So, recently I've been going through a baby-crazy phase. I know I am only 23, but in the olden days I would be a mother of 3 by now. In fact, biologically my body is ready to have a child. Emotionally, financially and mentally I am nowhere near prepared.Still, I can already imagine how heartachingly joyful it will feel to hold my child for the first time, and how I'll feel such pride and glee everytime my little one does something adorable, which will be all the time.But then I think Holy S, with that incredible feeling of warmth and unconditional love for the cutest human being you've ever seen, also comes a few formidable items, namely responsibility and fear. When I think of all the sharp edges, cement steps, waiting germs, deep pools, rabies-inflicted dogs, and sick sick child predators among countless other uglies, I want to be Nemo's father. but then, No, a child can't live well or normally without having experienced some pain. Ok- this post was not meant to define my principles in parenting...The other day, I asked my mom if she thought I was cute as a baby, thinking there could only be one answer (that is, "yes"). No, instead I got a pause and an "eh" face and then a very straight "You were okay." My mom is kind of a b, but truth is, she was right. I was pretty average as far as cute goes, but I would have loved me. See below for photos. I chose some of the frightening, altogether embarrassing ones intentionally.It's weird that I used to be so tiny. Also weird that there's a whole chunk of my life that I will never be able to access with my own mind, ever. I guess that is also true for the many forgettable seconds we live everyday, because if you asked me what i was doing last Tuesday at 6:57 p.m. PST, not a clue.
Patrick saw this and asked "What did your father play basketball in the 80s?" Answer: Yes, but only for fun, not professionally.
I like us together.
We're like tiny asian tourists. That is a toy camera in my hands.