a note to my girl

December 2008
Sweetness, you just turned 2-1/2 and you are FUNNY. While there are moments when your emotions overtake your silliness (I actually carried you out of the house today with just your tights on, since you refused to get dressed)—mostly, you make us laugh. You love to dress up in princess clothes “I princess!” (“who is mommy?” I ask —“Mommy the queen!” you say).

You love music and dancing. “I want Rock and roll All night, I like that one, the Scooby doo one.” You talk non stop, even when you are in your crib. The other day I heard you talking to the “bad guys”: “bad guys! Bad guys! Let go of Dumbo! Dumbo- run Dumbo! Let go of Dumbo, Bad Guys!” You like to eat and eat—“I wanna snack” “I want vitamins, mama juice, I want gummy” (gum). You like to chew gum while sucking on your “B”—your binky, which I cannot get away from you!

You wake in the morning and yell “Mom! I’m awake mom! I wanna get out. I wanna come out there. Mom!”. Kade runs into your room first, and you two kiss & hug. It couldn’t be sweeter. Mostly you like each other and you watch out for each other. When he is sad, you want to know if he’s okay, you say “Don’t cry!”. When you are frustrated or not getting what you want, you say “I’m crying, mom. I ‘m so sad.”, you pull your bottom lip down, show your bottom teeth and let out a cry...or many.

Bathtime at night is always an adventure. You like to antagonize your brother, you’ll climb on top of his back and say GIDDYUP! Daddy tries to peel you apart but you guys laugh and laugh. Today you were in the bath and you two were fighting, I could hear you from downstairs. Then—you started laughing. I knew something was up. We went to check it out and brother said “we were just putting sissy’s B in our bum bums!” (this story will kill you when you are older).

We mostly try not to laugh. Tonight you were wearing your princess dress, glass slippers, sunglasses, crown and were happy as could be. You are mostly happy as can be, and we adore you, Ry girl.
“Climb Daddy Mountain”
“I do it by myself”
“No! I don’t like that!”
“I wanna wear a beautiful dress”
"I a girl!"

A place of Hope

Obama won last week. I can hardly write it without tearing up. its taken me so long to process what this means while trying to access how it feels...and though the word is larger than life, somehow Hope doesn't encompass it all.

It means we still live in a country where anything really can happen. Where I really can tell both my son AND my daughter that they can be whatever they want to be-- even President. It means we are more alike than we thought. It means most of us still care, still believe in the promise that this country made to us, and still feel pride when we see the American flag. It means that though I live in the middle of a metropolitan city, I can still feel so much joy at that moment that I hug and cry with every stranger I see.

We were here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0qL-CgzQ0FY

How do you capture that kind of joy again? That one man, this new President, has brought that in people even if just for a moment in time -- well that is worth my vote a thousand times over.

Godspeed, President Obama. The world is yours, and we are there to be on your team. Don't stop believing, indeed!

A note to K

You are growing so fast, my sweet boy. You face life head on with so much enthusiasm, but that means you will be ready to leave me sooner than I might like. When I first sent you to PK you were only 3 years old. You stood by the window crying as I left for the first 6 weeks. Your stubbornness and your pure love of me kept you standing there for weeks longer than I might have expected. Once I finally convinced you I was coming back, you began to wave. You would stand in your spot in the basement school and look up at me with those big blue trusting eyes and wave like crazy, blowing me kisses. And finally, a tap on your heart to show me you loved me, never taking your eyes off of me. I always had to walk away first. Towards the end of the year, you would sometimes wander off before me. But not always.
This year you give me a quick kiss, hug your sister, and run off. I look down at the window sometimes when I leave but you are never there. You are busy, as you should be, and I already miss your 3-year-old self. But I will always feel that tap on my heart when I part from you.

A little easier

School started again, and, its a little easier this year. Kade is ready to go each day-- especially if he can be the "first one there" (everything is a competition). He is learning so quickly, its only week 3 and he has come home having absorbed the four seasons, how to write his name and some spanish (!). Ryen has to go one day by herself and one day with me, and she's not fan of the parting. But she does okay. Its me who doesnt like it. I see it all before me, the little steps away leading to the big steps away and then, they're gone. I'm not hoping in any case for them to be here at 25, but instead for them to stay 4 and 2 forever.

But its a little easier for me too. Its easier because they are happy to go, and they are learning and growing, and I know I would be holding them back if they didn't go. And that's my job, after all. I only wish my job would get a little easier.

These Are The Days

"You stayed around your children as long as you could, inhaling the ambient gold shavings of their childhood, and at the last minute you tried to see them off into life and hoped that the little piece of time you'd given them was enough to prevent them from one day feeling lonely and afraid and hopeless. You wouldn't know the outcome for a long time."
-- Meg Wolitzer, The Ten Year Nap

Each day, I feel it slipping away. My babies are toddlers and preschoolers already-- little still, but getting old enough to not always want to hold my hand. But their ecstatic joy at my mere presence is, I hope, enough for me to treasure this journey for the long term and not always pine for These Days. But sometimes I think These are The Days-- the unselfconscious laughter, faithful trust, wholehearted affection, total honesty and unabashed question asking-- these are the days I was made to be a mama.

This, I am good at. This, my kids revel and blossom in.
And what tomorrow brings...for that I can only hope. We will stay around as long as we can-- inhaling and inhaling and inhaling.

Balance

I was in a yoga class last night and the teacher announced we were doing the position "Crow". Yeah, right, i thought-- maybe YOU are doing the position crow, but I'd rather not fall on my face. I sat.

Then she stopped. She talked about how fear holds us back. Asking our body to do something it doesnt usually do causes a sense of fear, she said, and I listened. Then she gracefully talked us thru what it should feel like each step of the way...and I was doing crow! Maybe it wasnt so beautiful, but there I was, with the weight of my body balanced on the back of my arms in perfect symmetry with the rest of my body. Victory!

This morning my yoga mat was still out, so Kade wanted to see what yoga looked like. I showed him some stretches...MORE! he said. So I showed him more...he mirrored my moves in a way that only a 4 year olds' body can effortlessly do. And only a 4 year olds' mind can embrace in a world where fear doesn't exist, and if mom is there, then all is well.

Balance. Fear. Victory.
Morning. noon. Night.
Childhood. Parenthood. Old Age.

All is well.

Four Years Ago

its 10:05 PM. Four years ago, I was pushing. And yelling. And anxiously awaiting what would happen in just over 60 minutes-- 11:17pm, to be exact, which would forever change my life. It is when I would become a mom.

My little man was born 4 years ago today. In that little body is every miracle I've ever believed in-- that of life and love and individuality and imagination and character and challenge and laughter and proof of God. I watch in awe as he becomes. I hold on as he grows. I cherish as he tests his courage. I hold my breath as he spreads his wings. I count my blessings each moment.

Yes, even those moments when he says (imagine the tone)-"FINE! MOM. DONT SAY THAT!" (sassy boy). Or "Mom! Don't sing" (bossy man), and even my favorite and most original- "no"-- because I know somewhere deep in my being that even this is only for now. I will cease to be the center of his world one day too soon, but he will never cease to be mine.

Happy Birthday, my little one. May you continue to be you-- you perfect boy.

I cannot live this way

"Fall out, fall out with the rest of your brothers
with the rest of your sisters,
the heroes on the line...
and carry out what your leader says for what his leader says
is that his leader says, this is right for the people...
Smoke and explosions surround me
A flood of hate it drowns me,
I cannot live this way, no I cannot live with this
Doubt and confusion they find me
They run up right behind me...
I cannot die this way, no I will not die this way."
(excerpted from Brendan James' "Hero's Song", BODY OF WAR soundtrack)

I heard the song first. I was driving by myself, and it brought tears to my eyes and shivers to my spine. Then I saw the movie.

the official description of it goes something like this:

"Body of War is an intimate and transformational feature documentary about the
true face of war today. Meet Tomas Young, 25 years old, paralyzed from a bullet to his spine - wounded after serving in Iraq for less than a week. Body of War is Tomas' coming home story as he evolves into a new person, coming to terms
with his disability and finding his own unique and passionate voice against
the war. It unfolds on two parallel tracks. We see Tomas evolving into a powerful
voice against the war as he struggles to deal with the complexities of a paralyzed body. And we see the debate unfolding in the Congress about going to
war in Iraq, and hear one man (Senator Robert Byrd, D-WV) stand against the others in defending the constitution in the face of rampant scare tactics and
bullying."

My description of it is a little less eloquent, but goes more like this:
This film is amazing, life changing and complex. Tomas is funny, and I laughed with him. He is also tragic and forgotten and symbolic, and I cried for him. It reminded me of so many things I already knew: that we're all just people sharing
one country; that that country is great but has been lost; that if we don't pay
attention and stand up for something, we will -- as my mother always said-- fall
for anything; and that i've been so afraid that my voice will be unheard that I stopped speaking.

Producer Phil Donahue was on hand to answer questions but mostly to tell us to GET PEOPLE TO GO SEE THIS FILM. No one will distribute it or put their label on it-- the
only way it will succeed is if you get others to come with you, talk about it and keep the conversation going. Don't be quiet. Be informed and compassionate
but firm-- this war must stop.

We cannot continue to live this way.

(www.bodyofwar.com)

Parental Perfection

I went to a seminar the other night titled "Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child". It was packed. There were easily 2,000 people there...2,000 parents, that is. Who else would go to such a seminar?

Full of great information, humor and encouragement, I walked away from there stunned that so many parents were in one room. My thoughts ranged from respect for a culture that so clearly prioritizes children to anxiety over the need for parental perfection.

So much of what was discussed is in turn instinctive and difficult. The main outline talks about "Emotion Coaching" in 5 steps, including:
1- Noticing emotion
2- Having an attitude that emotion is an opportunity for teaching
3- Understanding, not judging, emotion
4- Providing verbal labels for what kids are feeling
5- Setting limits

All that being said, is their room for humanness-- error-- learning from mistakes? Or are we programming our children for perfection? And who decides what that is-- when we, as parents, have failures, who coaches our emotions? Or are we not allowed to fail-- and what does that teach our kids?

Perhaps, if we all try together, we can raise a generation in which the need for these seminars no longer exist. All I know for sure is that I went home and kissed my sweet kiddos in their sleep-- hoping above hope that they just know how hard we tried.

Muy Bien

SATURDAY
Off to Mexico!
Woke the kids up at 6am to set out on the trip. They were in a great mood, excited and amenable to being out of their routines. Leg 1 of the flight was great, we got off in San Francisco to run the kiddos a bit. When we got back to the gate, it was empty…panic, panic. The gate agents motioned to us to RUN! We did, and as we got on the plane, all eyes turned on us—my boy started crying (he who hates being rushed) and inexplicably, a flight attendant grabbed my baby in an attempt to help. I was sweating so much I let her and babes CRIED and CRIED…have I mentioned she won’t even let her DADDY hold her when I am around!?!? Half the plan laughed while the other half cursed us. Ah—traveling with kids.

Arriving in Puerto Vallarta and I still hold onto my Mommy ways. Can’t relax yet—make sure all the strollers and carseats are present (I think they might be starting because they’ve never SEEN a carseat). Into a van with no seatbelts—so much for the carseats. Short ride to the rental car place where we’re given a tiny car (did I marry my Dad?? Economy, what?) with a backseat seatbelt that does not work. I finally hold my ground, we’re upgraded (anything for the right price, hmm?) and get them all set, buckled in and we’re off. Babes tells me for the 16th time in the hour since we’ve arrived “Ionfoo” (I want food). Oy. And I want a drink.

We arrive at the most stunning setting—a little city in the middle of the resort towns. Our home is set on the beach with our own pool, one of about 6 houses in the complex. The pac and play we ordered for babes in nowhere to be found, nor is the property manager who is to meet us. We search for a way to call him to no avail…finally talking to the gate agent, who “knows a guy” (a refrain I am to hear many times in the next week), Jesus arrives to help us. He is the local version of the property manager. He guides us through town “Follow me” and gets us acclimated.

La Cruz is 3 or 4 streets which sometimes have restaurants open and sometimes not. If you can figure out which streets are paved and open and not clogged by constructions (which my money says will never be completed), you might be able to find a treasure. We did in La Frusciate. Outdoor garden, delicious pizzas, pasta for the kids, and excellent wine/beer list.

NOW, I am on vacation.

SUNDAY
Sleeping with Ryen is not restful. Must get pack and play today. She sleeps just like her Dad—all over the bed, 73 different positions, can’t get comfortable, crazy girl. Ah, well. We’re in Mexico, right?

A day by the pool, Steve the property manger finally shows up, we run to the MEGA store to get food and run into him buying the pack and play (YAY!). we’re set. Happy Hour starts early today…not that I really know what time it is anyhow.

MONDAY
Today we’re down on the beach, trying to make the soft, hot sand into shapes. I’m running up a down to the water and back to harden up the sand structures. The beach is a bit rocky so the kids can’t get any closer but-- such a problem to have, isn’t this?

I see mirror images of my kiddos wandering down the beach from just two houses down. They make their way to us and introduce themselves as Dominic (age 3-1/2) and Gabriella (age 22 months). Oh, we don’t even know yet what fun is to come! Lauren, their mom, chats with a beautiful South African accent. They live in Vancouver, B.C. and the kids play together wonderfully. We make plans to meet up later and off to nap.

Lauren stops by later but the wind has picked up, we table plans to go to the next town over (Bucerias) to softer beaches. Her husband, Kevin, takes on my rejected bottle of Mexican wine as we watch the kids play Diego, then Dora, then dance to the Wiggles. Life is truly good.

TUESDAY
We head into Bucerias this morning, hoping to catch the warmest part of the day. The morning is spent running in and out of the beautiful waves and burying unburying, burying again the boys in the sand. Ry is – as usual- needing “foo” every 7 minutes or so. I have no idea how much sand she ate..

There is a real market here that we walk through, more life than in La Cruz. Restaurants line the beach and we choose one for lunch. I order and make my way about ¾ through an amazing margarita! Ry crashes on the way home and transfers to nap—Kade swims with his Daddy and spend the afternoon running between Dominic and our home. All in all—another perfect day.

WEDNESDAY
Little Man has started speaking Spanish...or he babbles in what he thinks sounds like what he is hearing. BUT, he DOES now count in Spanish, say "De Nada" to my Thank you and Adios as we leave places.

Events today were more of the same. Can’t improve on perfection…

THURSDAY
Valentines Day! We plan to check out Puerto Vallarta but boy-boy wants to stay and play. Lauren graciously offers to keep him so we adventure with babes in tow—neither of us can remember a time ever alone with her—its kind of sweet.

We walk the Malecon, the street in town with shops lined up. Stop for late brunch and have the place to ourselves! Little One runs around in glee, we view the beach from our upstairs perch, and spot a Starbucks down the way…and we’re off. Brad is happy.

Glad to see PV, but even more so to be in the little town of La Cruz. Does it ever rain here, by the way?

Tonight we’ve arranged to have Jesus, the property manager and his wife cook all of us dinner. Unsure of the time, we have cocktails and snacks with Lauren, Kevin, and her parents Wundra and Ian as we wait for our feast. As suspected, Ry makes her plunge into the pool. I have expected this all week, but am panicked, though I manage to move quickly to pull her out and calm her down. In fact, she calms faster than Mommy…

As our “chefs” appear, we take our places and toast our good luck in finding such wonderful friends so far away from home, a lovely vacation and beautiful food. It will be a hard Valentine’s Day to top.

FRIDAY
The air conditioner leaked all over the DVD player and broke it. One Dora down..

Last day to play in the pool. We take full advantage. Tonight we go to the “Hidden Paradise” restaurant—just a walk down the beach. Wow. There is no menu but a tray of freshly prepared fish and vegetables to choose from. I pick a skewer of shrimp, veggies, etc and have one of the most amazing meals. Again, we have the place to ourselves—including the porch built out over the water, looking out towards PV and the light breeze blowing through. You can’t imagine a place like this, let alone experience it.

SATURDAY
Adios, amazing week!

What a long flight! The first leg was manageable, though one DVD player down put us at a bit of a disadvantage. To actually have to entertain my own children! Shame. Once off in SF, though, it went downhill from there. Besides Baby Girl being STARVING for the entire journey, she decided it would be fun to run and hide in the customs area. No one there thought it was particularly funny. I fear they may have suspected a kidnapping in the process...In the meantime, Kader- after repeated questions as to bathroom needs- waited until we were no where near one to announce he had to go NOW. Once told there was not one nearby he announces, "well, I guess I just have to go in my pants". We diverted that disaster, but-- really??!

Then the fun began.

Ry climbed literally ON my head as we continued to try to keep her and her brother’s feet off the poor people‚s seat in front of them. Shortly after takeoff, he crashed. Baby Girl intermittently screamed her head off, pulled her brother’s hair to try to wake him up, and slept for short spurts at a time. When we landed, waking them both made them scream, cry and tantrum as we pushed the last remaining passengers (us) off the plane so that the flight attendants could go home. We had to stop and calm Kade down twice just to get him to go to baggage claim. He would only let me carry him so then Ry started screaming MAMA! MAMA! Our friend Alix picked us up and all we could do was laugh as the kids kept up their fight for Mommy. Girl Baby poked her brother in the eye at one point to get him off my lap.

As we drove up to the house, we thought WHEW! As Brad picked up the key from the side door, we saw him walk around the house to the front then--nothing. Total blackness. Turns out a breaker blew in the city light system and RIGHT AT THAT MOMENT, all the power went out in our neighborhood. We scrambled to disable the alarm, not wake the kids, light candles and locate flashlights all while trying to keep the remaining heat from leaving the house--short story long-- and after another round of tantrums, we all settled in a bit colder, darker, more tired and a bit crazy. I think Brad seriously considered no more children at about 2am˜and maybe giving away the ones we have.

It was still worth it.

And, its 2008

How does THAT happen? 2008-- a year I thought I would be flying to work in my personal aircraft on the freeway in the sky. But I still get in the car and drive...how boring.

Somehow, I've misplaced 3 months. Or maybe I do know how: two growing children, one grown child (wink), 2 ear infections, 1 sinus infection, 1 bout of strep throat, a stomach flu, Halloween, Thanksgiving, a trip to Austin, a week working in New York, a drive to Spokane, and a little thing called Christmas. phew.

Some highlights:
1- A ladybug and Scooby Doo bobbing for apples.
2- My Boy's new affinity for KISS. As in, GENE SIMMONS.
3- My Girl's new affinity for the word NO.
4- Potty humor. Funny stuff. Especially in a restaurant.
5- Little One's Shrek obsession. Going into Shrek rehab as soon as she can talk in full sentences.
6- Santa, candy and cousins-- love, joy and family.

Not a bad way to lose a few months...