So I noticed something (well, I should say that A. pointed it out): our little tyke seems to kick way more when I’m somewhere sunny. The kid’s got some SoCal blood in her, it seems! Our neighborhood in SF is not known to be one of the sunnier ones in the City, but when I work in Berkeley, she kicks like crazy. And when we were visiting my parents in SoCal, she was going wild! We might have to move at some point to sunnier climes…
Yesterday I was inspired to cook…you know, one of those days that make you want to try a new recipe, knowing that the same old pasta dish won’t fit the bill. I had some steak tips defrosting but didn’t feel like eating Thai beef salad (where the said steak tips generally end up). Looking online for a good beef recipe, I saw this one for Beef Stroganoff and started craving it right away! I made a few changes to the recipe (used marsala instead of sherry because that’s all I had, seared beef before cooking the onions and mushrooms to give the veggies a meatier taste) and it came out really well.
I was telling my sister about my exciting dinner plans, and her reaction was “how old are you?” Apparently, beef stroganoff is somewhat of a throwback to Midwest, old lady dinner. So I ran with it and made tapioca for dessert! Mmmm…tapioca…sexed up a bit with coconut and cocoa…mmmm…A. and E. weren’t complaining, and all I needed was a hoop skirt to make it a picture perfect evening.
This past weekend A. and I went to my friend S’s baby girl’s first birthday party. It was a great time and Sabrina is just too cute.
Some thoughts: 1) wow, all my friend’s friends have kids. Well, that’s what it seemed like, anyway. Apparently, once you have a child you will be surrounded by people who have kids, and 2) this whole parenting thing might require more energy than what I have. All those kids everywhere…I was completely exhausted and had to take a nap when I got home.
Last night, A. and I went to a book reading given by a friend’s friend, who just published a book on American Chinatowns. Her presentation was really interesting, exploring the meaning of growing up Chinese in having a place like a Chinatown where her family “went to be Chinese.” And I know it’s a bit of a stretch, but it made me think of our baby girl, being born into three societies at once. I’ll explain: I’m Iranian, A’s Italian, we live in the U.S.
The way I’d figured it, the baby would grow up learning Italian (an aside: as my sister pointed out, Italian daycares are all the rage in NorCal! Who knew??) and English, with my parents speaking to her in Farsi. She’ll be a confused little tyke! Will she go wandering in Little Italies around the country trying to find her identity? Or hang out in Iranian stores on Wilshire?
What’s important is that she’ll never have to stand in line at the INS or its Italian equivalent in order to live in the U.S. or Europe. But if she turns out like me or her dad, she’ll probably marry someone from South America, Asia, or Africa, just so she won’t miss out on the whole immigrant experience!
Today was the first day that I felt extensive kicking and movement…we might have a little gymnast on our hands! Apparently, I will be feeling the movement intermittently for a few weeks, at which point the movement will start to be constant. Can’t wait!
Third Culture 