young, so their children can, grow up way better than they had.

Underneath the Ginkgo Tree

How you believe, it’s the tree where you’d lain all of your, beloved dogs to rest underneath, that’s, blessed you, to have your, daughter…translated…

Awanaoko, the Japanese writer had a fairytale called “The Window of the Fox”, it described how a hunter met a fox that owned a dye shop, the fox dyed his thumbs and index fingers on his hands blue, had him use his dyed fingers to make a rhombus, placed it in front of his eyes, looking in, and that allowed him to see things and people he’d missed which are, already, gone.

Although I don’t have the blue dye, but I still, followed suit, made a window with my index fingers and thumbs, through my mind’s eyes, stared, at the, Gingko tree in my yard.

There’s the fog that came rising up within my rhombus window, the mint, the leaves from the herbs next to the trees, had the dews, inside a small hole on the ground, leapt some sort of a spirit.  One, two, three, four, I’d, taken an inhale, they were, the pets I’d owned, for many years on end!  They kept on, digging in the soil, and would, start, rolling on the ground, licking each other gently, nipped at one another for fun, played to not realizing what time it is under that tree, and the sight, it’d made the emotions came out of my, eyes.

I was, troubled by infertility, and loved my dogs like they were my own flesh and blood, after my first dog died of an accident, I’d wanted to, return him to the earth, and, considered how the potted plants on our balcony wasn’t fitting, I’d asked for consent from my in-laws, and the two of them agreed, to allow us to bury our pet’s ashes in their garden, underneath this, Gingko tree.

A few years later, the rest of the three dogs we had all died one by one, and, we’d, lain them to rest underneath the gingko tree too, so they can, all go together, in heaven.

The gingko tree was a gift from my father-in-law’s own father, they’d started raising it since it was a sapling, to date, the tree is already, over thirty years of age.  Mostly, gingko isn’t that easy to cultivate in the plains here, but, the ginkgo in my husband’s family’s yard was growing tall and strong, from before, I’d not asked the species, and, reason why I’d lain my dogs to rest here, was only because of how Gingko is used, in slowing down the process of the mind deteriorating.

illustration from UDN.com

From then on, I’d started, noting how the seasons had, made the Gingko so multifaceted, in the summers, the branches were strong, the leaves, flourishing, in autumn, the leaves turned to gold, in winter, everything was, gone, silent, waiting for springtime, again.

After the nuclear blast of Hiroshima, it was said, that on the earth that death tolled over, gingko is the fastest growing, and it didn’t grow malformed; and to this day, the gingko is noted as the symbol of “hope” by the locals.

Many years ago, my husband and I finally became parents, my daughter is now five, and I believe, that it was from the blessings of the gingko tree, as well as from my furry babies, that’s, made my daughter happen.

And now, I’m still like the hunter in the fairytale, made the rhombus window, to stare at the gingko tree outside, as that wasn’t just, the final resting place of my, beloved dogs, but it also, helped sown down the seed of hope as well.

And so, this is the meaning of the tree to you, a place where you’d lain your animals to rest, and you’d, cultivated the tree with much love, and now, as you finally became a mother, you’d, attributed everything you’re blessed with to the tree.

My Mother, Unafraid of the Cold

How this mother had, blocked out the cold, so her child could be, living warmly, and that’s made her, totally, desensitized to the cold weather, and she’d become, this, tough wall that blocked out the winds and rains for her own young, the stable support that her child needed…translated…

My mother went on a trip, and she’d sent the photos of the snow sceneries.

For her, being raised in a fisher village, with the sun shining all year round, I suppose, this was, the very first time, she was, outside of her, comfort, zone?  But, in my memories, my mother with the blood of Tainan flowing through her veins, didn’t fear the cold one bit, she wasn’t like me, when the temperatures started dropping, I’d started, letting out my, yelps.

blocking out everything that’s bad that might happen in her child’s, life…photo from online

In my high school year, she’d gone out to workout at four in the morn, to buy the breakfasts, by 6:30 she’d given me a lift to school, and this continued, come rain or shine, or cold.  Every time the cold fronts came, the moment I’d exited out of the house, I’d, started, pulling my neck in, rubbing my hands together, and, breathing hot air onto my hands, called out, “it’s way too cold!”, while my mother, straddled onto the scooter, always wore her coat inside out, and told me, “Come, come and hide behind me, put your hands into my coat, get close to my body, that way, you won’t be, cold, anymore!”

I’d ducked behind my mother, the cold winds through my ears cut my skin like a sharpened knife, my legs started, quivering in the thin slacks, but, my upper body that’s, closed onto my mother’s back, it’d felt, oh so, warm, and surely, I didn’t, feel, cold, anymore.

a mother who’d sheltered her young from the storms…illustration from online

I’d asked her, “aren’t you cold, mom?”, she’d allowed the cold wind to blow over her head, tilted her head back at me, told, “nope!  I’d gone on my workout early in the morn, and I had, this, thick cold, not cold at all!”, and, that got me past the three cold winters of my, high school, years.

I watched these photos of my mother, traveling to the north, she’d wrapped herself inside the green coat, the grass green, in the white snow, the message without the punctuation markings stated, “it’s really cold right now, and, they told us it will drop to subzero later on.”

And so, this is how a mother, keep the cold away from her child, she’d, protected her young, so her young would NEVER had to, weather through the coldness of the weathers in winter, and, the mother may not be naturally unafraid of the cold weather, but it’s how she’d, made herself adapt, as a mother, who’d, blocked EVERYTHING that might injure, or cause her own young to feel, uncomfortable out of her child’s, way that’s, made her, desensitized to the cold weather.

Touching, Two Poems

How the poet became, more aware of his own senses, his own body, with his young daughter’s, pressing down on the various areas of his, body, translated…

I.

At This Time, My Daughter Loved Using Her Year-Old Fingers

Like the Snail’s Warmish, Cold Tentacles

Like the World in a Video Playing on

I Got Curious, to What She Was, Hearing

I’d Copied Her, Pressing Down those Bumps, My Heart Started, Murmuring Low

Like I Was Pressing Down on the Tables, Chairs, or Even the, Trees

Some of the Wood Had Gone Through My Fingers

Entered Inside of Me

And it was Like Pressing the Power Button

Turning a Machine on

I’d Tried to Press Down on a Star that Came Before My Eyes

Like Closing One Eye

Then, Half of a Night Sky Started

Glowing within Me

II.

My Young Daughter Pressed Down on My Beer Belly

It’d, Moved Me to the Moments

Before My Wife Went into Labor, How My Belly Started, Firming Up

And Felt Her Kicking Me Inside

Like Pressing Down Hard on the Buttons

My Young Daughter Pressed Down on My Chest

I Thought I Was, Lactating

The Feels of a Mother, is it Like that,

A Husband Like Me, Experiencing the Two Separate Heartbeats Inside

And I’d Felt, Being a Woman Was, Too, Difficult

Then She’d, Pressed Down on My Nose

The Question that Tingled to Come Out

“Who are, You?”

So, this is how you were made, aware, of how you’re a parent, by your own young child’s interactions with you, and that’s just, the wonders of interactions that you can share with your infant and toddlers, they will, surprise you, with the questions of life, and this kid was only turning one, imagine what she’ll do to you, as she grows, older.

I’d Entered This World, Anew, with You, on Fatherhood

Making these moments, eternal, the love of a father, expressed, toward his own, newborn, infant, son…translated…

With the birth of my child, Sky, there’s, that sense of, nostalgia to me.

My wife was pregnant, it’s our, first, I’m so very, excited.  But, that’s how dads are, after all, it isn’t, our bodies, other than being excited, there’s, not much of, other sorts of, feelings that come with it.  No feelings of being kicked in the stomach, no morning sickness, no alters of our senses of smells or, tastes.  Daddies can only, think about how moms are feeling, what they’re, going, through, and try to be kind to our wives, and accompany them, feeling what our wives are, feeling.

A little over nine months now, through the stomach, along with the ultrasound pictures surrounded by the darkness, it’d felt, a bit, empty to me.

I know this should be something exciting to me.  Becoming a dad should feel like this, but, what I’m faced with, is this, tiny, wrinkly, infant, with never ending diapers I needed to change, feeding the breastmilk, pushing the infant back to the nurse in the box, getting my infant child back to feed the breast milk my wife pumped, back to the nurse, back to breast feed, back to the nurse, back again, for the, breast feeding, not enough, still, not enough yet………this is the very first offspring I have in my arms, even as I’d, read up on everything about taking care of a newborn baby, heard all the others’ experiences, I’d never expected anything like this.

and, here’s a song that showed, just how, fatherhood, feels, off of Youtube

Haven’t compared to any other infant, but I’m certain, that Sky is sensitive, and liked to cry a whole, lot.  Whether it be us or him, we’re all, trying to, adapt to this, brand new schedule, way of, life.  Once, Sky started, crying again in the middle of the nights, and, infants always cried with all their, might, I’d picked him up from his crib, his cheeks, completely redden from the crying, I’d worried it might wake my wife, carried him into the living room.  Not wanting to lose out, I believe, that my rocking him, will eventually, put him back to, sleep, again.  I’d paced in the living room with him in my arms, started singing the tunes to him, and, after a whole hour, he still, cried on.

The crying filled up my home then, the moonlight came in through the screen door, that light illuminated his tear filled, eyes, and I’d, started, crying too then.  Because I saw thirty years ago, in the old house on Zhongzhen Road in Hualien, on the second floor, matted with the straw mats, the wooden bed and the, chair, the twinkling lamp light, the dark of, nights, how mom used to, rock me to, sleep.  Although, the players had, changed, I’d, come to understand, what’s inside my mother’s eyes, when she looked at the, infantile me, thirty odd years, ago.

And I’d started, talking to, Sky then, gently, from within, my own, heart.  And just like that, he’d fallen, sound, asleep.

Then, I’d, taken Sky back to his, crib, and whispered my final words of the night to him, “I will, always and forever love you, I, promise!”

So, this is how the father, expressed his love to his own, infant son, in this moment of intimacy that only the two of them shared in the nights, when the man was awakened by his infant’s crying, and these are the moments that the son will NEVER remember, but the father forever, will!

The Wishes of the, Parents

This is, what a, good interaction with one’s own, in-laws, looked, like, and it’s because of the older generation’s not expecting anything from their own, children, that’s made this interaction, so smooth and, wonderful…translated…

We’d originally thought, that as our children went to Taichung to find work, that they would both, root there, in the big cities, but when my son was readying to marry, the plans turned, upside, down, my daughter-in-law filed for a transfer, to the government offices of Changwha, and, my husband and I started, searching for a place for them, and, as we’d looked back, we’d found, that they’d, found a place of their own, close to our, home.

As I’d watched many of the soaps on mother and daughter-in-law interactions, with the friends’ words of advices, “don’t talk too much, don’t bother them, that, is the best way of getting along with the in-laws”, I can understand that privacy is most important in the younger generations, who says, that we all, have to, live together, as a, family?  Keeping some distance, to make our interactions, more, beautiful.  I’d told them, “mom will NOT come to your house on my own, unless you guys need me to; if you want to come home for supper, call me a day early, so I can, prepare your, favorite dishes.”

After they were wed, they lived sweet together, and they’d found nanny on their own after they have children, they are, very independent, I have, NO, worries over them.  Until as I’m ready to retire, when my youngest grandson turned, one, I’d thought, that the grandchildren are at the age when they’re growing, and are in need of the nutritious foods, then I’d started, suggesting to my son and daughter-in-law, that they could come home for supper more, they’d agreed to it too, and so we started, sharing, the beautiful time as a family, together.

As my daughter came to live with her husband’s family that was only about a ten-minute ride away, she’d also, wanted to take after her older sister-in-law, moving out, I’d told her seriously, “not every mother-in-law is like me, when you and your husband want to come back home, do discuss it with your, in-laws, first.”, and, gladly, our in-laws, are, very kind and open to it, they’d found a mansion right on the back of our home, with a front yard and a garage outback.

When my daughter just got wed, we’d often shared the following conversations, “can I come home for supper?”, “go as your mother-in-law”, “can I bring my laundry home to wash?”, “no, buy your own washer!”, “Can I bring my garbage home to toss?”, “you’re too busy at work, so that’s, fine!”

And slowly, from seeing them every day, it became, that I rarely saw them, in an, entire, month, finally, my daughter’s, independent, and adapted to her own, family life, and I’m, very glad.

And yet, with their own families that got started, they’d not, forgotten about their families of origin, on the weekends, my  son would be the cook, making the exotic foreign foods for us, my daughter-in-law would buy us things; my daughter and son-in-law would call us and ask “do you want the drinks or the desserts”, when they went out to dine.  All of these acts of filial piety, it’d made us, really happy.  When they need something that they don’t have at home, we are, their, shop, and this home of ours became this, rest stop on the freeways, we’re, closely related, but not too, clingy to one another.

Modern day people, they’d often live and work away from their, families, and, there are, rarely any chances of our children’s staying close by to us after they were, married, I got to see my families often, I’m truly, blessed.  And, I’m especially thankful for heaven, for giving my children the perfect loves of their, lives, I’m sure, that this, is the biggest wish of all the parents, for their, children.

And so, this is due to how close you are with your children, and you must’ve set up this sort of amicable interaction means from when they were younger, for them to, want to, be near you now that they’re, all, grown up, and, you are kind toward your own, daughter and son-in-law, loving them, like they were, your, own children too.

When I Took My Son Out for a Walk

In interacting with your own child, you’d, somehow, regained what’s, lost to you, long, long ago, that slight, scent of your own, childhood, innocence…translated…

We’d played those games of, selling ice cream, and, you’d, naively believed, that those, pebbles were, actually, strawberry, flavored, and started, shoving them by the handfuls into your, mouth.  I was shocked, and told you to spit them out, you’d started, chuckling.

We’d picked up the sticks, and drew the stars, and moons on the sands, you insisted on taking the sticks and the nuts home.  Why would you think they’re, treasures?

illustration from UDN.com

The golden spots from the sun shining down, crawled onto your little hands and legs, why are you, so, intrigued, by these, shadows of  lights that, illuminated, all over, you?

You’d watched that puddle for a very, long time, said there was a doggy inside, clouds and, airplanes too.  The splashes from the puddle danced with you, until the puddle became, too, diminished, and our shadows, grew, longer than, long.  You’d pointed, and called out loud, “M~~OON!”, I’d smiled and responded to you, “That’s a streetlamp!  Time to go!”, you’d responded, “NO!”, why is it, that the world of a child, knows, no, time?

Strolling with you, it’s always, waken that child inside of me.  Why can I, no longer, roll around in the piles of pebbles, like a, child, anymore?

This is on noting how your own, innocence is, lost a long, long, long ago, but gladly, you have a young child, who reminded you that it’s okay, to allow your inner child to come out to play every now and then…

Ways We Can Raise an Emotionally Mature Child

I Am Listening, Child