Literally, the title of this post is the truth. You certainly won’t find a photo of Mom here,; she would freak out that I put a picture of her on the big, giant, scary Internet. This is my blog post entry for The Fiddy x Beautibi Mother’s Day Challenge, hosted by Fiftyshadesofsnail.com and Beautibi.
I thought pretty long and hard about writing this entry, but I guess Mom will yell at me for only half as long if we were so lucky to win this giveaway. And if we didn’t, she wouldn’t have to know…right? Please, don’t tell me that moms always know!
As a child, I never put a lot of thought in how much my mom had done for me. It took a long time, despite her telling my sister and I frequently, to understand how much she had given for me.
We immigrated to Canada when I was only 5, and my sister just 7. According to Dad, I when I was told we were moving to Canada, I had only asked, “is it a really long plane ride?” and wondered if our nanny could come (she couldn’t, but she actually found her way here YEARS later, and found us, inviting us out to dinner while wearing the first outfit my mom had ever bought her some 20 years ago, but that’s a different story for a different day).
I never understood how hard it was, to leave family, friends, and familiarity behind, and come to a brand new country. She spoke English fairly well, which made it just a little bit easier, but as my father traveled frequently between Hong Kong and Canada, our upbringing lay solely on mom. This meant she was the only one taking care of us, learning to drive so she could shuttle us between school and extra-curriculars since, as typical Asian children, my sister and I were signed up to 8 classes in 7 days of the week. She did the cooking, and shopping, the babying when we were sick, and pretty much the raising.
As a child, you don’t think about the sacrifices she made for this. Yes, she chose to immigrate here for our family, and for us, for our future and our education. She chose this, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t make sacrifices. She probably never asked to have to raise two young children alone, when my father could only visit a couple of weeks maybe 3 or 4 times a year. But she made it work. She made sure we were involved, we were caught up with our education, we had good grades. She played the good parent and the so called ‘bad parent’, because when Dad was only visiting for a couple of weeks there was only so much discipline that could be handed out, if any was needed. In fact, I can only remember once in my entire life that my father ever raised his voice at me.
Of course, my mom tried her hardest to make sure my sister and I took care of our skin, forever harping about how we are girls and should act like girls. She’s one of those really ‘hip’ moms, you see; long, dyed hair, fits in tons of beautiful clothing and dresses, skin that I’m so envious of even to this day. She was forever telling me to not be lazy; to regularly use cleanser, body lotion, and sunscreen. And as a typical child or even teenager, I didn’t listen, or just said, ‘I did!’ when I actually didn’t (oops, sorry!).
So now that I’m really into discovering my own skincare, I get a lot of ‘I told you so’, but also a lot of, ‘what’s that? can I try it? where did you get it? how much was it?’. Asian Beauty has opened another avenue of interest for me to share with my mom, and this time around, I’m the one buying things to share and enjoy with her. In fact, this year, she’s asked for a limited edition BB cushion and some Sulwhasoo for a Mother’s Day gift, declaring of course, that SWS wasn’t any recent discovery of OURS, it’s been around forever and she knew about it alllll along!
Fiddy, if you read this, thank you for this opportunity. There are many more things to say here and I really could go on forever about my mom, but thank you for the chance of this giveaway, and more importantly, the chance to reflect. Every year around Mother’s Day, we get a gift, a card, go out for dinner, and talk about some funny events. But it’s really a rare occasion that I sit and think about what Mom has actually done for us, and truly understand what she gave up for us.
To end this off on a slightly more humorous note, I do have an incredibly funny memory of my mom. One time, when I was maybe…15? Mom and I stood in the kitchen drinking water. She made a face at me, puffing out her cheeks, so I playfully ‘smushed’ them. She proceeded to do the same to me, not knowing I had a mouthful of water…thereby forcing me to spit water all over her. It REALLY wasn’t my fault, Mom! I didn’t do it on purpose!