You look for Hot Asian Girl?

Actually, I was going to call this something else. This is the first calendar year in about 20 that none of my children are playing soccer. I get a lot of spam, because I do most of my business, family and whatever else, online. One of the spams I can count on every day is that one above—“Hey, you look for Hot Asian Beauty?” or some variety. Which makes me roll my eyes, because DO THESE PEOPLE EVEN DO THEIR RESEARCH? Guess what demographic I’m in, Googleanalytics? That’s right-The Hot Asian Girl-demographic! But I’m not buying or selling anything and the most exciting thing I do in virtual reality is play with Animojis. The real reason I’m “Hot” is because I have night sweats that would wake Satan. Seriously, spammers, see the meme below. All you got right was that I’M Asian and hot, physiologically speaking. But I’m also a girl. So, no. Not looking for Hot Asian girls.

SOCCER/DANCE/FOOTBALL MOMS AND BEING “HOT”

For about 20 years, either one or all four of our children were on a soccer team. Usually, there were at least two playing. And they always needed coaches. Sometimes, Vaughn and I would be coaching two different games and trying to watch our high school age kids play out of the corner of our eyes. Being a soccer mom or dad in our house meant more than just driving, we were in it up to our eyeballs. I didn’t play soccer growing up, so I was teaching myself drills and basics just a little ahead of the kids.

And the laundry! Don’t get me started on the piles of cleats, shin guards, socks, and shin guard sleeves (I know, I didn’t know either!) that piled up in front of every entrance to our house. It smelled like soccer played in 110 degrees or in the rain, and it smelled like feet. Always. And no one could ever find the right pair of whatever! It was usually those dang shin guard sleeves!

Our kids played soccer in Georgia, Korea, Alaska, Kansas, Oklahoma and Utah. We played in rain, snow, 40 mph winds, sleet, mud, and pretty much every configuration of weather except for “sunny and cool”. There were no high heels or designer outfits being worn to these games, unless you count the many “Coach” t-shirts I wore over the years. But I was “HOT”! Or freezing!

So what is up with this notion that we have to look put together at soccer, dance, or football practice? Or kindergarten drop off, for that matter! I have been noticing all the cute back to school pictures this week on social media and also, all the “hot” moms in their Pre-k drop-off outfits. Let me just say, if I drive my kids to school, I’m in my pjs unless I have a doctor’s appointment or something right after drop off. Not only am I in my pjs, my hair is crazy and there is no makeup anywhere to be found! Or high heels! Probably not even shoes. So, no, McKenzleigh, I don’t want to know where you got your eyelash extensions or your bayalage done! I’m just trying to drop off my child without a) talking to anyone else, b) getting road rage and c) actually having to get OUT of the car.

COLD ASIAN MOTHERS

Speaking of back-to-school, I also feel the need to share with you what I always considered a flaw, but now realize is just a part of me. And that’s ok. I’m talking about the emotional side of motherhood. We have a daughter leaving for college in about 10 days. I can guarantee you that just as he did with the older two, my husband will cry. He will be an emotional wreck. It will break his heart that his baby girl is leaving the nest. This time, however, we only live about an hour from BYU, where as the last two times we sent kids to BYU we were in Oklahoma and didn’t see them until Christmas. It doesn’t matter. He will be very tender hearted and emotional, and I won’t cry. At all. I KNOW. I didn’t cry when anybody started kindergarten or graduated or left for a mission or came home. I did have a few happy tears on their wedding days.

By the way, the family I grew up in was exactly like that! No crying, just excitement about the next phase of life. But when I married my husband and started to be around non-Asian people, I started to think I was broken, or missing some DNA. That seemed most likely, since my Japanese sister-in-law seems to react the same as I do in those situations. We actually joked about getting T-shirt’s made that said #coldasianmother. I’ve realized though, that just because my feelings don’t come out as tears or tender hugs, (although I have tried hard to work on expressing physical affection), I feel just as deeply as the mom who cries every week when she gets her missionary’s letter. I think my children appreciate that I give them the wings to fly, and that I share the excitement of each new phase. I don’t need to apologize for my down-to-earth, practical, no-nonsense mothering. Plus, if we all cried, no one would ever leave or get anything done!

COLD AND HOT

So, there you have it. My late night musings on being “hot” and “cold” all brought to you as I am waiting for my daughter’s new little one to show up in the next few hours. Speaking of emotions. This is one of those moments that I know other people cry over. I probably won’t, but I am still going to love that baby just as much as if I used a whole box of Kleenex.

My life seems mostly ruled by my inner thermostat right now. Luckily, I’m at a place in life where society’s version of “hot” means very little to me. I am more concerned with being warm. Trying to steal some of my hubby’s tenderness and learn to extend it to others. To say hello and really mean it. To be intentional with my social media use and comment in ways that lift others. To try and help people feel my love even if I don’t have tears to send with it. To express my actual feelings with actual words to the actual people who matter most to me. To be a better listener. To make my home a place where you want to come and stay.

But don’t touch the thermostat, and it could just be me, but isn’t it hot in here?!