This is my friends & family newsletter. You probably signed up after reading one of my articles, a LinkedIn post, or after we met. You’ll get a new letter 1-2x per month.
Madeline Mei Jing Lee was born on November 26th, 2025.
I write and publish birthday letters for the kids. You can read Oliver’s, Annabel’s, Theodore’s, and Deefer’s recent letters.
We went to visit our family friends, Ali and Tommy, with your Mima. They’d just finished remodeling their house.
Ali opened her walk-in closet.
“Tada,” she said. Shoes lined the room floor to ceiling—Manolo Blahnik pumps and Jimmy Choo and Louboutin heels, all on perfect display. I wear Hokas for every occasion, but somewhere The Corrs were playing. It left me breathless.
Later, Tommy took us to the basement, showed us his tool collection. Everything perfectly hung, tools stenciled to the pegboard so you’d know exactly where each one belonged. Everything in its place.
My dream house.
When we left, I asked your Mima: “Did they want kids?”
“Ali did,” she said. “Tommy didn’t. They nearly divorced over it, years ago.”
“Then what?”
She shrugged.
“Then they didn’t. Tommy got his way.”
—
Your grandad suggested a few names for you.
美雲 (Mei Wan): beautiful cloud
美怡 (Mei Yee): beautiful and joyful
美靜 (Mei Jing): beautiful and calm
We didn’t hesitate. We’ll take the calm one.
Your parents are optimists, Madeline. We wanted to conjure some stillness into your personality. This house runs on chaos—usually after dinner, before bed, the volume rising until someone cries. We were hoping you’d bring some balance.
So far, you’ve held up your end of the bargain. Like you knew we needed it.
You’re also the last one. Which means there’s this tension: we know the most about parenting, but have the least time to do anything about it.
I can’t promise Louboutins or an orderly life. With four of you, I’m not even promising college. You all might flip for it—the winner goes.
But I promise you this: you are born into a family that will show up for you. Everyone is cheering you on. There’s so much love here, Madeline.
It’ll leave you breathless.
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