Matt Chung's Site

Tag: single parenting

  • A cup of tea, a splash of milk, a flood of love

    A cup of tea, a splash of milk, a flood of love

    I’m feeling lots of love right now, all from flicking through my diary and unexpectedly stumbling on some stick figure drawings that my 5 year old daughter drew, along with some sentence fragments she wrote.

    For a moment, the love was overwhelming and I was on the verge of crying.

    I just fucking love my baby so much.

    Here at Tea House Theater, I’m sipping my cup of tea and currently locked, focusing on tidying up my notes since frustration was building up combined with feelings of overwhelm from some creative projects I haven’t yet realized. Often, accompanying these emotions are what feels like a dizzy amount of thoughts racing around in my head; being in this state typically brings on feelings of paralysis. Recognizing the state I am in, I reach into my backpack and pull out my journal so that I can empty out my thoughts using what the “Anchor Technique”.

    Anyways, I was flipping through pages one by one in my journal, trying to find today’s diary entry, when I stumbled on some of Elliott’s drawings. They quickly brought me to the present moment — not worrying about the past, not anxious about the future — and served as a reminder of WHY I am in London, a reminder of ONE of the (primary) reasons I breathe: to be here, for her.

    Daddy loves you Elliott.

  • Weekly Review – November 25th to December 02

    Weekly Review – November 25th to December 02

    Normally, I conduct my weekly reviews on Sunday, on a weekend where I am less pressed for time, a period of time that I can sit down and reflect. However, I had Elliott this past weekend — at the moment, alternating weekends — and by the end of Sunday evening, at 5:00pm, when her mother picks her up, I’m drained with energy. Long story short: better now than never.

    I remember experiencing joy this past Tuesday, sitting in an office located in central London, my client’s office where I’m currently working as a consultant for the next 3 months. Though my social contact needs are low, I enjoyed not only the technical banter, but discussions on stretching and calisthenics.

    From Friday afternoon to Sunday evening, I had Elliott (video clip below). When I’m with my daughter, there are so many tiny moments where I feel both love and joy. In the little moments, like when I am washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen and she’s sitting in the same area, the two of us talking while she’s coloring in. And I also experience so many micro proud moments, proud of both her and proud of myself. For instance, I taught her how to use the laptop and how to press down “command + P” followed by the “RETURN” key, enabling her to print out her own connect the dot worksheets.

    Another moment I really enjoyed was having lunch with her in Chinatown. Drawing inspiration from another parent, I bought a memory game from Amazon and carry it along with me in my backpack, busting it out when her and I have a moment to ourselves. What was so sweet was that when we got to the restaurant, because we go there about every weekend when I have her, the employees already know our order (i.e. chicken chow mein, dim sum platter, pork bao). What’s more is that another employee stopped by our table and played the memory game with us, despite Elliott being unsure with what they were doing since the older woman spoke with broken English.

    On Sunday evening, after Elliott left, I danced and trained (video clip below). One primary intention that I had set prior to performing the dance specific exercises was holding certain positions longer. There’s this tendency I have to move to the next beat before the current beat fully finishes, and as such, people have told me (numerous of times, number of people) that I am “rushing”. They’re not wrong. So during this instance of the exercise, particularly on the “third” rhythm, I held the final foot positioning for a fraction of second longer and looking back at the footage, just that extra moment in time makes the movement and transition much more clear.

  • On experiencing joy and love when watching my own recap videos

    On the days I don’t see Elliott (my beautiful 5 year old daughter), I often find myself (re)watching recap videos of us on my iPhone, short little clips that I stitch together to capture a moment in time, a snapshot aimed to honor our relationship (as well as share with some friends and family).

    Right now, I’m sitting at a café located near her school; I’m working remotely and just sent off a proposal for a 3 month engagement, now getting ready to grab a bite to eat before walking over to school to pick her up. And while watching the video below, I sensed a wave of calm and love and joy, these emotions washing over me.

    In this video clip, she’s sitting on my lap as I feed her pasta that I had picked up from M&S, the two of us singing along to Dua Lipa’s “Levitating” performance that’s taking place on Tiny Desk.

  • A little bit of grief, a dose of sadness

    A little bit of grief, a dose of sadness

    Elliott is and continues to blossom into a beautiful little girl. Today, the two of us spent the afternoon playing with slime, drawing characters from the movie “Inside Out 2”, then I wrapped up the evening with reading her two children’s books that I had purchased for her, books that happen to revolve around a little girl who is growing up with two homes (i.e. her current situation).

    As shared in the (below) video’s text, today I was unexpectedly hit with a wave of grief while music was playing in the background, the song “The Lumineers – Stubborn Love.”

    Elliott and I were sitting at the kitchen table, the two of us drawing (an activity we do often), when this song was automatically played by Spotify, a song that my ex-wife and I used to listen to. And memories of our family unit lit up in my head. The power of music. A song can instantly teleport me to specific moments that I’ve buried in the back of my head.

    Though I momentarily felt sadness, I at the same time reminded myself that I am actually happier now that I’m divorced, living a more authentic life. In addition, I was crying not only for myself, but grieving for Elliott as well. I vowed years ago — long before Elliott was born — that I would put in the work, to guarantee, to ensure, that she would never experience her parents divorcing. And yet, here I am. Here we are. The universe: it was written.

    This whole divorce process has been emotionally challenging for her: how could it not? Divorce impacts the parents, the children, the extended families. There’s a ripple effect.

    Although part of it me has thoughts of shielding her from negative emotions, I believe that part of my job as her dad is to show her fragments of the truth, fragments of the reality of life, overtime, and hold space and care and attention for her to process — to feel — the emotions. Overtime, I believe, she becomes more and more resilient.

    Sharing some (what I consider) age appropriate truths is essential for Elliott however this is one (of many) areas where her mother and I disagree. For instance, when the cat died this past year, Jess had texted me, telling me to “not tell Elliott.” I had replied via email, telling Jess I felt that we are doing a disservice to Elliott, not allowing her to grieve and instead, making up a story that the cat is lost, giving her a false sense of hope. This is one of the many instances that remind me that Jess and I hold different philosophical parenting beliefs.

    Upwards and onward.