For all of you who had cozy holidays with no family conflict, skip this blog post. For those of you who have utter confidence in your parenting, you can skip it too. For those of you who came home to your own beds, own kitchens and own schedules and said, "Thank God"...welcome to my world.
Beloved Child and I went to visit our family on the West Coast during the holidays. We are the only members of our kin to live in the East. Seldom, if ever, does West come East, so we travel to see them. Last year we skipped due to family angst and poor communication. It was ugly to say the least and going this year was done with trepidation and low expectations (high expectations are just a recipe for disappointment). We brought our bags and baggage, hesitations and hopes, and a firm grip on each other. Beloved Child and I had each others backs.
Within 24 hours I had managed to disappoint my mother and have her unhappiness pouring upon my head. Within 5 days doors were slamming, tears were flowing and bags were near to being packed. Christmas had not even arrived yet. Beloved Child was trying to be "Switzerland" and stay out of the fray. Unfortunately her teenage interest in her phone/computer/ipod were part of the problem in my mother's eyes. The hardest thing is that my mother does not say "Please be available at these times to do "X"." Or, "I would like to have dinner with you most nights while you are here." It all gets saved up and then dumped into "Your friends are more important than I am and I don't know why you even come here in the first place!" I hear echos of my mother making these accusations to my teenage self, and it does not feel any different now.
I don't want to turn into my mother and end up screaming at Beloved Child during holiday visits. I don't want to have my expectations become her problem during the times we are together. I want her to want to visit me, hang out with me, share her life as she is able and willing to, with me. I am terrified that I will morph into my mother's behavior and Beloved Child will have the same dread of holidays that I do. I hate feeling this way. I do disappoint my mother. My child will occasionally make me tear my hair, even when we are both adults. I am imperfect and do stupid things. I will not scream at my child. I am thankful to be home. We need a new model of holidays and family visits. We need to make our communication better than the communication of my mother and myself. I am hopeful and I am terrified. I am sad and I am relieved to be home. Beloved Child has my back. I have hers. I am thankful.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Sunday, December 16, 2012
11 a.m. 12-16-12
I wish praying was enough. I wish praying was enough when parents have lost their first graders to gun violence, when moms can't get mental health services for their kids, when our own kids ask "why?".
I wish my prayers gave comfort to a dad this morning who is trying to explain to his 3 and 4 year old daughters why their big sister died.
I wish there were enough candles to light up the homes that are swamped with a darkness that is internal and feels eternal.
Everywhere I look this morning, Facebook, the newspaper, emails, people are asking "why", are raging against the unfair and the unthinkable. Everyone is wondering, "what will make a change?".
I send you my prayers. I light a candle for you. I hug my own child tightly, more tightly than she would prefer. I thank God for sparing my child from disaster. I will try harder to be the change that we all want to see in the world.
I wish my prayers gave comfort to a dad this morning who is trying to explain to his 3 and 4 year old daughters why their big sister died.
I wish there were enough candles to light up the homes that are swamped with a darkness that is internal and feels eternal.
Everywhere I look this morning, Facebook, the newspaper, emails, people are asking "why", are raging against the unfair and the unthinkable. Everyone is wondering, "what will make a change?".
I send you my prayers. I light a candle for you. I hug my own child tightly, more tightly than she would prefer. I thank God for sparing my child from disaster. I will try harder to be the change that we all want to see in the world.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Beit Shalom - House of Peace
There is a fire in the wood stove. Beloved child is making her own supper. I have warm tea in my mug and classical music on the computer. Peace at home.
I volunteered on the Polar Express today. Six hours of serving hot chocolate and cookies and singing Christmas songs with train loads (4 separate trips) of families with small children. Most every family comes ready to be a part of the magic. They come in their pajamas or holiday sweaters (you have to wear them somewhere I guess). We volunteers greet them upon arrival, settle them in their seats, facilitate the taking of family photos and then serve drinks and treats, all the while smiling, trying to talk over the recorded Polar Express soundtrack and being unceasingly cheerful. It is a LOT of fun! It is also a lot of work. Some children are shy and don't readily interact with strangers. Some children are ready to jump into my arms and dance in the aisles. By 4 p.m. my throat was sore from singing/yelling and my ears were tired of the musical assault caused by enthusiastic people who cannot carry a tune. All said, it was a good day and I am happy to be home.
I came home to the beloved child cleaning her room. She has her laundry done, homework almost done and is in a fabulous and relaxed mood. No one needs anything from me tonight. I can sit in the chair with my book (Flight Behavior by Barbara Kingsolver) and not move, if I so choose.
Tonight I am living in the House of Peace. I'm feeling thankful.
I volunteered on the Polar Express today. Six hours of serving hot chocolate and cookies and singing Christmas songs with train loads (4 separate trips) of families with small children. Most every family comes ready to be a part of the magic. They come in their pajamas or holiday sweaters (you have to wear them somewhere I guess). We volunteers greet them upon arrival, settle them in their seats, facilitate the taking of family photos and then serve drinks and treats, all the while smiling, trying to talk over the recorded Polar Express soundtrack and being unceasingly cheerful. It is a LOT of fun! It is also a lot of work. Some children are shy and don't readily interact with strangers. Some children are ready to jump into my arms and dance in the aisles. By 4 p.m. my throat was sore from singing/yelling and my ears were tired of the musical assault caused by enthusiastic people who cannot carry a tune. All said, it was a good day and I am happy to be home.
I came home to the beloved child cleaning her room. She has her laundry done, homework almost done and is in a fabulous and relaxed mood. No one needs anything from me tonight. I can sit in the chair with my book (Flight Behavior by Barbara Kingsolver) and not move, if I so choose.
Tonight I am living in the House of Peace. I'm feeling thankful.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
A Little Confession
I just read on Tracey's blog "Linguine or Lo Mein" that they are adopting baby number two from China. It is a wonderful thing and I am happy for them. Although I don't know them, I read about their family and their little girl Emmie and wish for them only the best in this newest adventure.
As I celebrate all of you who are just starting out as new or growing families and send messages of support and encouragement to those of you who are finding the challenges of tiny little people to be exhausting as well as a joy, I also have a bit of kid envy and sadness. Even if I wanted to start over again (and some days I really do), the Chinese government would not allow me to bring home another daughter (or son) from China. I'm not too old (just barely), don't have a disability or disorder that would bump me off the list, I have enough resources to care for another child, but China made a rule that bumps me into the "never" category and this "never" is something that I can't change.
China doesn't allow gays and lesbians to adopt. Early on, when I adopted almost 18 years ago, the Chinese didn't have this rule because I doubt it occurred to them that gays and lesbians would want to adopt or that they would ever apply to create families through adoption. Single women, both heterosexual and lesbian, joyfully adopted in large numbers from China in the early and late '90's. China was a terrific option for building my family and I brought home beloved child with great joy in 1995.
Being gay is such a small part of who I am. I am a mama, a social worker, a (now) spouse, a childcare provider, a volunteer and so much more. I created a home for us, work to make a living and do the things that most other people do in their day to day lives. We live in a small town. I know 10 people in the grocery almost every time I go to shop. When I got married a few years ago, my community welcomed my new spouse without hesitation. But, I cannot adopt again. Not from China, not ever again.
My happiness for all of you who have new children, who have older children, who are reading because you want children, will never cease. Today though, as I send happy and warm thoughts to Tracey and Patrick, I am a little sad. Today, I wish I could have adopted again too.
As I celebrate all of you who are just starting out as new or growing families and send messages of support and encouragement to those of you who are finding the challenges of tiny little people to be exhausting as well as a joy, I also have a bit of kid envy and sadness. Even if I wanted to start over again (and some days I really do), the Chinese government would not allow me to bring home another daughter (or son) from China. I'm not too old (just barely), don't have a disability or disorder that would bump me off the list, I have enough resources to care for another child, but China made a rule that bumps me into the "never" category and this "never" is something that I can't change.
China doesn't allow gays and lesbians to adopt. Early on, when I adopted almost 18 years ago, the Chinese didn't have this rule because I doubt it occurred to them that gays and lesbians would want to adopt or that they would ever apply to create families through adoption. Single women, both heterosexual and lesbian, joyfully adopted in large numbers from China in the early and late '90's. China was a terrific option for building my family and I brought home beloved child with great joy in 1995.
Being gay is such a small part of who I am. I am a mama, a social worker, a (now) spouse, a childcare provider, a volunteer and so much more. I created a home for us, work to make a living and do the things that most other people do in their day to day lives. We live in a small town. I know 10 people in the grocery almost every time I go to shop. When I got married a few years ago, my community welcomed my new spouse without hesitation. But, I cannot adopt again. Not from China, not ever again.
My happiness for all of you who have new children, who have older children, who are reading because you want children, will never cease. Today though, as I send happy and warm thoughts to Tracey and Patrick, I am a little sad. Today, I wish I could have adopted again too.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Sunday Morning
It is a grey and peaceful Sunday morning. There is a little snow on the ground, but it will be gone by this afternoon if the predictions are correct and the temperature rises into the 50's. The dog is snoring on her pillow and the fire is burning in the stove. It is quiet here.
I had NPR on until a moment ago. I was trying to read, listen to Weekend Edition Sunday and appreciate the aloneness when I realized that I really am a terrible multi-tasker. In our current culture, multi-tasking is the norm. Work, text, parent, e-shop, cook all at the same time is revered, encouraged and even promoted. Books are written about how to be more efficient in doing multiple activities. Women's magazines are constantly telling me that being able to lose weight, work full-time and make artistic holiday cookies can be done. And yet, as I sit here, quietly, I realize that I will never be good at it and in truth, I don't want to be.
If you have read any of the previous blogs you know that the beloved child is getting ready to fly from the nest. She is longing for adventure, freedom and all that becoming an adult on her own will offer her. I watch her grow and I find myself becoming more focused on one thing at a time. I want to be here WITH her when she is here. I want to hear her words. I want to make grilled cheese and watch her eat. These precious minutes are going too quickly.
Multi-tasking is just not on my agenda. As we enter the full chaos of the holiday season, I am more aware than ever that I don't want to shop 'til I drop, worry about who is getting what and when and stressing about getting the cards done "on time". I want to hang out with beloved child. I want to have peaceful mornings. I will make soup, read a book, write letters to friends, each thing in its own time.
I feel the anxiety that this declaration brings, down inside my chest somewhere, but I can push it away, for now. This moment I want to appreciate the grey morning, listen to the dog snore and breathe slowly.
I had NPR on until a moment ago. I was trying to read, listen to Weekend Edition Sunday and appreciate the aloneness when I realized that I really am a terrible multi-tasker. In our current culture, multi-tasking is the norm. Work, text, parent, e-shop, cook all at the same time is revered, encouraged and even promoted. Books are written about how to be more efficient in doing multiple activities. Women's magazines are constantly telling me that being able to lose weight, work full-time and make artistic holiday cookies can be done. And yet, as I sit here, quietly, I realize that I will never be good at it and in truth, I don't want to be.
If you have read any of the previous blogs you know that the beloved child is getting ready to fly from the nest. She is longing for adventure, freedom and all that becoming an adult on her own will offer her. I watch her grow and I find myself becoming more focused on one thing at a time. I want to be here WITH her when she is here. I want to hear her words. I want to make grilled cheese and watch her eat. These precious minutes are going too quickly.
Multi-tasking is just not on my agenda. As we enter the full chaos of the holiday season, I am more aware than ever that I don't want to shop 'til I drop, worry about who is getting what and when and stressing about getting the cards done "on time". I want to hang out with beloved child. I want to have peaceful mornings. I will make soup, read a book, write letters to friends, each thing in its own time.
I feel the anxiety that this declaration brings, down inside my chest somewhere, but I can push it away, for now. This moment I want to appreciate the grey morning, listen to the dog snore and breathe slowly.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Perfect Blue Sky Thanksgiving
Growing up in Northern California, I was used to going to the beach on Thanksgiving Day. It might not have been warm, but most often it was sunny and comfortable with a sweatshirt or vest. 20+ years in New Hampshire have most often brought freezing temperatures, rain, snow, grey skies or a combination thereof. Today, 2012, it is a perfect blue sky day.
Beloved daughter woke up and said, "Do you want to go for a walk with me this morning?" How can you say no to that? We walked, in the sunshine, laughing together. No one can be silly like my girl when she is in the mood. No one can make me laugh like she does. Nothing, nothing can make me happier than her WANTING to walk with me on a beautiful day.
Things to be thankful for: smart, happy, healthy, often sarcastic, funny, generous child.
Kind, loving spouse. Friends all over the country and world who try and stay in touch in one form of media or another (handwritten letters can make my day!). I am thankful that we have enough food, shelter, healthcare, educational opportunities and that we have enough to share. Thankful for our family, even if they make us crazy on occasion. They are still there throughout the years.
I am thankful for the people who allow me to care for their children. Having little kids in my life is an ongoing gift. William, Cooper, Ryan, Vivian for whom I babysit. Jack, Annie, Aiden and Eliza and all of the kids at the elementary school with whom I have read over the years, we have had so much fun together and watching you grow and learn to read is the BEST. I am also thankful for the elderly people who populate my life through Meals on Wheels and the nursing home where I work. Your grace and courage are inspiring.
The moms whose blogs I read, the Facebook friends who share portions of their lives...thank you all of adding to my days with your stories and for reaching out into the "virtual world".
I was not going to write a Thanksgiving blog, but reading the things that others had posted today, it seemed like an opportunity to say "Thank you". So, to you who may read this note. Thank you for being a part of my life.
Beloved daughter woke up and said, "Do you want to go for a walk with me this morning?" How can you say no to that? We walked, in the sunshine, laughing together. No one can be silly like my girl when she is in the mood. No one can make me laugh like she does. Nothing, nothing can make me happier than her WANTING to walk with me on a beautiful day.
Things to be thankful for: smart, happy, healthy, often sarcastic, funny, generous child.
Kind, loving spouse. Friends all over the country and world who try and stay in touch in one form of media or another (handwritten letters can make my day!). I am thankful that we have enough food, shelter, healthcare, educational opportunities and that we have enough to share. Thankful for our family, even if they make us crazy on occasion. They are still there throughout the years.
I am thankful for the people who allow me to care for their children. Having little kids in my life is an ongoing gift. William, Cooper, Ryan, Vivian for whom I babysit. Jack, Annie, Aiden and Eliza and all of the kids at the elementary school with whom I have read over the years, we have had so much fun together and watching you grow and learn to read is the BEST. I am also thankful for the elderly people who populate my life through Meals on Wheels and the nursing home where I work. Your grace and courage are inspiring.
The moms whose blogs I read, the Facebook friends who share portions of their lives...thank you all of adding to my days with your stories and for reaching out into the "virtual world".
I was not going to write a Thanksgiving blog, but reading the things that others had posted today, it seemed like an opportunity to say "Thank you". So, to you who may read this note. Thank you for being a part of my life.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
To make you laugh
I wrote this note to a new friend who is going through struggles with her child and I hoped it would make her laugh.
C -
In your current state of exhaustion I thought, maybe you need to laugh a little.
Last week my spouse got the dog she has been wanting for a long, long time. I caved in and said, "go ahead. get a dog." I have been the hold out for a long time. I know who the one who is home most of is - ME! I know who cares about fur on the furniture. ME! But, last Sunday the dog "Pip" arrived from a foster home and previous to that a kill shelter somewhere in the South.
So, today, in between my morning job (running Meals on Wheels) and my afternoon job (nursing home social work one day a week, the other afternoon job is childcare) I was home to see my beloved daughter (home from Spain and school doesn't start until after Thanksgiving) and to see how the dog is faring, as overnight she developed a cough that sounds like she is going to puke. I hook the dog to the leash and take her out for a quicky walk. And, at the intersection of our road with the next, she sits down. Actually she stands with her legs braced, as in "I am not moving and you can't make me". And I stand there, like an idiot, talking to her like one talks with a toddler/pre-schooler. "I would really appreciate it if you would come walk with me right now." ( I am doing this in my best, rational mommy voice). "Come on, Pip, I am cold and want to go home and have lunch." Pip is unmoved by my words. (more strongly) "Pip, COME". She doesn't move. I kneel and look her in the eye, "What's wrong? Are you scared?" Neighbors are driving by wondering why I am standing in the road with a dog statue. I am tugging the harness..."Come ON you silly dog!" (no movement, just a visible tightening of muscles) I pick her up and carry her (40 pound dog in my arms). I get her to our yard and say "Let's go in the house now" and she looks at me like "You think I am moving for you?" I end up carrying her into the house. INTO THE HOUSE!
I have always believed that having a dog was like having a toddler that never grows up and she is proving me to be correct. The only thing I did not do was take away privileges and offer cookies (I did not have any but I suggested to her that she could have a cookie when we got home). People have told me for years to get a dog and I always said "I want a baby , not a dog". Babies eventually grow up - dogs are perpetual toddlers. And you know what? I was right.
C -
In your current state of exhaustion I thought, maybe you need to laugh a little.
Last week my spouse got the dog she has been wanting for a long, long time. I caved in and said, "go ahead. get a dog." I have been the hold out for a long time. I know who the one who is home most of is - ME! I know who cares about fur on the furniture. ME! But, last Sunday the dog "Pip" arrived from a foster home and previous to that a kill shelter somewhere in the South.
So, today, in between my morning job (running Meals on Wheels) and my afternoon job (nursing home social work one day a week, the other afternoon job is childcare) I was home to see my beloved daughter (home from Spain and school doesn't start until after Thanksgiving) and to see how the dog is faring, as overnight she developed a cough that sounds like she is going to puke. I hook the dog to the leash and take her out for a quicky walk. And, at the intersection of our road with the next, she sits down. Actually she stands with her legs braced, as in "I am not moving and you can't make me". And I stand there, like an idiot, talking to her like one talks with a toddler/pre-schooler. "I would really appreciate it if you would come walk with me right now." ( I am doing this in my best, rational mommy voice). "Come on, Pip, I am cold and want to go home and have lunch." Pip is unmoved by my words. (more strongly) "Pip, COME". She doesn't move. I kneel and look her in the eye, "What's wrong? Are you scared?" Neighbors are driving by wondering why I am standing in the road with a dog statue. I am tugging the harness..."Come ON you silly dog!" (no movement, just a visible tightening of muscles) I pick her up and carry her (40 pound dog in my arms). I get her to our yard and say "Let's go in the house now" and she looks at me like "You think I am moving for you?" I end up carrying her into the house. INTO THE HOUSE!
I have always believed that having a dog was like having a toddler that never grows up and she is proving me to be correct. The only thing I did not do was take away privileges and offer cookies (I did not have any but I suggested to her that she could have a cookie when we got home). People have told me for years to get a dog and I always said "I want a baby , not a dog". Babies eventually grow up - dogs are perpetual toddlers. And you know what? I was right.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
She's Baaack!
First, because sometimes I just have to start with the news, I am stunned that people are HOARDING Twinkies due to the news that Hostess is closing its doors. Hoarding and Twinkies written in the same sentence just seems wrong somehow. I ate them as a child (most people over age 20 did, I guess) and once (just once, I promise) I bought a package and offered one to my daughter, just so she could see what a Twinkie was and say she had eaten one. I do not think she finished it and she thought it was utterly disgusting. I am sorry that 18,000 people are losing their jobs in the industry, but losing Twinkies (and related food items) doesn't strike me a a tragedy. The loss of jobs is devastating to those families and communities however and they have my sympathy.
The beloved child has returned from her sojourn in Spain. She had a fabulous time, loved her host family, loved Segovia and the country in general, loved tapas, and is now wondering how she can get back to Spain in the least amount of time. Coming home to a small New England town is hard, and our town does not have a lot to offer to teens and young adults. It is a great place to raise children, absolutely wonderful, but not a spectacular place to be 18 and spreading one's wings. So, beloved child says " I can't wait to go back to Spain." and my heart breaks a little bit. I understand, I sympathize, I admire her desire to travel and explore and be independent, and yet, I want her to want to be home, at least for a few days. Please?
And then, the homecoming....stuff everywhere, hair in the tub, computer on the table, dishes...on the mantel, in her room, and detritus spread everywhere letting me know she's baaaack. Already have had the discussion that "I'll get to it later" is not acceptable. World traveler or not, some things don't change.
She's home. I can see her and hear her again. She is slowly telling tales of her adventures and forming plans that will be her life away from home, soon. I am willing to make her grilled cheese and tomato soup at 10 p.m. because she won't be here very much longer to ask me to do it. Every moment from here on I am aware that she is leaving soon. I want to spoil her a little because my window of opportunity is drawing to a close.
Parenting a child who is ready to fly is not for the faint of heart.
The beloved child has returned from her sojourn in Spain. She had a fabulous time, loved her host family, loved Segovia and the country in general, loved tapas, and is now wondering how she can get back to Spain in the least amount of time. Coming home to a small New England town is hard, and our town does not have a lot to offer to teens and young adults. It is a great place to raise children, absolutely wonderful, but not a spectacular place to be 18 and spreading one's wings. So, beloved child says " I can't wait to go back to Spain." and my heart breaks a little bit. I understand, I sympathize, I admire her desire to travel and explore and be independent, and yet, I want her to want to be home, at least for a few days. Please?
And then, the homecoming....stuff everywhere, hair in the tub, computer on the table, dishes...on the mantel, in her room, and detritus spread everywhere letting me know she's baaaack. Already have had the discussion that "I'll get to it later" is not acceptable. World traveler or not, some things don't change.
She's home. I can see her and hear her again. She is slowly telling tales of her adventures and forming plans that will be her life away from home, soon. I am willing to make her grilled cheese and tomato soup at 10 p.m. because she won't be here very much longer to ask me to do it. Every moment from here on I am aware that she is leaving soon. I want to spoil her a little because my window of opportunity is drawing to a close.
Parenting a child who is ready to fly is not for the faint of heart.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Gran'pa Paul
I was thinking about my dad today, telling someone at work that dad was entirely predictable about some things and bought the same 15 groceries at the store every week. Then I stopped, thought about the date and went "Oh. Right. 18 years. Tomorrow." Memories always seem to come more strongly at an anniversary time.
Eighteen years ago my dad died, 11 months after he retired. He had saved a lot of things to do in life for when retirement came. Unfortunately, cancer came first and screwed up his plans. My dad was a funny guy. He liked jazz music, V-8 juice, meatloaf and bake sales. He was a recycler before recycling was cool, and he took public transportation to work whenever possible. He saved the same brown paper lunch bag to use over and over again until it was like fabric. My dad loved pie, cars and his kids. My dad never met his grandchildren.
And yet, his legacy lives on in each of them. I have been able to BE a mom because of my dad's generosity. I was able to adopt from China. I have had choices about staying home and working part time because my dad was a frugal guy and saved money. He thought getting a good deal was entertainment. A $5. Pendelton sports coat at the church rummage sale gave him a total thrill! He loved finding raisin danish on the day old rack at the grocery. Coupons and the dented can outlet in San Francisco were there just to challenge him. Being thrifty was a part of who he was and he reveled in it.
Days can go by without my really thinking of my dad and then something small will hit me and I think, "Dad would have liked that". He would have loved my girl and her desire to travel. He would have bonded with her over music and meatloaf. He would have happily taught her to check the oil in the car and how to change a tire. He would have gone to recitals and races and written her letters at camp.
On this, the anniversary of his death, I am grateful for the time we had together. I hope he sees this amazing girl I am raising and thinks to himself, "Yeah, I did a good thing there." Thanks, Dad. I love you.
Eighteen years ago my dad died, 11 months after he retired. He had saved a lot of things to do in life for when retirement came. Unfortunately, cancer came first and screwed up his plans. My dad was a funny guy. He liked jazz music, V-8 juice, meatloaf and bake sales. He was a recycler before recycling was cool, and he took public transportation to work whenever possible. He saved the same brown paper lunch bag to use over and over again until it was like fabric. My dad loved pie, cars and his kids. My dad never met his grandchildren.
And yet, his legacy lives on in each of them. I have been able to BE a mom because of my dad's generosity. I was able to adopt from China. I have had choices about staying home and working part time because my dad was a frugal guy and saved money. He thought getting a good deal was entertainment. A $5. Pendelton sports coat at the church rummage sale gave him a total thrill! He loved finding raisin danish on the day old rack at the grocery. Coupons and the dented can outlet in San Francisco were there just to challenge him. Being thrifty was a part of who he was and he reveled in it.
Days can go by without my really thinking of my dad and then something small will hit me and I think, "Dad would have liked that". He would have loved my girl and her desire to travel. He would have bonded with her over music and meatloaf. He would have happily taught her to check the oil in the car and how to change a tire. He would have gone to recitals and races and written her letters at camp.
On this, the anniversary of his death, I am grateful for the time we had together. I hope he sees this amazing girl I am raising and thinks to himself, "Yeah, I did a good thing there." Thanks, Dad. I love you.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Hurricane Winds and a Warm Fire
Today some of you may be at home with your kids,waiting out the predicted and soon to arrive east coast hurricane. It is windy and grey and wet here, the wind is blowing, but it is only beginning to rise, I guess. Before too long it will be howling. As long as the roof stays on and the trees stay in the yard (roots DOWN), I will be happy.
I have the fire burning in the woodstove, tea in a mug and I am contemplating re-reading Harry Potter, because a stormy day is a great day to read fantasy stories. Mostly though, I am thinking of my girl. I used to love days off from school when she was small. We would play all day, make fun things to eat and read, read, read. We would get out Jenga, Monopoly and Mancala, start a puzzle, and relax.
Being safe together, at home is such a happy, magical time.
If you are home today, I am wishing you a day of giggles and pancakes for dinner, stories and a hug.
I have the fire burning in the woodstove, tea in a mug and I am contemplating re-reading Harry Potter, because a stormy day is a great day to read fantasy stories. Mostly though, I am thinking of my girl. I used to love days off from school when she was small. We would play all day, make fun things to eat and read, read, read. We would get out Jenga, Monopoly and Mancala, start a puzzle, and relax.
Being safe together, at home is such a happy, magical time.
If you are home today, I am wishing you a day of giggles and pancakes for dinner, stories and a hug.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
A Mother's Heart
I need to talk to you soon.
These are the words that strike terror into a mother's heart. Are you sick? Are you pregnant? Are you arrested? The mind shoots into problem solving for a tragedy mode.
I received a Facebook message from my daughter last night with those 7 words. No details. No explanation or other information. I immediately wrote back and outlined my schedule for today including that she could call me in the night, wake me at 5 a.m., that I would come home early from work to talk with her by phone or Skype (remember, she is in Spain).
Needless to say, I slept poorly, wondering what was going on 3500 miles away. Was I going to need to fly to Spain today? Was she coming home early? (I can hear her exasperated sigh now) When I got up and checked my email this morning, she said, "I just had a scheduling problem." Really? A scheduling problem? For school? Next term that doesn't start until after Thanksgiving? Thanks a lot.
Why doesn't she know that those words "I need to talk with you soon" are reserved for crises? I shudder when I hear those words from my own parent, or my boss or anyone else who has power in my life. They are words that are to me, harbingers of doom.
So, her scheduling problem has been resolved. I am not flying to Spain. My heart stopped pounding. Someday when she has a child, she will understand.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
The word "Kind" is underrated.
I grew up hearing regularly "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all".
Okay, so I have not always said nice things in my life. I have gossiped. I have said petty and unkind things. But, key to this is, I have not said them on national television or in the newspaper or on Facebook.
How am I supposed to encourage my child to be thoughtful, kind, considerate, generous and open-minded if what is available in popular media is all about ugly, unkind and petty? I cannot even bring myself to watch or listen to the debates during this election season because I can't watch the arguing and verbal battling. I can't help but be pessimistic about the future not of our government, but of our culture. I am sad, frightened and appalled. If the belief is that the best looking and the one with the best one liners wins, then who is going to be left? Is patience, tolerance and acceptance really not a part of foreign policy?
This blog is not really about my kid, but as she is old enough to vote this year*, I am wondering how she is supposed to understand and value the system in which we find ourselves. Kind. I think kind is highly underrated.
I know it is naive, goodness knows that my mother, who was the one who told me "If you can't say something nice..." has said that in hindsight that is not how the world works. So, how do we, you and I introduce the little darlings to the world at large and make "kind" count?
*As she is out of the country,she will not be voting. Considering that she was planning on voting to cancel my vote just because she could, I am not sad that she is missing this opportunity. Her decision would have nothing to do with her actual beliefs, but because she thought that it would be "funny". Needless to say, I did not mention voting absentee.
Okay, so I have not always said nice things in my life. I have gossiped. I have said petty and unkind things. But, key to this is, I have not said them on national television or in the newspaper or on Facebook.
How am I supposed to encourage my child to be thoughtful, kind, considerate, generous and open-minded if what is available in popular media is all about ugly, unkind and petty? I cannot even bring myself to watch or listen to the debates during this election season because I can't watch the arguing and verbal battling. I can't help but be pessimistic about the future not of our government, but of our culture. I am sad, frightened and appalled. If the belief is that the best looking and the one with the best one liners wins, then who is going to be left? Is patience, tolerance and acceptance really not a part of foreign policy?
This blog is not really about my kid, but as she is old enough to vote this year*, I am wondering how she is supposed to understand and value the system in which we find ourselves. Kind. I think kind is highly underrated.
I know it is naive, goodness knows that my mother, who was the one who told me "If you can't say something nice..." has said that in hindsight that is not how the world works. So, how do we, you and I introduce the little darlings to the world at large and make "kind" count?
*As she is out of the country,she will not be voting. Considering that she was planning on voting to cancel my vote just because she could, I am not sad that she is missing this opportunity. Her decision would have nothing to do with her actual beliefs, but because she thought that it would be "funny". Needless to say, I did not mention voting absentee.
Monday, October 15, 2012
The Money Tree
Money doesn't grow on trees?
I skyped with the child last night. (Hurrah) She is in Spain for a term with 8 classmates. As well as classes in Spanish, literature, history and culture, she has art with a local artisan, guitar lessons, athletic opportunities and extensive travel with the group. She showed me the sunglasses she bought for 148 euros. She showed me the jeans she bought that were "cheap". She has told me about the cafe con leche and the tortillas espanola that she has been eating at the local shop.
And...she wants to stay longer (Please? It won't cost that much more.). She wants me to come visit (I wish I could, and that she WANTS me to means everything to me). She wants us to go back and visit her host family next summer after graduation. She also wants to buy a car when she returns to the states (with what I don't know).
I have spent her entire life talking with her about "needs" and "wants". She knows that my being a social worker/childcare provider and semi-at-home mom means that I do not have as much money as some of the other kids' parents. We have had tears, compromises and most recently, a summer job. Still, compared to many, she has a pretty privileged life. And yet, the "wants" are mounting as graduation approaches. Considering that colleges and universities are in the 30-50,000. dollar range, the "needs" and"wants" are only going to show up more and more.
How to be enthusiastic and encouraging AND realistic is a challenge for me. I feel like I am the killjoy, the voice of doom, the "bad news mama" when I say, "Wow, we can't afford that...." again. Most of the time, she gets it and we don't have to battle every dime. She shops consignment and looks for coupons. She is frugal as can be with her own money. The "Bank of Mom" however is another story.
I hate worrying about, thinking about, talking about money. There is no fun in it for me. That she and I have made it this far is encouraging to me. She has a debit card and knows what happens if she overdraws (the lovely woman at the bank made this abundantly clear to her.)
Still, along with wings for the girl, a money tree would be nice. Don't you think?
I skyped with the child last night. (Hurrah) She is in Spain for a term with 8 classmates. As well as classes in Spanish, literature, history and culture, she has art with a local artisan, guitar lessons, athletic opportunities and extensive travel with the group. She showed me the sunglasses she bought for 148 euros. She showed me the jeans she bought that were "cheap". She has told me about the cafe con leche and the tortillas espanola that she has been eating at the local shop.
And...she wants to stay longer (Please? It won't cost that much more.). She wants me to come visit (I wish I could, and that she WANTS me to means everything to me). She wants us to go back and visit her host family next summer after graduation. She also wants to buy a car when she returns to the states (with what I don't know).
I have spent her entire life talking with her about "needs" and "wants". She knows that my being a social worker/childcare provider and semi-at-home mom means that I do not have as much money as some of the other kids' parents. We have had tears, compromises and most recently, a summer job. Still, compared to many, she has a pretty privileged life. And yet, the "wants" are mounting as graduation approaches. Considering that colleges and universities are in the 30-50,000. dollar range, the "needs" and"wants" are only going to show up more and more.
How to be enthusiastic and encouraging AND realistic is a challenge for me. I feel like I am the killjoy, the voice of doom, the "bad news mama" when I say, "Wow, we can't afford that...." again. Most of the time, she gets it and we don't have to battle every dime. She shops consignment and looks for coupons. She is frugal as can be with her own money. The "Bank of Mom" however is another story.
I hate worrying about, thinking about, talking about money. There is no fun in it for me. That she and I have made it this far is encouraging to me. She has a debit card and knows what happens if she overdraws (the lovely woman at the bank made this abundantly clear to her.)
Still, along with wings for the girl, a money tree would be nice. Don't you think?
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Beginnings
A new friend said, "Why don't you write a blog?". My initial thought was that I wouldn't think anyone would read about my babble. And then again, why not?
I have been reading adoption blogs recently. I think the reasons are many, but the biggest one is that my "baby" is getting ready to leave for college and I am feeling a mix of emotions. It is time. I would not do anything to hold her back from this next adventure in life. I am thrilled for her and a little sad for me. College. 17 years ago I brought her home from China as a ten month old baby. It was the two of us in the world. Mama and daughter. Two girls in the tub, in the house, in the world.
And now, she is off.
When she was a little girl, wings were a part of every outfit. She has a pair of white wings that were worn with pajamas, dresses, leggings and just plain underpants. My girl could FLY! We read stories about fairies (and later about broomsticks and Quidditch), we had a resident fairy leaving mysterious notes to be found throughout the house. Wings were essential wear to the grocery, for a walk through town and on the playground.
Now her wings are spread, if not visibly, at least psychologically. College applications from all over the country are spread on her bed. She is in Spain for a term. Last summer she worked away from home. Last Fall she sailed to the Caribbean for 10 weeks. All in preparation for leaving home. She is standing on the edge of adult life with her wings outspread. Yes, she is wearing wings, again.
I have been reading adoption blogs recently. I think the reasons are many, but the biggest one is that my "baby" is getting ready to leave for college and I am feeling a mix of emotions. It is time. I would not do anything to hold her back from this next adventure in life. I am thrilled for her and a little sad for me. College. 17 years ago I brought her home from China as a ten month old baby. It was the two of us in the world. Mama and daughter. Two girls in the tub, in the house, in the world.
And now, she is off.
When she was a little girl, wings were a part of every outfit. She has a pair of white wings that were worn with pajamas, dresses, leggings and just plain underpants. My girl could FLY! We read stories about fairies (and later about broomsticks and Quidditch), we had a resident fairy leaving mysterious notes to be found throughout the house. Wings were essential wear to the grocery, for a walk through town and on the playground.
Now her wings are spread, if not visibly, at least psychologically. College applications from all over the country are spread on her bed. She is in Spain for a term. Last summer she worked away from home. Last Fall she sailed to the Caribbean for 10 weeks. All in preparation for leaving home. She is standing on the edge of adult life with her wings outspread. Yes, she is wearing wings, again.
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