I finally got it. You always see these job descriptions that ask for a “strategic thinker”. And I ask myself, Am I one? What strategic thinking have I done? I mostly execute. When have I come up with the idea? Then I realized…strategic thinking is not about the idea. It’s about how you got to it and how you vet it out. It’s about the questions you ask and they way you probe. It’s about how you determine what to do and whether to do it.
We just got back from our first class at The Little Gym. It’s pretty cool. They basically build the kids’ confidences by getting them into gymnastics. I have to say my kid is a natural. Not because she has great balance, she doesn’t, but she doesn’t fear death. About the only things she is afraid of are tigers and my brothers. I can’t tell which. They sound similiar in Chinese.
There were 4 other kids there and their adults. Mostly moms and one grandma. At the beginning, the teacher said it was a non-competitive class. The kids could run around if they like. The only time they would stop the kid is for safety reasons. Of course they all ran around. And the grandma kept threatening her grandson that if he didn’t behave, they were going home. The teacher kept repeating that the kids could run around if they want. They would join in when they think it’s interesting. She tried really hard not to look directly at the grandma as she said this.
Yeah, yeah. I know. I am being competitive in relaying that. The non-competitive part is for the kids. Not the parents. If we weren’t competitive, we wouldn’t be paying $12 for our kids to run around in a padded room, learning “gymnastics” for 45 minutes.
But really, my kid was an angel. She walked in a circle perfectly. Ran perfectly. Rolled down the slope perfectly. She listened to all the teacher’s instructions. Didn’t push other kids out of the way. Wait. That wasn’t my kid. Mine was the holy terror who at one point just stood there and screamed her head off. But she dunked the balls in the basket really well. Maybe she will be a pro-baller. Lord knows she’s got the tantrums down.
I was in the local field office and one of the service guys there was nice enough to give me an extra Plantronics amplifier and headset that was lying around. I have been trying to use it for the last week, but a) the headset bugs me and b) no one can hear me on the the other end. I was going to get the headset that just wraps around your ear anyway, so I broke down and bought both the headset and amplifier in case the issue with volume is the amplifier. I just got it through eBay today, so haven’t tested it yet. Stay tuned.
I am currently searching for a good electronic Chinese-English dictionary that does handwriting recognition and speaks. It’s amazing how few reviews there are out there on these gadgets. Well, reviews in English. I can’t read Chinese very well which is why I need the thing in the first place.
So far, I know that there are about 4 or 5 brands and most are geared toward Chinese speakers trying to learn English. I guess the market for ABC’s who feel guilty about being so removed from their heritage that they can’t read a short fable to their kid without making up words does not compare.
And who knew? Salt Lake City is not the Asian mecca I was hearing about. Oh, that was in a dream. I don’t even know where to find Chinese books around here, much less a dictionary. I will be heading to the Bay Area next week. So this dictionary is on my to-do list. Right behind visiting the Ichiban snack shop in Cupertino. I discovered it in Hong Kong and am addicted to the little packs of nuts.
My daughter started in the 2 year old room on Monday. She is such a big girl now. Boo hoo. She’s been coming home saying all kinds of things. And she imitates everything.
Last night, I sneezed and she said “Bess You.” Where did she learn that? We don’t teach manners in this house. Joking. I am a stickler for manners and grammar. The thing that pains me is that every word out of her mouth is in English. I speak to her exclusively in Chinese. But my little wave is nothing against the tide of day care.
But I know she understands me and can say what I say. For instance, on Saturday, I left the newspaper with the directions for where we were going on the roof of the car. I didn’t realize this until about halfway into our trip. I said, “Damn.” And you hear “damn.” Sounded just like me, except squeakier. With the same inflection and everything. “Honey, you need to watch what you say.” This from the man who wants to teach our daughter to say “butthead” to his mom just to get a reaction.
I have always been behind the scenes on the Exec call I run, only piping up when I need to and only with one or two words. But yesterday I hosted the whole thing. I got a call about 15 minutes to start time that the regular host was tied up and would join the call as soon as she could. Ok. Big, DEEP breath. I can do this.
The call starts with the ususual spiel. I found that the role of the host/facilitator was to nudge and confirm. Nudge the folks so they don’t get too deep into the details and confirm what I heard and what I understood the action accepted was. I didn’t need to be the expert, because the account teams and Execs speak for themselves.
Aside from my heart beating so loud I could hardly hear what people said and my tongue swelling in my mouth when I tried to speak, it was kind of fun. Now I know why the regular host always asks me who would be representing the account team on the call. For one account, I thought I heard Hans, but it was Sven. I kept saying, “Hans…”. No answer. And since this was a conference call, we couldn’t just look around the table and have him say, “There is no Hans here. You must mean me, Sven.” Felt like a big Dodo.
My kid threw up last night. I heard this whimpering from her room and found her sitting in her crib pointing at the throwup. “Ucky.”
I cleaned her up. Cleaned the bed up and put her back to bed. A little while later. Whimpering alternating with yelling. Went to check on her again. She threw up again. Cleaned her and her bed up again. Now, she refuses to sleep in her own bed. So I bring her to our bed.
She lies down for awhile. Then sits up. I ask her if she needs to throw up. She nods. “Ngow”. (Chinese for throw up). I grab her and run toward the bathroom and lean her over the sink. She throws up. I clean her up. I clean myself up (didn’t get her to the sink in time). My husband cleans my side of the bed. She wants to sleep in her bed now. I put her down. We crawl back into bed.
This morning. For her, it’s like nothing ever happened. She just wants the Wiggles. But my husband and I are dragging. And I still need to clean her sheets and clothes. The joys of parenthood.
There’s a chinese porcelain sale going on this month and this is the last week. I went yesterday with my kid to check it out. I have been looking for some big planters for my porch and a set of Fuk Luk Sau.
I see a couple of Foo Dogs that look promising and see out the owner to ask the price. $300 for the set. Hmm. A bit out of my range. I then ask about Fuk Luk Sau. He guides me to a set that is the only thing in the whole place under glass. He then explains that he needs to ask his partner how much the set costs. He takes a step a way from me. I think he is going toward a phone because there is no one in sight. He lifts a table cloth and bends down to wake his partner. His partner was sleeping on a couch of sorts under the table.
That’s when I realized they lived there. They were like traveling salesmen that just lived where they worked. It reminded me of China. In my dad’s village, the shopkeepers and their families all lived in their shops. So if you see clothes hung up outside the local convenience store, they are not for sale, they are laundry. You do what you need to do to survive and save. You do not squander money on renting a place just for sleeping in.
I think about what folks here in the US expect. A home separate from their work for one. And a home that is their own. No sharing. Even if they can’t really afford it. I was listening to this story on NPR about this girl that, with government assistance, was able to get her own apartment, but when the money ran out, she had no money and an infant to care for. My question was why did she not share an apartment with someone so she could save some money? Now, not only is she homeless, her baby is too. Of course, when I was in college, I had to have my own room. By not sharing a room and saving money, I am still paying for that Freshman CAD class today.
My cleaning lady was here today. I love the days she’s here because it is the one day every two weeks that my house is not littered with toddler toys.
I am not a cleaner. I’ll pick up stuff and wipe down the kitchen counters, but I loathe cleaning bathrooms or floors.
When we moved here, I insisted that we hire someone. Cleaning a 4000sqft house is a much larger task than cleaning a 900sqft house. My husband is cheaper than I am. He could not justify paying someone $20/hr to clean the house. That is until I told him he could do the cleaning and save the money. The next day we were interviewing cleaning companies.
My main job requires me to hunt folks down to accept actions arising from issues that account teams raise. Most of these action owners end up being Sr Execs.
Most of them are really blunt and to the point. Fortunately for me, I have been in the job long enough to know that the sarcasm or *sighs* are not personal. Otherwise, I would constantly be a ball on the floor.
I just got an email from one of my favorite Execs. He’s really great and helps make the program I run successful. His responses always crack me up. They usually consist of a line or two with a hint of sarcasm and no BS.