Alternate working title: Our Filipino Amway Baby.
My hope for this blog is to post once a week. I can't promise that a post will be made while I'm on vacation, but since that's not going to happen for a while, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, shall we take a stroll down memory lane? Let me know if you get scared and need your hand held.
When I first came to the States, it was June. I had been separated from my mother for at least a year. At that point, I can't remember the last time I saw her. When I see her at the airport, I am surprised: my mother is pregnant! She didn't want to tell me on the phone because she said she wanted to "surprise" me.
I was a little...cynical. Granted at my tender age of six (going on seven in less than two months), I didn't know what that fetid taste in my mouth was called. I just got away from my younger brother Jon, and I finally had my mom all to myself! I traveled thousands of miles only to be "surprised" that I had more competition to come?! Great.
I had hoped and prayed for a baby sister. But alas, somehow my parents knew they were going to have a boy. As my mom's due date in September neared, we had a family meeting about what the baby's name will be. My parents wanted his name based on initials. It's the Filipino way, after all. My mom threw out JJ, which I promptly shot down because one of our neighbors down the street had the name JJ. Which shouldn't have mattered because that was back in the Philippines, but you, dear reader, also have to realize that I just emigrated and didn't realize these things didn't matter anymore. Plus, I was only six years-old!
Alternatively, my mom threw out RJ, which I also promptly shot down. RJ was JJ's brother, as in the neighbors down the street from where we lived in the Philippines. I remember that even though I was totally against it, my mom ignored me and we started thinking of names that could fit the initials R and J.
I don't really remember the ensuing discussion for possible names at this point. All I know is the final decision was Richard Jay. Seems arbitrary enough, doesn't it?
At the time, both our parents worked for Amway. We didn't think this fact had anything to do with RJ. That is, until it was revealed sometime later that RJ was named for the co-founders of Amway: Richard DeVos and Jay Van Andel. This is a fun little fact that is brought up every now and then for a familial chuckle. And now, I share this endearing story for all to chuckle along with me.
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9 comments:
I think this entry will be among the weakest of posts. It's hard to follow the trufas incident. Might I suggest "the ipod is on shuffle/Imma fall asleep during a crucial moment in our road trip and make you navigatorless."
Isn't that story more about me than you? Though only that moment is really about me, the rest is about you. I can incorporate it in the near future.
And yeah, this story doesn't quite have the same impact as "Truf about Trufas," but it's still a funny story that most people enjoy hearing.
Or maybe I should talk about your third nipple? That was my alternate post of the week I was considering...
More photographic support needed, if possible.
Ian, pics will be posted intermittently, though they may not always have a story to go along with it.
Coincidentally, one of my projects in general is to scan old pics from childhood just to get them digital.
So it occurred to me while I was in the shower this morning (why I ponder life and other random things in the shower, I don't know, it just happens) that Ian was requesting photographic evidence of the third nipple. Is this the case?
I expect you to know better than to post pics of my former skin tag.
So I can tell the story but not post the pic?
I was born with a large skin tag right under my left nipple, within the areola. I finally decided to let Jessamine cut it off a few years ago. There, story told.
Man, that's not a story! I'm going to have to include more details in my version of it...
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