Unfair!

I take my boy swimming twice a week at the Y. This is the single activity that he does right now that is not shared with his sister. He has made his own friends from this class and has learned to be with his peers as well as to swim. He has three close friends there, but recently one hasn't been lateley. My son kept asking for his friend and I meant to reach out to his babysitter but before I could I got a message from the babysitter to call her and that she had something important to discuss.

This boy's family has chosen a great woman to care for their kids. She is strong, loving and respects the family a lot -- and it shows. When I picked up the phone to call her back I couldn't imagine what was so important and had hoped that they were still working together. The couple, in addition to the two and half year old, had a new baby. I thought perhaps it got too much for the sitter to care for them both while at the gym. I was making up all sorts of possible scenarios, but nothing prepared me for what she told me. This little sweet boy has cancer. He was completely symptom free until they found some bumps around his thoracic region. They took him in and found his kidney to be completely covered by tumors.

As I sat on the phone listening to this woman tell me how strong and brave the little boy had been, I lost my breath and my tears blurred my eyes. How and why should this happen to someone so young? Someone so full of life, and so little time to have experienced it. This child was jumping into the pool and laughing with my boy just weeks before and now is stuck in a hospital bed. It isn't fair. It is human nature to look for answers when something terrible happens. I thought back to a child I know of who has Leukemia and that in his particular case he may have gotten it from an X-ray being done when he had another infection in his body. The radiation caused the cells to multiply. I immediately wondered if something happened to this little boy that could have caused his cancer, but there wasn't. Cancer is random and doesn't always have a reason for showing up. This just doesn't make sense to me. You can be the healthiest person or the smallest most innocent person, and still get the most fierce of illnesses.

The family has asked that everyone say a prayer for this little boy and wish him the healthiest of recoveries. He had one kidney successfully removed two weeks ago but it seems that the cancer has spread to his lungs as well. He has a break now from the poking and prodding at the hosptial and will be home for a bit before starting chemotherapy. This boy's smile is thawing to the sadness that accompanies his story. I pray that his spirit carries his body as gently as possible to what lies ahead.

Please see attached link if you would like to help Jack's family.

http://www.youcaring.com/mckenzie-o-neal-patrick-o-neal-356766#.VV65ZcOJSkg.email

Milking It!

There was not a lot with either of my pregnancies that went easily. From the time I conceived my daughter I was in pain. I had a small fibroid that was fighting for the blood supply from the fetus. It was an agonizing battle but after a month of nights doubled over uncertain if the pregnancy would actually stick, the fetus won and the pain went away. A week after that I began my Hyperemesis Gravedarum causing nausea and vomiting until week 16. At week 13 I had lost so much weight I went on a medication in hopes that it would stop the vomiting and help me gain weight. Instead it caused me to have jaw lock for a whole day. By then I was both dehydrated and exhausted. I definitely did not have the natural glow some women speak of during pregnancy. In fact I felt quite beaten up by the whole thing.

When I was pregnant with my son I knew what to expect so I didn't touch medication and I had an IV drip twice a week to prevent dehydration. I didn't have the fibroid problem, or have hours of jaw lock but I spent day after day throwing up. Each morning it felt like groundhog day and that time was not on my side. I developed much empathy for those who live with chronic illness or constant pain. Nothing in your life feels the same as it once did when you are distracted my the intensity of discomfort. I spent as many hours as I could upright with my then three year old daughter, and I took as much help as I could from friends and family. It was a difficult time for all of us, but I knew eventually it would end. Unlike truly ill people my suffering would hopefully result in something beautiful. With that hope I tried to keep my eye on the prize and stay as patient as I could.

I wouldn't say labor or birth was easy either time but they were relatively uncomplicated. Both babies took a while to get with the coming out part so I was late and labored long both times. It was challenging but manageable and I was able to have both births without pain medication. I wanted to avoid anymore medication complications since I seemed to be in the small percentage of people affected by all the warnings in the small print. I also wanted to try it naturally. It was not easy but I gave birth to two healthy children both of whom latched on to nurse straight away.  I am aware how difficult nursing can be in the beginning for so many new mothers, and I am sensitive to the feelings of wanting to breastfeed and not being able to, and how hard that must be. I did finally have one thing go easily and I was grateful, I was relieved, and I was in love.

Nursing was such a special gift of closeness between me and my babies. I loved how it was a built in quiet time several times in an otherwise hectic time of adjusting. It was amazing to me how my body was able to produce nourishment for this infant. I marveled at how calming it was for both of us during feeding times. I felt the oxytocin and it indeed gave me a wonderful blissful love for my babies. I was a big advocate for nursing and had no shame where I nursed. I didn't have the biggest boobs so I felt covered my my baby when nursing in public. I never had a fabric shade because I didn't want to hide my baby under it. I was proud and if anyone stared I stared back.

I nursed my daughter until she was two. I didn't plan on going that long in the beginning but as one approached I knew neither of us were ready to be done yet. When she was eighteen months I began to wean her. One feeding at a time and over the course of a few months she was weaned. My horomones post weaning went crazy and similarly to pregnancy I had a rare reaction. It took me a while to learn but I know now that my body is extremely sensitive to hormonal shirts. I should start praying now for what I will have to endure during menopause.

When my son turned two I began the same weaning process. More carefully this time and again with the knowledge that it might be challenging for me hormonally. I tried to drop a feeding and he was so resistant. I tried to change the times of when we nursed around but he was too stuck to his routine. I let it go to revisit a few months later. At that point I nursed him three times a day and no matter how many ways I tried I was unsuccessful at dropping one. We also kept moving then. Four moves in a year and a half so all the changes were excuses to keep something the same for him. Suddenly it seemed he was two and half. I was then ready to push for one less feeding and eventually got down to a single one before bed. He treasured that time though and no pun intended but he milked it. He would drag it out so long to the point that I was more than ready to end it. I was stuck for a while on how but with his third birthday coming I knew it was time.

My husband and I went away for a weekend. A necessary first for both of us, but a hard first for my kids. My son surprised us though. I prepped him and explained that he will be three when we get back and that he won't need to nurse anymore. I pointed out babies nursing and explained how they needed it but big boys got to eat real food and even candy. He was staying with my sister in law and nephews and when we called in to say hello he would say "I'm not sad, I a big boy." When we came home that Sunday he told us that he was a big boy and that he doesn't nurse. We were impressed but when we got home that night he went right to the chair to nurse and begged. It was so hard for both of us that night to accept that things change and that babies grow up. He pleaded, and determined to stay strong I explained that he was big now. He cried and said that he wasn't three yet and that his birthday wasn't yet so he was still two and half. So young and already so good at arguing. We made it through that night without nursing, and we haven't since. He is officially weaned. We both are doing very well. He still asks for it, but knows its over. I hold him and cuddle a lot now. We are both going to need a bit more time accepting babyhood is over. In the end I am proud I nursed as long as I did. As this chapter of my life comes to a close I will remember the start of motherhood sweetly and hope that if new mothers after me want to and are able to nurse I hope it will offer them the same joy.

First Grade Finale!

It's mind blowing to me how rapidly this school year flew by.  I can't believe my girl is almost through with first grade. She started out on that first day so afraid, and with tears in her eyes she braved the first day in a new school as the only new kid in her class. It took her a month or so to admit she liked it, but she would add not as much as last year. By December she admitted to be though that she liked her new school even more than last year.

It took me time to warm up to the school as well. I held the experience at our previous school in very high regard, so in the beginning all I did was compare the elements that weren't like that. I also came around to like this school better for many reasons but especially because of the sense of community. There is just something about Culver City that makes you feel welcome. I appreciated that being the newbies this year. The city itself has so many community events that are created with families in mind.

One thing that I was afraid we would never be able to replicate from last year was the amount of school spirit from the teachers and students. Last year there was an assembly every Friday and kids would wear their school shirts. I was disappointed to learn that at this school there would be an assembly only once a month. What I didn't know though was how many spirit days, and activities and events would be happening in between.

She had crazy hair day, sports team day, pajama day, tropical day, jog-a-thon and hat day. She was in the school choir and they performed a few times throughout the year. They had several movie nights, when kids would come in PJ's and bring sleeping bags. They got to go on field trips, they had science night, game night, and bingo night.  Each grade focuses on a different social studies unit and for first grade they learned how to square dance as part of their unit. If that wasn't enough they had a family Sports day.  The school earlier in the year was divided into "families"grouping a teacher with a child or two from each grade giving the kids an opportunity to meet teachers and students from the whole school. On Family sports day each team wore a different color and competed and relay's and played games.

Her confidence has grown and her academic accomplishments have soared. She was student of the month the first month of school but what came after that was what was so impressive to me. Her classroom has a bunch of kids that love to read and that passion is contagious apparently. She will read sometimes two full chapter books a night. I have to go tell her to turn her light off so she can go to bed. She loves writing and math and comes home each day and diligently does her homework.  She worked hard each week on spelling words and as a result has gotten 100% on every test. She loves school and is sad that this year is almost over.

I was never like this and am so happy to see that my negativity and procrastinating leaning didn't rub off on her. She accomplished so much this year and I am so proud of her. I am beyond impressed with her abilities, determination and  joae  d viv. There is no lack of school spirit, not in my girl anyway.

Oh 3!

Today is my sweet boy's birthday. He can be such a joy. He sings Beatles songs at the top of his lungs. He loves trains, skateboards, scooters, cars and monster trucks. He loves to play in the dirt, and he loves to swim. He is so affectionate, he kisses and hugs, and won't let his sister start school each day with a big hug and kiss from him before she goes. He says "I love you" a lot. He is beautiful and we are proud. Most of the time.

He can be adorable but he is also a bruiser. He is that kid that you take over to someone's house to play and if someone snatches something out of his hands he will hit them. We just went to a little boy's house to play and when that boy didn't want to share his car, my boy took it from him and hit him in the head with it. Oh, and that's not all. He can be a screamer and a biter too. He wanted a gumball recently (he doesn't chew gum-he turned three yesterday) and I said no and he started screaming in the store. I lifted him up to leave after offering him some other toys, but he just screamed and then scratched and hit me in the face. We are not physically violent people here so he must have a touch of the devil in there somewhere.

I know so much of this is his age, and that he will out grow it (I hope.) I've been the parent who has to apologize for him at the park, and remind him that throwing sand isn't nice. I have read books, articles, asked advice from friends, and tried multiple tools to help him react differently. So far not so successfully. My husband and I are not used to this behavior at all. Our daughter is pretty much the most obedient kid when it comes to school. At home if she acts out inappropriately she pretty much only needs to be told once why what she did wasn't a great idea. There is no reasoning with our son though, no distracting, no negotiating, no listening.

Some of the things we have tried are saying that we don't want him to do that and that it can hurt someone. We have explained after he hits that he doesn't get to be with us when he hits and that we need a little space. Then we try to walk away but he doesn't let us. We both know that the worst things we could do would be to hit, bite or scream back, but somehow sometimes we just can't help it. He evokes some mean parenting in us to and we react. I don't like it nor do I think it has ever been effective, but it has happaned. I have screamed right into his face "STOP HITTING" and if anyone ever yelled like that at me. I am pretty sure I wouldn't ever hit again but not so for him. I fear the day he starts preschool, and all the new parents I will have to apologize to, but I have heard that starting preschool can be the single most helpful thing for kids who hit. They learn by being socialized what is acceptable for others, not just what us parent folks want him to do. So here is hoping that three brings on some positive change. I know three was pretty rough for my daughter but I am hoping since two wasn't so pretty for him at times that three will get better. We are only a few hours in and its not off to the best start but I hear three and a day can be magical!

Run!

My friend ran the LA Marathon this year. She is 39 and it was her goal to complete a marathon before she turned 40. She is a runner, and a fast one at that, so this was not an unreasonable goal. That being said, it was still an extremely challenging task to take on. But she did.

She had a set time she wanted to achieve and as circumstances were that day, she wasn't able to obtain it. She is a competitive and determined person so it was disappointing that she didn't meet her expectations. Those expectations! This year the marathon fell on an extremely hot day, and her friend who was driving with her got stuck in traffic so they were running late. She had a nervous stomach so she didn't feel great, and when they finally arrived she was left with no time to stretch and just had to start. She felt sick for a lot of the run and had to slow down and walk a lot. She finished though and still in what I thought was great time. She wanted to do better though and so she will try again.

A few days before she ran, Twig ran at the jogathon at her school. It was also ridiculously hot weather. She had a goal of getting around the track 7 times. Each time the kids got a stamp to count the laps as they went. She was determined, and like my friend, she is fast and goal oriented. She met her goal and then some. She ran a total of 11 laps! We were all so pleased with that. She went back to class after that and probably hasn't thought much about it since.

Watching the marathon my friends and I had some very different reactions. We wondered why people would put themselves mentally and physically through such a difficult task. For some, the answer was obvious in that they were runners and so they run. Others ran for a cause and they were getting sponsors so they could donate funds they had raised. I suppose others just wanted to be able to say they did it. I'm not sure this would ever be reason for me to run. I feel pretty content with saying I have never run a marathon. I am confident in my abilities to accomplish some other difficult-to-obtain goals. Never the less, it was emotional to watch so many people out there running.

My friends who also watched that day joked about writing signs that said "You don't need to finish" --  in hindsight, it is funny because when you watch some of these people it looks like they are about to die. They wanted this so badly though and they worked so hard for this one day. It was hard to watch without getting choked up sometimes. I saw people pushing someone in a wheel chair with a sign saying they were running for him. Or a blind man running with a guide. Young, old, heavy and thin. All races, all ethnicities and people from all socioeconomic strata

I am usually so moved by big events like this that I was afraid I might be encouraged to put this on my bucket list. I wasn't though because I realized I have finished some pretty hard marathons in my life to date. I succeeded in surviving two pregnancies with Hyperemesis Gravadarom. It was no easy feat, but it took focus, stamina, and all my strength to keep my eye on the finish line.

Encouragment

I heard a story yesterday about a study about praise and children. They gave two sets of kids a problem to solve and when both groups got the correct answers they told one group that they were so smart and the other group was acknowledged for doing it but asked if they could try another problem. The one that what praised didn't try as hard second time around. Being told they were so smart made them feel they didn't have to work so hard. The group given the basic acknowledgment went on to try harder.

This got me thinking about all the different ways we can praise our kids. I often think about blending what I got from my folks and what my husband's parents got from his. My parents had the best of intentions and I think the encouragement I got from them was meant to be practical, but practical can often feel negative. I come from a family of worriers so "go for it", or "try it and see what happens" wasn't likely to be the response when I came home wanting to try something new. It was more a concerned "is that a good idea?" which as a result often made me question my choices. It didn't always provide me with the strongest self esteem but it does give me great tools for overthinking things out.

My husband was raised with so much praise and support that he really does believe he could try anything. His parents told them that they were amazing and could accomplish whatever they put their mind too. I get the sense that if he or his sisters felt the were wronged by another child that their mom would quickly come to their side as opposed to questioning if maybe they misread the other child intentions. I think this kind of support is wonderful but it does at times come with a price. The ego is a delicate thing and if one's ego is slightly inflated then criticism is often disregarded as opposed to taken constructlivley. I'm not saying this was the case with my husband but I see this reflected in the entitled generation that now is in their twenties.

Like everything else I think a balance is needed for encouragement. There are so many new schools out there today. Private, charters, magnet, specialty and regular public schools. You can find a school where your kid can go to a cool off corner with no shame, as opposed to being sent to the principals office. I wanted to send Twig to a Warldof public school where she learned at her own pace in a non traditional way. It didn't work out for us geographically and in the end she is in the perfect place for her. When I say perfect I need to stress that no place is perfect, but a traditional academic school challenges her and she likes that challenge. She also thrives on the structure and the need to assimilate to what her peers group is doing. That doesn't mean she is a robot and can't express her creativity because she can, but it means that she has to figure out how to navigate safely and comfortable within the setup of the system. So many people are looking for that outside the box establishment but at some point it is helpful to learn how to succeed within the box too.

I will definitely high five my kid when they do something well, but I will also say how can we do this differently next time if there is room for improvement. A child doesn't need to be the best but they do need to be their personal best. It's so individual, and thats why I think a balance is so crucial.

Old Friend

I got a random email last week from one of my closest friends from growing up. He and I used to be so close. Having him as a friend proved the point that you can have a best guy friend...until you can't.
I met him in third grade, we were a year apart in school, and he always felt more like a brother or a cousin than just a friend. Our friendships sustained from elementary school through college, and even through our twenties. When I moved here to LA he stayed in New York, but we continued to visit each other. There was never any chemistry between us -- we were just really good friends, until he met his wife.

I think we were in our late twenties when he met her and he knew pretty quickly that she was the one he would settle down with. He was that type of guy, the settling down type. I was not that type of girl then. So I think I was conflicted about him getting there so fast in his life. I met her twice and the second time I met her I made a joke about them getting married so soon. She didn't think it was funny. In fact, she didn't take it as a joke. My own feelings for losing him as the kind of friend I knew him to be caused me to stir the pot a bit with her. I think in hindsight I was sad to see him settle down so fast. It meant the end of a phase of having vacations, or taking him as my "date" when I was single. I wasn't quite ready to lose him. She wanted me out of his life though and I could see that pretty early on.

I tried to remedy our situation when I went back to live in New York one summer. He came to meet me for lunch. It was the summer before their wedding and he told me she didn't want to invite me to his wedding. He said if I wanted to be there though I should come. He has never cared much for ceremonies himself and chose to not attend his own college graduation, so I knew he meant it when he said the actual wedding day was more for her than for him, I decided that since I knew it would hurt her for me to be there that I couldn't do that to someone on their wedding day. That day at lunch though I had a hand written apology for her in my bag. While we were having lunch I asked how I might be able to fix things and he said she asked if I would apologize. On cue I took out the card for him to give to her. I never heard anything from her, and I never saw my friend again after that day.

Time has past though. I believe that was over ten years ago, and I have tried to reach out once or twice. I didn't hear anything from him but through his mom I learned they had a son and a daughter. I had hoped with the news that I had gotten married and had children of my own that we could let it all be water under the bridge. When I think about how close we were it makes me sad not to know him as a father. He is probably a great dad, since he had such a fun spirit and really enjoyed life. I was pretty surprised when I got an email for him. We filled each other in briefly but made a time to talk on the phone. We caught up as much as we could with details but nothing about what had happened in the past or if we would ever see each other in the future. He said he would send me some photos of his kids but I never got them. We were talking while he was driving back to his house on a Sunday afternoon. When he got home he seemed to have to get off pretty quickly. I wonder if his wife is even aware he reached out to me, and if I wonder if I will ever hear from him again.

My daughter is now about the age that I was when I met my friend. She has a bunch of close girlfriends but this year she also has made two very good friends that are boys. Watching them I hang out and play together it makes me happy that she gets joy out of all her friends gender aside. I do wonder though if they grow up together and remain close will some relationship later get in the way of friendship. Obviously some people can handle change and accept new people, but in case they can't I will be here for her to say "I understand how you feel." Having to lose a friend is not as painful in as having your heartbroken but often a heartbreak goes away. A loss of what I thought was a lifelong friendship seems to stay with me.