My Hero

On Saturday my husband asked me last minute if I could get a sitter to go out. A friend was having a birthday gathering and so I started reaching out to sitters. I was a bit on the fence about going since I've been tired with end-of-school-year activities and I wasn't in the mood to get dressed up. I did want to be out with my husband though and after four attempts, we got a sitter.

We went out around eight or so and met our friends for some appetizers and chatting. After two hours I gently reminded my husband we should probably get home. We left around 10:45 and started driving home. We talked about needing to get cash, and I mentioned I needed some chocolate. That was the last thing I remember before my husband yelling from behind the wheel "Are you okay?" It took me a second to realize what was happening. The air bags were out and the car was spinning. He kept looking at me and saying "we are okay, we are okay." I kept thinking are we?

The car finally stopped spinning and came to a stop. It felt like the end of a really bad ride at an amusement park. The smoke from the airbags filled the car, and my husband told to me to get out. I wasn't able to move as quickly as he was. I didn't feel okay. I tried to push open the door but it was stuck. My hand was bleeding and my left leg hurt. He came around to my side and helped pry the door open. When I got to the curb I turned around and saw what we just survived.

We were driving through a green light when a pick up truck sped through a red in front of us. We hit the middle of his car, and he was first to be taken away by an ambulance. He did not fare as well as we did, and I don't think he looked conscious when they pulled him from his car. Our car was headed east on Pico Blvd, and we ended up facing north on another street. There were two cars also involved behind us that got hit. We do not know exactly what happened but there were several witness who came over when we got out of the car. An EMT driver asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital. He checked my blood pressure and vitals, but I wasn't sure I was in need of a hospital. I turned down two offers for the ambulance, and sat down on the street. It was them that I realized I was in a lot of pain. We decided to call a Lyft and because it's LA and we weren't thinking straight we accidentally ordered a car pool car. A car pulled up to the scene of our accident, with a passenger in the back seat. Horrified, the girl in the back offered to get out and get another car. We thanked her and ordered a new ride. At the point, the pain was getting worse and I wished I could just be home in my bed, near my children.

It was pretty clear that it was going to be a very long night. I thought of our children safely asleep at home. The back of the car still with their car seats reminded me how thankful I was that they weren't with us. This was shocking and terrifying for me to process but for them it would be a nightmare. I asked my husband to call our friends that lived a few doors away and have them relieve our babysitter. We got to the hospital around midnight and finally got seen by a doctor closer to 3 am. An ER on a Saturday night is pretty awful. Lots of kids there who seem to not make very good partying decisions, a few bloody injuries and a lot of sad looking people. My eyes read some subtitles from the television and I caught a bit of the plots from episodes of Scandal and Castle. I stopped looking when it got to infomercials for face cream. I tried to close my eyes but I was still shaking from the shock and pain of the accident. The florescent lights above weren't conducive to the calming, comforting, mood I craved in that moment.

Eventually I was X-rayed and treated for pain. I had a fractured rib on my left side. My husband and I both have some minor cuts and bruises but otherwise we are as he said — "okay." I am definitely in pain and uncomfortable, but also aware of how lucky we are.  In 2002 I went through my first car accident and it was bad. It was before I met my husband and I flipped the car I was driving. I was afraid to drive for a month after. I also broke ribs, that time on the right side. Both accidents were awful and terrifying but this one was not as scary. I wasn't alone this time. I had my best friend, my biggest love, and my most important person right next to me telling me we were okay. We got through that night together. He never left my side, and is everything I could have ever wished for in a husband. We laughed, I cried, we replayed it all in our heads and processed it together. We talked about our children and how we would carefully tell them this news.

We got home at 5 am and thanked our friend for coming over. I carefully went upstairs and kissed both of our babies. This was the moment I looked forward to from the beginning of the night. I feel so unbelievably grateful that we were "okay." I was so happy to be home, with my children and husband..my hero.

The Sum

Addition always came easier for me than subtraction. My son, who just finished Kindergarten, shares with me the struggle of understanding the concept of taking things away. As a grown up, I still wrestle with losing things, or worse people. I can wrap my head around someone giving birth and a new person joining the world, but I struggle to understand death. I know I am not alone in grappling with loss. It just seems that loss leaves you feeling most alone.

As loved ones around me struggle to make peace with illness and impending death, there is a reality that making peace is no easy feat. You can see the evidence, you can hear a doctor say "there is nothing left we can do," you can feel the person you know so well coming and going moment to moment. But nothing can prepare you for the final moment. The hard cold news that someone is never coming back.  I can clearly recall the punch to the gut I felt each time someone I loved took their last breath. My world subtracted a piece and I couldn't accept that piece was gone.

My husband and I are feeling the calm before the storm before someone we love very much passes on. We are all aware that the inevitable end is near, and yet the pain we feel now will soon only hurt more.  Time may heal, but the shock of that moment stings for a long time. Memories may echo forever, but the stillness and emptiness of that missing piece hits so hard.  Our muscle memory to pick up the phone gets so bruised when you remember that person will never be home again. It feels like the darkest storm when suffering and mourning, yet the skies could very well be clear. The heart is so heavy and yet people in the street keep smiling around you. Life seems to go on as if nothing changed, when everything looks different to you. The earth only has so many resources, and human life is meant to come and go. Math has never been my strongest subject though and I still just can't wrap my head around this equation.

Going Through It!

Sometimes the circumstances in our adult lives don't leave you in the mood for a fun day with your kids. Yet, having children forces you to stay on your feet even if you feel like falling. There is a lot going on right now for my family. My mother in law is not well, my father in law is not well, my aunt is struggling to stay alive and my uncle is alive physically but mentally seems to have let go already. There is nothing easy about any of this. My poor husband is trying to carry on balancing a new job, his family and a restaurant while the weight of his heart throws him inside out. His expression and posture right now speak louder than any words he could say.

When someone I love is suffering, I want to be able to help in some way, but none of my actions can take away his pain. I hold him when he breaks down and delicately try to toggle between optimistic and realistic. I listen as he goes between tears and pragmatic, matter of fact acceptance. We all ask questions that nobody can answer. We hang desperately on the words from doctors who deliver them way too harshly. We wait for the next appointment, hoping for some good news. All this while the world keeps turning, with children and jobs that need our attention, and forced smiles while we pretend to be "normal."

On Saturday night, we went out to dinner just the two of us. We had a party to go to afterward, but we took advantage of having a sitter and went out to dinner first. My husband's eyes filled when he thought of his family, and then we would go back to eating or talking about something else. It was actually a lovely evening, despite being a hard time. We were more present together than usual because we weren't distracted or interrupted by the kids and because we let real feelings come and go as they did. I wondered as we left to go to the party, if we should skip it. He wanted to go and was craving normalcy at that moment. It's a strange thing though, when people see you socially and say "how are you?" They don't really expect you to tell the truth. We all want to be authentic with one another, but if you respond with anything other than a smile or a "fine," people don't know what to say. It's no surprise that when things aren't OK in ones life, being around anyone who asks you how you are can send you running in the other direction.

A close friend of mine lost her father last year. She is the most pragmatic person I know. She works on herself constantly, and she was so aware of what was happening with her father's decline. She accepted he was dying with a unique peacefulness and understanding. I mentioned to her that no matter how prepared she was for him to die, that when it actually happened it might hit her harder than she expected. Indeed it did, and she had to go through it, as painful as it was. At some point or another we will all be in this group where we lose someone so close to us. For friends who have already experienced it, I know it isn't a fun club to be a part of. Some of us don't know all the right things to say or do. There should be no judgment or expectations on who responds and how to loss. It is uncomfortable territory for all involved. There is no right thing to say.

There is no rest for the weary, and weariness is exhausting. We don't know what each minute will bring let alone each day. I am doing my best to be a support to my husband. I am so sorry this is the here and now for him. It is painful to go through. It is my hope that the silver lining shines a glare so that it is easier to see in the dark. It might take a while to find.

Unacceptable

This past week many fathers in the country celebrated Father's day. While families barbecued, picnicked or played together, many parents were ripped away from their children. These parents brought their families to America to give them a better life. Now their American dream has turned into a horrible nightmare. America prides itself in taking care of other countries when in need. America portrays itself as "accepting" of all races and religions. America's message on the Statue of Liberty says "Give me your tired your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these the homeless, tempest-tost to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" America did wrong this week and lacked basic human kindness.

Over two thousand children are being held in detainee centers, away from their parents, separated from their siblings and in horrible conditions. The images of these detainee centers reminds me of photos of Japanese internment camps, or screaming children being separated from parents during the Holocaust. It is 2018 and we are having a human rights crisis right here in the United States of America. Border control and immigrant patrol is nothing new, but tearing apart families, and holding children in cages is an all time low.

Fathers day was bittersweet for me. I called my dad, and the kids and I showered my husband with homemade gifts.  But I feel a sadness for the state our country is in. It is hard to stand by and watch the news without doing something to help. Whatever one believes about refugees and rights, no one can deny that this is immoral. We need to do something. A baby was pulled from it's mother while she was nursing yesterday. This has already gone too far.  Hold your babies tight, and then go do something for those who can't.

https://www.facebook.com/donate/490507544717085/10155480834166003/

https://www.refinery29.com/2018/06/201849/how-to-help-parents-children-kids-separated-border

Then and Now

My husband and I just celebrated our ten year wedding anniversary. We went out to dinner and celebrated, but we also renewed our vows. This time, we didn't have one hundred guests, we didn't rent a space, or have it catered. There were no floral arrangements, invitations, or DJ’s. We had a much smaller wedding this time and decided to invite only two guests: our children. 

All together, the four of us got dressed up. My husband wore the same suit he wore ten years ago on our wedding day — I wore my wedding dress. Our kids picked out their fanciest clothes, and we headed to the beach. I had hoped to do something like this, and mentioned it to my husband a few months ago. He decided he would plan it and kept the details from me. He kept it all light and said we were going to the beach and lets get dressed up. I love his surprises, and this time he knocked it out of the park. When we got to the beach, he opened up the trunk and pulled out two red balloons, and a big bag. We walked to the sand and opened up a blanket. The kids played while we enjoyed the beautiful horizon. At one point my husband had music playing and gathered us together at the blanket. 

Through laughter and tears, he read to all of us what he wrote about this day, ten years ago, and how everything he had ever wished for ten years ago had come true. We held hands and by the end of it we were both crying. Our kids were good sports but they definitely giggled at the sight of both their parents crying happy tears. I hadn't prepared anything to read, but I thanked him and agreed with what he said, and added that we are so very full, fortunate and blessed to have what we have. 

Ten years ago when we got married we knew we wanted a family. We only admitted to each other that we wanted a little girl first, and when she came out healthy and beautiful we screamed out as if we had won the lottery. I think the hospital thought we were crazy the way we were giving each other high fives. Not everything comes easy,  and having a baby did not come without a lot of hardship for us, so a few years later when friends had second babies we were a little scared to do it again. When we tried we were able to get pregnant right away, but lost the baby in the twelfth week.  It was a difficult sad time for us. A time that was healed only by the hope of trying again. Eventually we had our son. This time we held our breaths cautiously before we cheered, and when we heard his cry we cried tears of relief and joy that we were now complete: the four of us.

So now ten years later, there are hard days, and sad days, but they are out numbered by wonderful days. We are a strong crew the four of us, and we are not ignorant to life and the challenges it comes with. We know there is pain, loss, sadness and devastation ahead, but we have amazing parents who paved the road for us and we plan to do the best we can to keep paving it for our children. Looking forward to ten, twenty and fifty more years like these.

Partied Out!

This past weekend, I became that mom. The PTA mom, that hosts, plans, and puts on events. The mom that stays up way too late prepping for their son's birthday party. The mom that one of my close friends says she will never be, because she thinks some moms brag about how hard they work for their kids, as if it is a competition. So by day three of poster hanging, school dance purchases, and multiple batches of birthday cake baking, I took pause to reevaluate.

Perhaps, I could have thought out the timing of our school dance being before my son's birthday, but I knew it would be such a fun way to kick off the weekend. I also knew our school could use a fun dance, and wanted to be part of making that happen. My son really wanted ice cream cake for his birthday, and I also wanted to see that happen. Some might say that ice cream and cake can easily be purchased at the store, but I actually love baking. It gives me joy to do these things so it is not a sacrifice. For people who dislike baking, or party planning, well by all means don't do it. There are some of us who actually like putting on a party and there is zero competitiveness behind it. I am not out to impress other moms, I am only out to impress the birthday boy. 

During the school dance, the music was playing and the dance floor was full. Kids were having a great time and my friend and I who planned it all were happy. We both danced with the kids, there was a great turnout, and our candy choices were successful. It wasn't that hard to pull off, and in the middle of the night looking around, I actually said to her, "I really like doing this." There are plenty of school events I don't love to do, but this one wasn't one of them. This was fun for everyone. 

It's important to realize why we say yes to too much at times. I know I need to be more selective, and not make myself available to everything, just because something says "Volunteers Needed." Knowing my skill set, and also choosing to put my energy where I will be most effective is key. I don't have regrets about being spread too thin when its for things I am passionate about. I am proud of what the parents I know have accomplished this year at our school. Our kids are reaping the benefits of a lot of late night planning meetings. When you look at all of the faces, our tired eyes and their smiles say it all.

In the end I am happy to put in the time. I stay off of Pinterest as much as possible, since it seems to be where good intentions go to die, and I try to be creative as much as possible. Yes, I am guilty of staying up way too late icing cupcakes, an ice cream cake, and making a pinata ( my husband helped with that one, super easy but a bit time consuming) but I scored because the next day was Mother's Day. I got the best gift ever: ten hours of uninterrupted sleep. Win win!

Another One Almost Down

How is time moving so quickly? It is nearing the end of the school year. My daughter is finishing fourth grade and will soon be in her last year of elementary school. She reads books faster than I can choose what to start reading, she is taking more interest in style than every before, she loves spending time with her friends, and she can often be found listening to music with headphones. My son is nearing the end of Kindergarten, he learned to read, just mastered riding his two wheeler, and joins us in riding all the way to school. He loves his junk food, and anything skateboard-related. Since the school year began my husband opened up a restaurant with a friend, he continues his work in the music industry, signed a amazingly talented artist, and still managed to be an involved hands-on father. I started this year with a paying voice over job. It was short lived, but fun, I write, teach seniors a few times a week (they are actually teaching me) and participate more hours than I can count as a volunteer at my kid's school. This sounds a lot like an annual holiday card, but really I am writing this all to say that a lot happened this year. Mostly good, some difficult, but all in all it's life being lived to the fullest.

I am grateful for the accomplishments of this year. There have been some challenges with family health. While we go through another year of children growing, it also means our parents are getting another year older. Never before have I felt how precious life is — and how fleeting. We had the pleasure of having my parents stay with us for a few weeks recently. In all honesty, I was terrified at the thought of them staying with us for so long, but my husband encouraged it. We both know we won't always have the luxury of time with our parents, so we made it work. While my parents were here, my father got ill and ended up in hospital. Twice they had to extend their trip until he was well enough to get home to his own doctors. Dignity really goes out the window when you reach a certain age. He finally got to fly home, but had to do it with a catheter, er, attached. While they were here though, we enjoyed good food, countless games of mancala and Crazy Eights, piano playing, and laughing at James Cordon doing musicals in the crosswalk.

  As we enter these last few weeks of the year, I will continue to soak up every second, so that way maybe it won't seem to speed by. My little boy turns six next week. I took him to the store a few days ago and he saw the little coin operated ride at the exit, and said "I used to love that when I was a kid." It was only last year, but to him it was a long time ago. As long as they let me I am going to snuggle these two kiddos. I might hug them a little too close, and I will never be the one to let go first.