Rituals

In Kindergarten, my daughter's teacher read them "The Kissing Hand" on the first day of school. From that day on it became our ritual to kiss her hand before she said goodbye at the door. She even asked for an extra kiss for her hand at bedtime. Today, before walking across the bridge to middle school she holds out her hand for me to kiss. It gives her that extra little sense of security. It also has become such a habit of ours, that it has  become second nature now.

My two kids are at a great age right now. We are out of the baby phase. We can pretty much pack a bag in a few minutes and take off to go anywhere. The kids are easy to travel with, they are adventurous diners, they like to hike and bike with us, and they can have a great conversations now. Sure, occasionally there is a meltdown, even I have them now and again, but the kids are generally much easier these days. We are having a lot of fun together as a family in a way that I have been looking forward to for quite sometime and I am grateful.

Recently, the kids and I went on a bike ride with some friends. There were three other moms and nine kids. We rode for about ten miles and I was so impressed how well my kids were keeping up. There was no complaining, whining, or tears. Granted, there were other kids watching them, so having a freak out is far less likely when you are with your peers, but I was still proud of them. My friend and I talked about the kids ages right now and how much fun we are having, then we allowed ourselves to get a bit nostalgic about when they boys met back in preschool. We can't believe how that phase is just over. She mentioned this book that acknowledges the "lasts" of parenting and how so many people focus on the "firsts" but the last diaper you change is certainly worthy of celebrating.

There are so many little rituals that we have in our family. Some of which are phasing out naturally. We used to sing the same three songs to our first baby and when she grew out of lullabies we passed them on to number two. Quite a few nights have gone by without the bedtime singing ritual. My son doesn't sit on my lap for a bedtime book anymore either, but instead sits beside me while we read on our own. I miss holding him, but I love the new rituals too.

There are no more nap times, high chairs or onesies at our house. There is a baby gate up though and a small puppy who isn't quite potty trained yet. When I get impatient at how many accidents she has, I remind myself how very quickly each phase goes and that she won't be this small for long. Before I know it, we will be all be missing this sweet puppy time and marveling at how big she has gotten. So for now, I will enjoy all our rituals before it morphs into the next phase.

December 1st

In my early twenties I moved out here to Los Angeles. I found what I thought to be an amazing housing situation with two roommates on the bottom floor of a beautiful Spanish duplex. I found out about it from the woman who was moving out. That alone should have tipped me off, but the rent was so inexpensive and the place so nice, I couldn't see beyond those details. The two women I moved in with had zero social skills and rarely came out of their rooms. When they did though, our interactions were always so uncomfortable. I ended up staying there way longer than I should have and began planning to move out when things went from weird to worse.

There were some bizarre things going on in that house.  It was hard enough having to share a kitchen and bathroom with these two, but when they brought home men it got even stranger. There was a very nice elderly man who lived next door with his quiet wife. He was friendly and would always say hello in the front of the house. One day he came in to spend time with one of my roommates and not long after, he was frequently staying over. I believe he was in his eighties and if I am not mistaken my roommate was under thirty. It is not my place to judge, but it was time for me to go. I gave my notice and my move out date was December first. The series of events that happened in that last month were so odd that I wrote a play to help me countdown the days. Performing and hearing people laugh about it, was imperative to me to be able to make it to move out day. The play was called "December 1st."

It took me another few apartments and another roommate situation to learn I really just wanted to live alone. I found a great bungalow and lived there for a few years until moving in with my now husband. I loved my apartment and was so happy to have my own space.When we decided to get married, we were looking for a date in November. We had our hearts set on a certain venue and the first available date that worked for all of us was December 1st. We took it and began planning our wedding. It wasn't until I made up save the date cards that I realized that the date was familiar. It made me happy to know how far I had come away from that period of time in my life. So much so that it took me so long to remember the date had any significance to me in the past.

Our wedding date arrived on a crisp cool day. We gathered with friends and family to share our commitment to love one another. We welcomed our daughter within the year and a few years following we had our son. Two years ago we celebrated our ten year anniversary by renewing our vows with our children. Our life is full and every year is a gift. We just celebrated our twelfth anniversary! This year has had many challenges which we handled with the kind of partnership I thought might not actually exist in real life, but I'm glad I was wrong. I got a good one and I am looking forward to many more years with him. Which is in some ways surprising because I swore off ever having another roommate and now I have three. He was worth taking another chance on, but I do wish he wouldn't leave his socks everywhere. Our daughter does it too, so it must be genetic.

Personal Day

Things have been busy lately. Between my kids schedules, new puppy and my husband being out of town for work, I have felt spread a bit thin. My husband finally came back this past week, but got stomach flu and was sick on the whole flight home. We set up a room to quarantine him at home and did our best to stay away. I began fantasizing about what a day or two alone would feel like. A vacation would do me good. One night at a hotel to read my book uninterrupted sounded lovely. I am pretty sure, before I could imagine how I would swing a solo day, I was interrupted by one of my children asking me for yet another snack. I let the idea go for the time being.

After a weekend of running around to birthday parties, tennis practice and puppy training. I was happy to sit and have dinner with friends one night. It was fun to catch up and I of course stayed too late. I started Sunday tired and decided to lay low. My husband was feeling well enough to come out with us for a bit so we got outside to enjoy the beautiful weather. For the first time in a few weeks I felt a sense of relaxation and normalcy.  It was welcomed.

We went back home to get ready for the week. We have been trying to have dinner early enough on Sundays that we can also have a bit of a weekly game night. Even if we only end up playing a few rounds of a card game, it would be fun to start that tradition. Of course, a new toy as well as a food coloring experiment were to blame for not giving us enough time for a game. My husband and kids settled for a quick wrestling match before settling down to read. It was about that time that I felt chills and needed to lie down.

My husband, who fortunately is in town and available more this week, is feeling well enough to be available for the kids. He made sure they got to bed, fed them breakfast this morning and got them to school. I now have the stomach flu. It is horrible, gross and exhausting. I am not in a hotel, and this is no vacation, but everyone is leaving me alone. My book is next to me and I plan to read some when I can lift my head again. Not quite what I was picturing, but at least it is quiet.

What Others Think

My sister in law does a mean impersonation of a monkey. It's loud, funny and is incredibly authentic. When my daughter was two or three, she was so entertained by it. Eventually she was imitating her Aunt and making some impressive monkey sounds herself. One night we were leaving a restaurant and our daughter started making her monkey sounds. We had her do it again so we could video to send to her Aunt. She did it once and then we asked her to do one more. She started and mid-monkey — she stopped, looked around and said "I don't want to do it again, because then the people on the street will say 'why is that little girl making monkey sounds.’ That was the first time we recognized her awareness to what others think of her.

When I was little, my mother, a pianist, had me do recitals with her. I had a pretty big voice for a little kid and I loved singing. We performed once for my grandmother's senior center and someone made me a gown to wear. I walked out onto the stage, my mother played the first few notes and I began to sing. As soon as I did, the audience began to laugh. I was only three, but I knew then that I did not like that they were laughing at me. My mother later explained that they laughed because I was so little, and that they were laughing because they were happy. I felt like unless I was making a joke, it didn't feel good to be laughed at.

We all want our children to be those confident kids who don't care what anyone thinks of them, but most kids really do care how others perceive them. I think my two kids care a bit more than they should sometimes. There are times that their concern with how they look or what their will friends say matters too much and can get in the way of them getting out the door in the morning. If something doesn't look or feel just right to my son, he gets really upset. He is more opinionated on fashion than I think a seven year old should be. Both kids are very particular about their clothes and shoes. It can feel impossible at times to find them clothes they will actually like and wear. Suddenly, I have a new found respect for schools with a uniform policy in place. If only I could buy my kids two outfits, and those were their only choices each day.

The seemingly impossible notion of balance keeps popping up. I am honestly not sure that balance is attainable, but I keep trying for it anyway. My goal as a parent is to acknowledge my kid's feelings when insecurities show up, while encouraging them to be who they are and own their choices. This has not yet been fully successful and my kids see through my plans most of the time, but never the less she persisted. I don't give up that easily. If I can get my daughter through her teens years with even a trace amount of self esteem left, we will have accomplished something major. I am hoping for more than just an ounce of confidence, but it's a jungle out there.

Wait For It...

Patience is not a skill that I have mastered. I have improved greatly since living in New York, but I still struggle to let things happen naturally. I hear "be the squeaky wheel" in my head and I can't help but react. It is not easy to know when to sit back, and when to take action. I am learning though where energy is wasted, and where it is helpful. I get irritated when I am standing in a long line at the grocery store, or when food takes a while at a restaurant. I get antsy sitting in traffic, or watching the spinning wheel on a computer screen. I know though that these situations are out of my control. The time is not going to magically reappear so acceptance is my best option.

Being patient is having the ability to remain calm when there is disruption, a disappointment, or distress. When patience is mastered it has a positive side. I've read that the more patient a person is the more sensitive and empathetic they are to those around them. That part makes total sense to me. If I am waiting behind someone who can't find their wallet and needs a few minutes to regroup, I can throw my hands up in irritation, or I can observe the situation and understand that the person in front of me is having a hard time. It could easily be me on a different day, so understanding that helps me take a deep breath and maybe even smile to show that person a little compassion.

Aside from the day-to-day minor irritations, patience is required when in conflict with others. When I am upset or arguing with someone, I still need to hear what they have to say. It can be challenging to resist the temptation to interrupt or to even walk out of the room. At some point or another, lack of patience when upset has occurred for all of us. A few years ago after snapping one too many times at my son, I researched keeping calm in trying times of parenting. I landed on some article that explained that when your child is upset, getting upset with them sends them into a whole other level of upset. To some degree, I agree with that. If my son is sad because someone was a jerk to him, I'll be responding with patience and understanding. If a child was a jerk to my son and then my son is a jerk back, I am going to get upset. This article was saying keep your cool no matter what. I didn't last very long following those instructions. When my buttons get pushed my patience runs thinner.

Of all the times that require patience in life, the most challenging for me is during life's hardships. During major changes, being in the middle of a project that I am struggling with, losing a loved one, are just some examples of when I feel most impatient. Sitting in an uncomfortable moment in time can make me impatient. I am learning, ever so slowly, that it is okay to be uncomfortable sometimes. My tendency is to want to get through the hard parts fast. I like to figure out the quickest way out of discomfort and the reality is sometimes life is sad, frustrating and unclear. My daughter was so unhappy the first few weeks of middle school with not knowing her way around. At some point we all get lost, and that is the way to learn your way back.

I am a little lost these days. Our family has had a few hardships and it is not the easiest time. We are getting through it together, but it may take us all longer than we want it to to feel a sense of normal. I am feeling more patient with myself than I have ever felt before. I see that it is possible to learn skills to be more patient and I am applying them whenever possible. I am also ok losing my patience once in a while. As long as I can find it again.

This Phase

A little over a year ago when my mother in law passed a way, I was in New York with the kids and my husband called to let me know. No matter how aware we were that this was coming, we were still unprepared for the actual moment we learned she was really gone. My kids were being entertained by cousins in another room, so I sat down to take in the news. As my husband and I cried we felt a depth of pain we had never felt before. I told him that I can't believe that we have to go through this three more times. This is the way life is supposed to go and if we are lucky our parents live a long life and then we have to say goodbye. It doesn't ease the pain though. Loss hurts!

Together with his sisters, my husband is about to go through this pain again. My father in law has Parkinson's and when his wife died he began to rapidly decline. Over the last year there have many close calls, where my husband would get in the car and drive down to San Diego thinking it would be his last chance to spend time with his dad. He has been able to be with him week after week for a few days each time. Some visits he has been lucid and talkative. Other visits he hasn't done much more than sleep. The last few weeks though, it has become obvious that the end is near. Once again, my husband and his sisters surround the bed of their dying parent. I am not positive this time they will all be together for his final breath the way they were when their mom passed, but they have been able to be together for so much of this and that is a gift.

Each drive back to LA from San Diego is like a wave breaking at the shore -- it pulls a piece of my husband back with it. He comes home exhausted and emotionally spent. The time he spends with his siblings in the house they grew up in awakens more memories each time he is there. When he leaves and sees people outside in the world going about their day it becomes clearer that this amount of sadness he is living with is heavy. It reminds me of that drive we took to the hospital when I was in active labor. I saw people having coffee outside and didn't understand how they could just be so relaxed and normal, while I was literally exploding. In times of great sadness it is difficult to walk around while your heart and head are screaming and just pretend to be okay like everyone else.

My friend's sister is about to have a baby and she is past her due date. When I called my friend a few days ago to ask if there was any news, she said no and that she was on baby watch. I put down the phone and thought about the similarities and the differences we are both feeling while we wait. One of us for death and one of us for new life.  When the real call actually comes in the reactions will hardly have any resemblance though. No matter how prepared we are to hear that someone we love is gone, it is still a kick to the gut. The finality, the goodbye, the knowledge that you will not lock eyes or arms with that person again is shocking. My father in law was the definition of a gentleman. He was smart, caring and loving. He was a successful engineer and a dedicated family man. We bonded over chocolate and all things Italian. I always learned something new from him. He always made me feel a welcome part of the family and I loved him. The world loses a good man when he goes, and he will be missed.

Hazel

Juliette Binoche says to Daniel Day Lewis, "We should get a puppy, it will make us happy" in "The Unbearable Lightness Of Being." My husband and I saw the movie together when we first met fifteen years ago, and we quote that line often. We joked about it all the time, but we never got a puppy. That is, until this past weekend.

My husband and his family have been having a hard time recently. There has been so much loss, illness and sadness. It has been a dark time so when my daughter and he called me from a pet shelter to tell me they found "our" puppy. I didn't say no right away. We knew we would always get a dog at some point, but we thought maybe in the next year or so when things settled in with middle school. We were planning on taking a few months to travel this spring and considered getting a dog upon our return. I wasn't quite expecting this call because my husband doesn't normally call and say he would like to add a new family member, and also because we have had so much on our plates. I trust him though and if he says this is the dog we were waiting for, then bring her on home.

I have never had a puppy before, and I have heard it is hard. I have heard it is like having a baby all over again. Sleepless nights, accidents all over the house, furniture damage, and a constant need for supervision. My husband keeps reminding me that it is all worth it, but we have only had this dog two nights and I have already cleaned up so many messes and done so much laundry. I had a mini meltdown last night and I am a bit terrified about what we just got ourselves into. Having a puppy is also expensive -- between the gear, the adoption costs, the food and if I do it, the puppy training class.

This puppy has grabbed hold of our hearts already though. We are in it now, so I need to figure out how to make it work. Our children are in love and hearing them giggle with this sprite little prancer is a wonderful thing. I am the slowest in this house to embrace this addition. I wasn't quite ready and I am definitely not prepared.We have spent the weekend trying to find a fitting name. We are all smitten by her green eyes, so for now we have landed on Hazel. I have a lot to learn about having a puppy, but what I was least prepared for was while I held her yesterday, I kissed her head and said "I love you." That was fast!