Sailboat Parenting

After having lunch with a few friends last week, I ran home to pull my copy of "The Blessing Of A Skinned Knee" I got the book as a hand me down gift years before I even had children. The pages yellowed and stiff from neglect, the cover colors are faded. Now, ten years into parenting, I am finally committed to reading it. The book offers teachings on how to raise self reliant children. I am not usually a fan of parenting books, but I'm am even less of a fan of what I am seeing happening in parenting styles now. Tiger parenting, helicopter parenting, lawn mower parenting, and even curling parenting all terms for parents who are hovering, and over protecting their children. I read an article on raising independent children, and the author mentioned that "parenting" wasn't even coined a term until the last few decades. When we grew up, our parents didn't take classes or attend workshops on how to raise us. They figured it out, and they made some mistakes too. There are many, many "right" ways to raise children. When I sat down to lunch with my friends last week, I got a wake up call on my own parenting. It would be nice if I was sailboating through parenting, and just going with the flow. I too am guilty at times of hovering, curling, and plowing.

We exchanged stories of letting our "saving" our kids. I have thought about the times when my youngest forgets his lunch, and I drop it off at school. Or when my daughter leaves homework, completed and on the table, I fight the urge to prevent her any disappointment, and question bringing it in to school for her. It doesn't take much to see that there is a lot of rescuing of kids going on. All I need to do is stand in our elementary school office, within the first hour after schools starts, and watch frazzled adults bringing, in water bottles, violins, lunches, and homework. We are not helping our children by rescuing them. In fact we are teaching them that they don't have to learn, or remember how to take care of themselves. We are giving them a sense of security that won't help them become independent adults.

I'd like to think I am balanced in my parenting, but I still have a long way to go. I catch myself taking over for my kids when they are trying to learn a new skill. I will grab the can opener out of my daughter's hand at the first sign of struggle. I will tell my son to come down when he is climbing too high on the play structure, I don't let them walk around on their own without trailing too far behind. In a time when free range parenting can result in a call to child protective services, it is hard to raise a kid and give them any freedom. We wonder why more children prefer to sit inside in front of a screen over playing outside. Well, chances are many folks are not letting their kids ride bikes till dusk anymore. Recently, my kids and I passed someone on the street who was smoking a cigarette and my son asked me if I had ever tried smoking. I told the truth, well the partial truth. I said I had, once, and that it was gross and burned my throat. When my daughter asked how old I was, I lied and told her I was in college. The truth is that I was nine when i smoked my first cigarette. In that moment, I realized I was a year younger than her when I started getting into trouble with friends. I am not condoning that she should experimenting tobacco use, but even if she wanted to walk alone to the candy store she couldn't. She is still being driven around in a booster seat.

I'm not sure what the answer is, or where the balance lies, but I do know that trying to prevent my kids having any failure, sadness or anxiety in their lives will never teach them how to actually deal with being afraid. If I don't let them mess up and fail, they will never learn how to pick themselves up. If I provide them with every single thing they need, they will not learn how to fend for themselves. I am learning to trust my own instinct, to know when and where to back off. In the past I would help my kids get out of their bad moods. I will always comfort them with a hug, if they ask, but I don't need to rescue them from their own feelings. That would be the biggest disservice to them. A few skinned knees and bruised egos, is exactly what children need to learn before adulthood. It is indeed a blessing, if I can teach my children that.

Ten and Six

As summer comes to a close (sob) I am soaking in my two kiddos before they start school.  This calm before the school storm is both my best and worst time of year. I don't like thinking about the first day of school. It still brings up the anxiety that I had when I was a kid. New teachers, new rules, responsibility, and routine. Every new school year felt like a threat to my personal freedom. My kids do not feel the same way I did, so I put on a good face for them. When their normal nerves pop up for them, it kind of sends me on high alert. It pains me to see them afraid, uncomfortable, or daunted by school. They handle such issues with much more grace than I ever did. I also love this time of year because we get to play just a bit longer. We take a few beach days, go to the movies, swim and leave the house when we want in the morning.

With more time spent together each day, I get to see every little change as they happen. Both kids are learning and changing so much and in such different ways too. Both my kids are very social so it is fun to watch them get excited about hanging out with their friends. It is also fun to watch the difference between what they both like to do. My son has a friend over and they go outside ride bikes or skateboard. They play with toys in his room and then they ask for snacks. My daughter either wants to write a story with her friends, or make a new iMovie, they like to walk around the area on their own, asserting a fairly new sense of independence.

At six my boy is definitely not quite as cuddly as he used to be. It seems I have to ask for a hug or kisses, when they used to come without prompting. When he does come in for a snuggle now I hold on as long as I can. He called out to me in the middle of the night recently, and by the third time, I asked him what was going on, and he replied"I just missded you." My exhaustion just melted away, as I was smitten by him all over again. My friend calls him Dennis The Menace. Originally because he looked like him, but now also because he pretty much is him. He is sneaky all the time, and when he gets caught he says"I didn't know." He does this  so well, its hard to argue with him, but argue we do.
He walks around referring to my husband as "bro-sky"and calls me "mamasita." He likes rap, at least the kid versions I let him hear. Recently a song came on and he told us we needed to change the song because he heard the f word and that it is inappropriate. Glad he has standards. He also shared his BIG NEWS announcement with us recently that he has his first wiggly tooth. He felt so relieved to no longer be the last friend he knew to have a wiggly tooth. Just like his sister, an adult tooth has poked up behind before the baby one is out. He now reads books to me, and although it requires a lot of patience, I treasure this time each day. He is a new first grader with two days under his belt, and I am so proud of him.

My daughter is ten, and is mostly lovely to be around. She can be sassy sometimes, and it is not something I was prepared for, but I am determined to figure out a response immediately. If she draws a line in the sand with an titanium pole when it's something she wants, or doesn't want, she is pretty weighed down and hard to move. Other than that and some normal sibling bickering, she is like a 35 year old in a ten year old body. She doesn't miss a beat on any conversation around her. She is sensitive and thoughtful. She is so bright and her insightfulness blows me away.

She is also into skateboarding right now. She plays the piano and I love hearing her practice, especially since she is playing some new songs now. She continues to love books, and our favorite thing to do before bed is lie reading our own books side by side. We have a mother daughter book club, and she loves planning the menus and activities with me. She just started her last year of elementary as a fifth grader and Oh the places she will go.

So soon enough we will be back in the swing of it all. We had to have a sugar and screen time detox before the first day. Both kiddos have a sweet tooth like me so we had to indulge in a few more ice cream cones before school started. We took in a few more adventures, a bit of sunshine and as many snuggles as they would let me squeeze in.

Uncharted Territory

Last week, the dreaded day we had hoped would never come, finally did. My mother in law, while surrounded by her husband and children, took her last breath. It doesn't seem to matter how much preparation we had that this loss was coming, the amount of hurt seems larger than we imagined.  Its a surreal time.  Although we are all relieved she is no longer in pain, things just don't feel quite right without her. My heart breaks for my husband and his sisters. They were all so close with their mom.  I know all of them spoke to her every day and now, each time they go to the phone to call, they get stung all over again. My heart breaks for my father-in-law, who can't seem to find peace in a world without his wife in it. So, we all begin this walk, this tread ahead into the unknown.

While heavy hearts pull them down, they are busy making plans. Funeral arrangements, newspaper announcements, hiring help for their ailing father. I watch them being so busy, while they are still so fragile. I helped one of my sister-in-laws go through a dresser of clothes. I always wondered how you could ever go through a loved ones clothes, and then you just do. It feels so invasive to go through someone's things. Even when they aren't here anymore. I couldn't enter her bedroom without crying. Her body isn't there but her spirit was impossible to miss. It seems you can only cry so much, and then you just busy yourself, until you cry again.

Like with any traumatic experience, mornings are so challenging. I watch as my husband is either awakened too early by his racing heart and mind, or sleeps deeply only to remember his sadness when he comes to. He is strong, logical, and understands that everything had to happen this way, but still, this is brutal. The pain of watching a spouse lose a loved one is proving to be incredibly difficult. Knowing when to be there to hold him up and when to let him fall apart, is tricky dance.  This was my husband's mother and it is uncharted territory for him to be on this planet without her. She was his rock and without that foundation he is treading water.

When I was pregnant, a friend shared a quote with me about becoming a parent. "To be a parent is to wear your heart on the outside of your body." It made sense to me the moment I had my daughter. It makes sense to me when I think of the type of mother my mother-in-law was to her children. They came first. She always had an ear to give them, advice to lend and was always their biggest advocate. They knew they came first for her and if their spirits were down, she would move mountains to lift them back up. In mourning someone you love, I feel that quote makes sense again. Only this time the heart is a bit broken and every memory is a bit of salt on the wound.

I am not sure what I believe about heaven, paradise or an afterlife. I do believe that when we close our eyes for the last time, we are peace. I believe that our loved ones want us to miss them, but want more that we live happily. Mostly, I believe that our loved ones live on in us. When a child loses a parent, since every cell of us is made from them, we continue to carry them on. I'm afraid that I will sink far down when I lose a parent, but I am hoping a glimpse in the mirror will remind me that they created who I am. I gently remind my husband of that now. I will remain here, available and ready for whatever emotion he feels. She created a great son. I am so grateful to her for that. I love him and I love her. I will do my best to emulate the kind of mother she was to her kids and raise mine in her honor.

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.

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