Remembering

Last night, my husband and I were watching American Idol. One of the contestants was being interviewed, and she told her story, and how her life changed in one second. She started to tell the story of how she and her husband were in a car accident and he didn't survive. She spoke about the lovely night out they had, and that on their drive home, they were hit head on by someone running a red light. I grabbed my husband's arm and started to cry. The two of us have the same story as her, but without the tragic ending. We both held each other as we listened, knowing full well how close our story was to hers and how very lucky we are that we are both still here.

Having been hit head on twice now by someone who ran a red light, I feel ultra aware to how sometimes the decisions we make have everything to do with what happens to us, and how sometimes it has nothing to do with our choices at all. We could just be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and accidents happen. The first time I was in a car accident, I did not think I would survive. I felt the car spinning, and was almost certain that when it stopped I would be unconscious. I saw the items in my care flying around me, like the tornado scene in "The Wizard of Oz". I had a rush of gratitude for my life up until that point, and I surrendered into what I thought was my last little bit of time alive, and closed my eyes.  I never blanked out though, the car stopped moving, and everything seemed a lot less peaceful from that moment on. Smoke came through the car while I was strapped into my seat belt hanging upside down. With the help of strangers getting me out of the car, I eventually ended up in an ambulance. I didn't have kids then. I wasn't married. My closest family member was 3000 miles away.

The accident we had in June was similar enough to shake me to my core again, but also so very different. At no point when our car had been struck, and was spinning around a major intersection hitting other cars, did I ever surrender. My husband was awake and aware through the whole thing, and was even able to scream out to ask if I was okay. We were both terrified, but we were both together, and so very grateful our children were not with us. That night we were also coming from a lovely evening out together when a car ran a red light and into us. Just like the couple we heard about on TV, we didn't know what hit us, when it happened. We did know that had we had been going just a bit slower, the car that hit us would have T-boned us, instead of us T-boning him. The driver who hit us, was not drunk or texting, just distracted from finishing work, and made a costly mistake. We know he was badly injured, but fortunately he is still alive. Had he hit our car, ten seconds after, my husband would not have likely survived.

Our lives are full of heartache, and pain. That night took a toll on us, but after a few months we were feeling like ourselves again. It is easy to move on, and to be honest, I like not thinking about how close that call was that night. I love my life, and I don't want to get that close to losing it again. It was quite awful. I am aware though that reliving pain is a part of healing though. Research has been done that states that about eight months after trauma, the pain resurfaces again. I thought about that today, and realized that is exactly how long it has been since our accident. As we continue to heal, physically and emotionally, I will never forget the miracle of what we survived. As we spent the night at the hospital, all I wanted to do was get home and kiss my babies. When we finally did, I wept. I was so happy to be healthy enough to get home to them.

Yosemite

When I was an angst-y teenager, I came out to LA to visit my cousins who lived here. My Aunt was this seemingly free spirited hippy. She had long crazy blond curls, the highest cheekbones I ever saw, and a sing-songy tone to everything she said. Her 3 boys were a year older, exactly my age and one year younger than me. In my mind they were so "LA" - they all had long hair and used words like "rad." They had so much freedom and independence, and I was so attracted to the adventure they seemed to have in their day-to-day life. I took a liking to my Aunt, and learned that if she had had a girl, she would have named her Yosemite. I tried to offer myself to be the daughter she never had, but I never quite fit that roll for her.

It is fascinating to me what a few years of maturity will bring in the way of observing others. Just barely out of my teens, I was able to see that free spirit parenting really translated into absentee parenting, and that hippy style that I coveted, didn't always provide a sense of security a child needs. My cousins seemed to have freedom, because most of the time they were on their own. I never fit in as their sister, because looking back they were protecting me from getting too close.

Family is complicated though, and for all the bad we are aware of, there is always another side. There is the sometimes fleeting affection, or the once in a while "I love you" or an ability to forgive, that keep families somewhat together. Having just spent some concentrated time with my husband, my brother his children, my children and my parents, I can really understand how family dynamics can lead to explosive eruptions. My parents are not easy, in fact I would say at times they can be pretty hard going. They are aging, which in of itself is pretty uncomfortable for them. My mother is not comfortable with silence, so a long car ride can be challenging. They both have a tendency to worry, so going with the flow isn't a familiar concept for them. Add in some complaining and forgetfulness and even the most patient person can feel frustrated. My husband is the most patient person, yet I felt him losing his grip on that patience a few times on this trip.

I love my parents, and I am not sharing my experience with them in order to vent. I also have no intention of hurting them. I am writing because I think being torn between the family you grew up with and the family you made can be a painful game of tug-of-war. I also think it is relate-able to so many, yet when you are in the middle of it, you can feel lonelier than you have ever felt before. That is how I felt after a few days of being all together.

We drove back from beautiful Yosemite. It was my first time there, and it was a big family trip with my side of the family. There were no major outbursts or issues, just little annoying moments here and there, but over a concentrated few days, those little moments can build up. We actually had a wonderful trip, and Yosemite is unlike anything I had ever seen. I am sure the breathtaking views provided us with a sense of calm that was impossible to not feel. That last stretch home though, we all needed some personal space, and there was a question of what we were going to do for dinner. My husband just really wanted to finish the drive and get home. He had been a trooper and so flexible the whole trip, but he was done. When someone suggested we go to a market, he snapped back a little. This was nothing in comparison to the snappy remarks I am capable of making when I am annoyed with my parents, but because it came from him, I suddenly felt protective and defensive of both sides. I needed to be alone and I took a little space once we got home. I felt lost for a bit. I was upset with both sides, and yet understood them both too. I longed to reconnect everyone, but also knew some space and time would fix matters on their own.

Yosemite will stay with me. I long to go back again, even with this very same mix of people. We came home and watched "Free Solo" and seeing how that climber grew up, with his own dose of weird family dynamics, gave me a new-found appreciation for mine. I can understand the draw to this massive park, as there is something in it for all of us. I am glad my name is not Yosemite, and I am still proud to be a party of my crew, crazies and all.

Friends In Far Places

Friendships come into ones life in so many different ways. Who people connect with, and why, can determine a life long bond or not. Since becoming a parent it is interesting to notice how my time is spent with friends. There are times where I just crave a night with my close friends from the past, and times where I need people who understand exactly what is facing me in the present moment without having to fill them in. Such close friends are pretty special and I am so grateful for them. It seems though that very few of my closest friends live very close by.

New York is still home to my friends that I grew up with. Most of them have children of their own now, and once a year our families see each other. I love seeing our kids play. There is something magical to seeing history repeat itself in the next generation of friendships. Then there are the friends here in Los Angeles that I treasure, and once they have had kids they chose other parts of LA to move to. Friends whose apartments in our twenties were walking distance away are now on the opposite side of the city. Those friends, I see much less than I want to, but it is always so great catching up when we do.

It saddens me when I think of friendships that only lasted a moment in time. It is a part of life and I don't know any woman who cannot say they haven't seen a friendship or two that doesn't last. When memories of those friendships come into my mind, I have to replay in my mind what went wrong. Some relationships I noticed are not convenient anymore. Once one party moves away it takes two to keep the contact going. If I was the only one picking up the phone after while, I stopped calling. Some of us have grown apart, and some I notice when we are together they spend so much time complaining, or speaking so unkindly about other friends. Lately, my time feels so precious to me. When I sit down with a close friend, I really want it to make me feel good. Even if hard things are going on in each other's lives, I want to feel like we can build each other up in some way, instead of the opposite.

I spent the last few weeks with one of my closest friends. She flew in from London, and now not only do the two of us pick up where we left off so do our kids. At times, people used to joke that we were a bit too inseparable. Another friend of mine implied once that we spend a lot of time together and maybe it looked a bit co dependant. I don't agree, and I don't really care, because I am so glad I did, because now she is back in London, so whatever time I have with her is never enough. Here is a post from years ago when she just went back for a visit, and we missed her. http://www.twig-hugger.com/2011/02/london-is-calling.html. Now that she and her family are there for good, we soak up our time together as much as we can.

While she was here, we went down memory lane a bit. In addition to eating at some of our favorite places, we ran into some familiar faces too. We took the kids back to their old preschool to say hello to their teachers from six years ago. The kids played at the same playground where we spent everyday with them. We learned that it will be remodeled soon so I am glad they got one last time there. The years seem to be flying by, and looking back the time has been filled with many changes. I know houses, schools, and playgrounds are just things but they hold so many feelings and memories. It felt bittersweet to be there all together again in those places.

This visit our girls went away together on a camping trip. Two nights away without us, and with no contact either. They were brave and came home so happy. Our boys spent hours and hours together, swimming and playing. Our husbands seem to restart the same conversations and jokes from the last visit, and my friend and I continue to start many talks that bleed into the next, some that get finished, and some that don't. She lives further away than any other friend, and yet we are in touch just the same. We share recipes, face time, share clothes, and advice. It is never easy to say goodbye to her. Looking forward to the next visit. So are our kids.

He Will Blow Us All Away

When I got pregnant with our third baby, I didn't care anymore what gender the baby was. I would visualize holding a healthy full term baby in my arms and didn't fully relax until that vision came to fruition. When we could find out what the baby's gender was we did, and it was a boy. We were all so excited, with the exception of our daughter who wanted a sister. When he arrived, I finally did exhale completely. Then I fell asleep from exhaustion. My hopes of never comparing my two children proved challenging. Regardless of gender, I only had my first experience as a basis for a guidebook. From the moment I looked at him, he was so different than her.

I didn't fall him love with him as instantly as I did with her. I had a harder birth, and out of the gate was exhausted, then he had a very hard time and needed medical care in the hospital for a few days after having him. I felt pulled from the get go. I did not want to leave this new baby's side, but I also missed the normalcy with my daughter. I wanted to get home and start our new normal. After a month or so I fell in love with him. Truthfully the adjustment to loving both of them wasn't an easy one, and not just for me. My daughter let me know then, she wasn't a happy camper. She loves her brother, and he idolizes her. She has a loyalty to him, and will be the first one who steps up to protect him when he needs her. This will be the last year of them in the same school together, and I will miss watching her walk him to his class, hand in hand.

She is a successful kid. She is friendly, outgoing, smart, and most things she sets her mind to come easily for her. As he grows older and more aware of her accomplishments, he can feel cold in her shadow. She got an award for poetry last week and was prized a trophy. He had to stay patient for an hour through the award ceremony. That was after we praised her for such a great report card that afternoon, as well as attending her piano recital. They both did a choir concert together, which was great, but this kid needed a win of his own. I felt it, my husband felt it, so certainly he felt it.

He has been taking dance now for a few months, and he is good at it. He is not the kind of kid who says goodbye easily and runs off into a new class. He took much convincing to try this class, and for the first 4 or 5 weeks he didn't want to go. He always ended up having fun, but initially, he was scared to walk in the door. When they started learning choreography for a recital, I was skeptical that he would preform. For a month leading up to the show, he would go back and forth. Some days he would come out of class saying it was so much fun, and he wants to do the show. Other times he would say "no way." He finally agreed and so we committed. Two days before he got cold feet again. I was really torn about whether or not I should push him to do this. It was out of his comfort zone, but if he was backing out because of fear, I didn't want him to let nerves win. My husband showed him videos of him in his dance class having fun. He explained that doing the show would be fun like class. We also may have told him we would get him a trophy. He has been coveting his sister's for quite sometime and really wanted to earn one himself.

Not only did he agree to do the show, but he also showed up and hour before, said goodbye to us, and rose to the occasion. From the minute he stepped foot on that stage, I was amazed. He knew every step, every move, and even smiled. He was having a great time, and I bouncing up and down in my seat watching him. Tears welled up in my eyes. I was so proud of him, and so impressed. I will never underestimate him again. He blew us all away.

Noticing

I am taking pause. My breath seems to sneak away from me when I see the changes in my daughter. Never before did  I think that "Tween" was something that described my daughter. When she turned nine, and someone called her that, it didn't make sense. I thought it was just a branding term companies used to market to a whole new set of potential customers. Only now, a few months away from eleven, do I fully understand what a tween is.

My little girl, who is still so small for her age, is sometimes ever-so-slightly changing, and sometimes not so slightly. Her feelings are flowing in a tornado and she can't always explain why she is crying. She spends more time in her room, to feel, or to feel less. She speaks so well, carries herself with such confidence and is so mature, and yet sometimes, she is still a child who just wants to be silly.  She is now seemingly more aware of how people perceive her, and more concerned about how she is perceived.

She is embarrassed more often. She doesn't always want to play at the playground, and when her brother asks her to play with him, he doesn't understand why she won't. He comes and asks me, why she's in a bad mood so often. We are all getting lost trying to follow her these days. She herself, is confused by her feelings. This is the in between, not a little girl, not yet a teenager, somewhere in the middle. She pushes me away and then comes to me with her arms open, asking for a hug.

What I wouldn't give to hold her as a baby again. Just for a moment, to see her clasp her long baby fingers wrap around my hair and tangle us together. If I could feel the fullness of her cheeks. I can almost smell her downy wisps of hair, so I can't wrap my head around how she is ten going on eleven already. I can't comprehend, how she is changing before my very eyes. This little girl made me a mother, and I am so proud of who she is becoming, I just can't believe how fast we got here. I am taking pause.

Graduation

With every spirit day that happens at my children's school this year, I realize that for my daughter, this one will be her last. She will graduate fifth grade in the Spring and head to Middle School next year. She is ten, and has been at the school longer than she will be at any one school in her future. She has many close friends, and a comfort level in the school, as it has been her second home for quite some time now. This year I am watching her enjoy every last second of school. She participates in every extra event that is available to her, and she and her peers walk around as upper-class(wo)men this year with a pride that is well deserved.

She will be ready for middle school, and it is no surprise that I might not be ready to send her. The flip side of being a emotional, sensitive person for me, is that it also brings over-thinking, and an ability to be overly sentimental. Change is good, healthy and necessary. I just feel like time, since having children has moved faster than I have ever felt it move prior. I never once in my 29th year, said, "Oh, my twenties have flown by" because they definitely didn't. My husband reminds me that I need to figure out a way to see the bright side to these big changes. I am happy and proud of my children when they graduate to the next stage, but I just also mourn the loss of the end of a chapter.

Having older parents also reminds me daily of the passing of time. My parents are slowing down, and we are no longer able to do the kind of things as a family that we used to. There is some element of denial for me with this. I keep thinking when this ailment passes we can take that trip together, or when she feels better she can play outside with my kids again. The reality is the opposite. They won't get better, they will get worse. Watching this happen to loved ones makes it really difficult to not feel existential thoughts. It does make me savor every second, and makes me want to sit still a bit more.

My last few months have been so busy that I am having a hard time believing Spring is almost here. There have been swarms of beautiful painted lady butterflies swarming the streets here. It is unlike anything I have ever seen before. It stopped me in my tracks, made me realize the turning of the season, and provided me with a moment with my children to step out of ourselves and look around. It was magical. We may not get swarms of butterflies everyday, but I am sure I can find some daily miracles that can make me stop and look around each day. My parents are coming for a visit next week and I am sure all of us all together will find a lot of those moments.

Right Here, Right Now

Mindfulness is the practice of being in this moment — right here, right now. I teach children in school on this subject. I do breathing exercises, I have them close their eyes to focus on their surroundings, I have them slow down and pay attention to details. I worked with a group of six and seven year old this morning, and it was a particularly challenging morning for them to focus. I came home and realized I am having the same difficulty focusing myself. As I write this, my phone is distracting me with emails and texts, I am having a smoothie between typing, and my head is all over the place. I am by no means practicing what I preach.

I am feeling a bit overwhelmed lately. I have a big event I am planning, my schedule feels a bit busier than usual, I am making lists but I am putting the lists in so many different places, so I am having trouble figuring out what to do first. I am trying to balance being productive while also knowing when to chill out. I definitely don't know how to do the latter so easily, but I suppose that is why mindfulness is often referred to as a "practice." Time management is not my strongest skill, so I have started to look in to ways to help me, like timers, or apps, but I am not the most tech savvy so when I start messing with a time saving app, I lose time trying to figure it out.

Since acknowledging my head is spinning doesn't seem to stop the thoughts flying around, I will try to get some of them out here. I don't sleep enough.  I need to start the washing machine. I wonder if Target will take back a pair of pants my husband bought without a receipt. I don't really like going to ask that. My lips are so chapped. I hope I am not coming down with something. I need to get groceries, and make some work calls before I pick up the kids, and I can't figure out which of those two things to do first. What should I make for dinner tonight? What else do I need at the store while I am out? I'm so tired, I wonder if I could squeeze in a 20 minute nap before picking the kids up at school.

Now that I got that all out, I will start knocking them down one by one. If nothing else today I am going to try and remind myself that I can only really do one thing well at a time. Even if it means focusing right here right now for a few minutes at a time, that is my goal for today. If those first graders can do it, I can too. Granted, they don't have email accounts or phone numbers, but I am up for a challenge.