Talking Back

Potty training came extremely easy to my daughter. She turned two, took an interest in the potty and never looked back. She had one accident on an airplane when we weren't allowed up and she couldn't hold it. That was over six months ago -- today she had her second one. We went to a swim class this morning and she was not happy about it at all. She got in the pool and soon after said "Mommy, I'm all done" She was scared for most of it, but was brave about trying it all, even through tears.

I held her tightly after the class, but I could tell she was still a bit stunned. She got dressed and before we left I asked her if she needed to use the toilet and she declined. She wanted to go home. Upon pulling up at our house she said she had to go and let out a shreek. She had to go more than she thought and she was really surprised that she couldn't hold it. Her clothes were wet and she was uncomfortable and upset.

As we got out of the car she was crying and wanted to go in and get dry. The worker from across the street was outside. He always talks to us, and mostly she likes him but I think he is freaky. This is the same guy who waved to me through my bedroom window when I realized he could see me from the hillside across the street. He creeps me out a little but Twig is on a first name basis with him. Today when he saw her he mimicked her crying and said "Waa, oh did you go pee pee? Why are you crying?"

For me this was wrong on so many levels. For starters, it's one thing to be friendly but this guy has some boundary issues and cleary needs help minding his own. Secondly, don't give my daughter a flower one day and make fun her the next. She wasn't sure what to do when he asked so I snapped back and answered for her. "She is crying because she is uncomfortable." He tried to back paddle and tell her it's okay and that he makes a pee pee too sometimes, but I was ignoring him and walking away into my house (with curtains on the windows now).

Twig just wanted to get changed and then brought his name up as if he didn't say anything strange to her. To me though, this man brought out my inner-Queens. You can say dumb, insensitive things to your own kids (although I prefer people didn't, since it's just going to make for not nice adults) but you can't say it to mine. Not without getting me really pissed off. If you know me, you know I am pretty friendly so it is rare for me to talk to anyone without being nice. But -- if you insult me, or worse, my loved ones, I am going to talk back. Unless, I think you are packing one. I may get angry, but I'm not dumb.

So as for Mr. Man across the street. I will forgive him quickly and be friendly again tomorrow, but for today I think both of us have said enough.

Flower Power

Yesterday was a beautiful afternoon, and despite traffic, I decided to drive out to meet my friend at the Descanso Gardens. I told Twig we were going to see a lot of flowers and we were both excited. We had not seen these friends in a while and my daughter was looking forward to running around with her. We were also going to meet their friends as well.

When we got there, we were greeted by the tulips. We took some photos, explored a bit and then called to find the others. My friend said they were looking for the California Gardens and to head that way. We made our way over and saw cactus, big cool bugs, and fun trails where my girl pretended to be on a hiking adventure. We found our friends, said hello and then they took out a map and tried to get oriented. I didn't realize they were so into plants, so I asked what they were looking for.

A few years back both of them lost one of their closest friends. I heard the story before and whenever my friend mentions it I find it chilling, and horrible. It was not an expected death and I think my friend feels this loss daily. Here we were with toddlers running in and out of our sight line, picking up things they shouldn't and having an obliviously fun time. I didn't know this, but the ashes of their friend were scattered in an area of the garden where she had liked to go. They were looking at it, and now so was I. The little ones skipped and jumped ahead as we turned corners, and went up and down a dip in the road until the spot was found.

Set under an billowing awning of branches was a bench. Right before my friend stepped towards it I asked her if she and her friend had been since their girls were born, and she replied that she hadn't. It was all eerily moving for me to see these two women walk up to visit this spot with two new lives climbing up beside them. The bench was made from trunks of trees and kind of reminded of the story of "The Giving Tree." In the middle was a gold plate with their friend's name. She was gone and as the way the circle of life works, here were people that didn't exist when she exited. As obviously heavy this could have been for them it wasn't. They were laughing and yelling after their mischievous girls. I didn't know this friend of theirs but if she was anything like them she was laughing with them. If she could comment on this visit I would guess she would be pissed that it took them this long to visit her, and amused at how their daughter's personalities so reflected theirs.

My daughter and I were only along for the ride yesterday, but from the outside it was a pretty cool reunion to witness.

Color Blind

I recently began reading "Nurture Shock." It's a fascinating read. It has a chapter called, "Why white people don't talk about race." It was very interesting to read that there are quite a few misconceptions when it comes to kids and race. I thought kids were color blind, and the more diverse the environment the more likely they will accepting of diversity. According to studies done, it works the opposite way.

People also, myself included, assumed that if you don't talk about racial differences, that kids might not think there was any big deal difference and go make friends with anyone. Also, not true. Apparently, the more diversity within a large group of kids, the more opportunity kids have to self-segregate. The less you talk about race the stronger a child will build up their own ideas about differences. Many parents think kids need to be older to handle a talk on this subject matter, and the older the child the more closed the mind is.

I started Kindergarten and first grade in a private school. Everyone was white, and there were uniforms and a lot of rules. I lived in a very diverse city and was aware of the different type of people that didn't go to my school. I didn't love private school so at the beginning of second grade my parents moved me to P.S. 162, a public school in Queens. I don't remember if my mother had given me a heads up on how different this experience this would be for me, I just remember walking into the classroom and seeing that nothing was the same. My teacher (my favorite to date) was Mrs. Lee. She was black, tall and had the warmest smile. The classroom was more colorful than the private school, and not because it was diverse, but because the tables faced each other and there was art work all over the walls. I fit right in because I was a child, an individual, and not a little soldier.

I stayed in public school all the way through high school. I did have many friends of different races. Of my three close friends growing up, one was Chinese, one was Indian, and one was Jewish like me. To date though, I am closest with the Jewish friend. Perhaps we do create close relationships with people we have the most in common with. I had several black girlfriends growing up but we never saw each other that much out of school. My three closest friends lived within walking distance to me, so that factors in as well.

I would be lying if I didn't remember growing up with some bias of other people. I also remember being afraid of being Jewish at one point as well. I never felt strangely about any ethnic difference I went to school with, but one summer at the all-Jewish camp I went to, a Yemenite girl was in my bunk. I had never seen someone that dark, but she wasn't like the black people I knew. I remember telling one of my friends that the girl was very different from us. No one ever planted that idea in my head, and it obviously came from a place of fear. So, perhaps had my second grade class room had people from Yemen in it, I wouldn't have had that racist moment, but who knows? I also remember a mean, eraser chewing kid, who I knew was Catholic, make a comment about Jews. He then turned to me and said, "You aren't Jewish, are you?" I remember I quickly answered that I wasn't.

Promptly after reading this chapter I decided a child is never too young to learn that there are a lot of different kinds of people. It is also never too early to explain that those different kinds of people are a lot like us. There are so many opportunities to point that out too. I don't live in New York anymore and Los Angeles (certainly Beverly Hills) is not super diverse but there are big and small differences all around. Now, my Twig points out everything from blue eyes to brown skin. For the moment I think we are doing okay in this department. Her favorite baby doll is her little black one and she walked right through the open door of a black salon recently and no one said anything except for the owner when he pointed out that she was getting her baby's haircut.

Forget Me Not

I can't forget who I was before I had this little girl.

I love her more than I can even try to articulate, and she now holds the majority of my heart in her hands. I did have a lot of other passions before she came along, and I don't even remember how much I loved them too. There really doesn't seem to be quite as much time in the day as there used to be and as I type this I can see on my video monitor,that this here bit of me time is about to come to an end. There is still a lot of fun to be had and though by night fall I am typically exhausted, every once and a while I push myself to get out and I almost never regret it.

I am grateful to be someone who found a career I was passionite about. I loved every job I ever had, and couldn't believe I was making money for enjoying myself the way I was. I worked in theater, the film and television industry, I was a fitness instructor, a figure skating instructor, personal trainer and worked with children in all of the above areas. I had the best time. I didn't always get every job I ever wanted but I can say I have had great opportunities in my life. The job I am holding currently as a mother is the one I have pined after the most and is the only one I really care about holding onto forever, I just know that I am not done with the other ones yet either.

This past week has been a fun one. I went with my husband to go indoor skydiving. It was a crazy wild time. It pushed us out of our comfort zone and into a wind tunnel where we had to get into the right position to take flight. We both had the best time, and it was so good to do something so different than what I do on a daily basis now. I love adrenaline rushes and it had been too long since I had one. Last night we went to hear one of my favorite new artists play, and she rocked! We didn't get home until after one and as tired as I am today, it was worth it. She is in her twenties and giving everything she has to making this career happen for her. She is an incredible talent and it shows. She has both a huge voice and presence on stage and it is amazing to watch. Her show was upbeat at times and very moving at others. She emanates emotions in such an intense way. I could feel her drive and it made me miss mine.

I am very happy in the present moment, and I would never give up this time with my girl. I also love hanging out with my friends, being out with my husband, having adult interactions and having career success. Most of these I can do right now. The last one might not happen this second but I now it will again, and I will try not to forget that again.

Putting My Foot Down

In the last day or so I have had my fill of tantrums. Last week my twig was a dream. My husband and I beamed with pride. He reminded me though that like every phase, the good phases pass as well. I was hoping that sweet phase could have lasted just a tad longer though. This parenting thing is a practice and at the moment we are practicing some tough love.

My mother in law heard of our night time struggle recently and said that this generation of parents are lacking in some down home discipline. I agree, and I am guilty. I try reasoning over bossing most of the time. I don't believe in lifting a finger, but I think raising my voice once in a while, just for the impact, wouldn't hurt. It seems over last few months I have forgotten to remind her I am still boss. Today, she shouted "no" at me, so now I know things have gotten a little backward.

When I tell her that she can't have something she doesn't take it well. I understand this, dissapointment is not my strongest suit either, but I have learned acceptance. She hits the wall and is determined to bring me down with her. She will just repeat "Mommy, mommy, mommy", louder and louder. I will say, as calmly as I can at first, "yes?" but she just says "Mommy" until I begin to lose it a little. She cannot break me down though. I may be irritated but I am pretty darn stubborn myself.

My husband and I recently decided that in the next few months, we will go ahead and try for another baby. This was not a small decision and how we got to it, might be deserving of it's own blog post soon, but for now I will say that the Pinball is putting a kink in our plans. What she doesn't know is that if she doesn't shape up, she might not get a sibling. Not sure that is something she feels very strongly about at the moment, but when she is fifteen and I am really mad at her, she is going to want someone on her side.

I have my work cut out for me. From the day she was born she has been a spirited one. She is smart, quick and lovely, but she is fiesty too. I have to put my foot down now, and not so softly either. I could spend a lot of time trying to discuss things with her, but less is more right now. Here are the rules kid, follow them or you will be bummed. I might stick in a little bribery too. It will be so out of character that she will have to feel the shift in the air, and after all I mean business now!

Tradition!

My husband and I decided that we are not going to raise our children religiously. He is Christian and I am Jewish. We both have a strong connection to the rituals we were raised with and still both feel religious. We just decided that the religion part wasn't for kids. We want to offer all of the traditions we were raised with and for us that is what works. When our daughter grows up she can choose to follow whatever religion interests her, but in the meantime she has all of the fun stuff to enjoy along the way.

We celebrate holidays together. If a holiday has a song we sing it. We have Rosh Hashanah and together go down to the beach for Tachlich. Thanksgiving we alternate between our families for the usual turkey and stuffing. Chanukah, we light candles and have friends over for a latka party. Christmas Eve we spend with my husbands family eating all different fun foods and then doing a secret Santa gift exchange. Christmas day we have dinner with the whole family. New Years eve we bang pots and pans like my grandmother did with me when I was little. No one one either side is Irish, but my dad used to send me to school with a green bagel, so if I could have found one last week she could have tried it. Maybe next year.

This time of year is Purim and friend invited us to a little carnival at her kids preschool. It was pretty lame, and I remembered why there were parts of this holiday that freaked me out. The story of Purim was added to the Jewish religion much later (just like Chanukah) and something about it is a bit off. There is a bad man named Haman, and once he was beheaded the tradition began of making cookies shaped like his ear to remember he was defeated by the Jewish people. I guess along the way people might have thought that was too upsetting for small children and turned the ear into his hat. Either way, yikes! This isn't so much what I remember about it though. I remember going to my best friend's house and making Hamantachen with her and her mother. She had the best recipe and it was so much fun to make the triangles and pinch the corners. I decided to make them with my Twig and it was really sweet to see her enjoying it the way I did.

About once a month we have a traditional Shabbat dinner here too, and together my daughter and I bake Challah. She gets her own piece of dough and gets to put as many raisins in hers as she wants. Easter is coming soon and she will get to play with her cousins, have Easter dinner and find candy out in the yard. Passover, we make a seder with family. Each year new traditions get added on. This year I threw some chocolate and almonds into the Hamantachen, and our seder will now include my sister in law and her boyfriend's family who I'm sure will bring their own Passover twists to the seder. At times the lines between religion and traditions can blur and then we have to respect each other, and find a comfortable medium to make our own while respecting what each of us brings with us from our pasts. When we get to that place together it can feel pretty spiritual after all.

Sew Sew!

I'll make this one short since my house is trashed, and my twig fell asleep with her sunglasses on and I want to take a picture.

I have always wanted to make things with fabric. I took Home Ec in junior high but I don't remember how to use the machine. My mother-in-law bought me a used one a few months before I gave birth and I took a lesson, but the machine is really complicated. I don't really love the process of learning new things but I love it once I've figured something out.

I have recently been inspired by a friend who saw a bed spread she liked and when it was out of her price range to buy it, she decided to make it instead. She bought the fabric and bought a sewing machine. She read the manual and she did it. She has this really awesome bedspread which I complemented her on, and that is why I now have sewing on the brain.

I told another friend this and she happened to have an easy sewing machine to learn from, and was kind enough to lend it to me. So this is my online pledge that by the end of this week I am going to use that machine and make something. I am not going to aim too high but I am going to sew. Even if it is a rag to clean my floor with, because before I wrote this I was picking up crumbs with a bunch of Trader Joe's stickers that my daughter left on the floor. I know, I am pretty talented when it comes to recycling.