…of my friends band, and I’m thankful for that!
sometimes the parent suffers more than the child December 17, 2010
Luke had dental surgery this morning. He has three cavities and two were so bad they needed crowns (bad genetics and soft enamel…not from a bad diet or lack of oral hygiene).
We’d already tried filling a cavity by giving him Valium. It didn’t work. In fact, it made him hyper.
Then we tried the “happy gas.” Again, it didn’t work. He acted completely wide awake.
I even went to an all natural family homeopathic doctor and she prescribed chamomile tea. Guess what? Didn’t work.
The only option left was to put Luke to sleep and do all the dental work.
While Luke didn’t know this was happening, I did, and for days, I’ve been a complete wreck. I already have heightened anxiety and I honestly don’t even know how I functioned these past few days.
So up we were at 6a.m. and then at the hospital at 6:45. I’m incredibly thankful that my sister came with me and that my Aunt Linda came up from L.A. to help with all the kids.
By the time Luke was in the gurney and changed into hospital pajamas, I was on the verge of tears. But, thank God, I held it together. Even when they rolled took him into the operating room, I held it together. How? I don’t know. But I did.
Then we waited. And waited. And after about an hour and a half the surgery was over and I went into recovery so Luke would see me when he woke up.
The nurses told me my presence would be comforting, and it was to a certain extent. But he was like a lion…a crazed, roaring lion. It was the most difficult part of the day, maybe even the year: trying to comfort a scared, angry, and confused child. Finally, he calmed down.
Poor guy had blood on his nose where they had to put the tube down his throat. Poor guy was miserable and out of it all day. Poor guy hasn’t gotten off me all day. Poor guy hasn’t has the energy to even get off the couch.
But thank God this poor guy is safe and healthy. And thank God I was strong and didn’t fall apart as well. Cause let me tell you, there’s nothing worse than not being able to do anything to take away fear or pain. This is, I’m convinced, the worst part of being a parent.
cold weather November 22, 2010
I love it, love it, LOVE IT!
The temperature outside has finally gotten cold. And by cold, I mean it’s in the 40s at night, I shivered walking to my classes, and bundled up in a huge sweater as soon as I returned home.
It feels like winter is upon us and that makes me giddy with happiness.
I’m so thankful for this cold, winter weather.
even the bad times were good: an inappropriate story, a depressing movie, and ex-boyfriends November 19, 2010
I finally made time this evening to watch a movie an ex-boyfriend emailed me a link to about a week ago. This ex, whom I wrote about here, and I are friends, and sometimes we email each other interesting videos, blogs, and other things of the sort. The movie, called 51 Birch Street, was a heart-wrenching and heart-warming look at the director’s parents’ marriage.
You can watch the entire movie for free here. The film chronicles a 54 year marriage and especially the complexities and disconnect two people can have while married (especially when married!). It was thoughtful, surprising, and yes, depressing. But life, hmmm, well, isn’t life depressing sometimes? So, I guess this movie was REAL, very real.
And my ex wrote this note when he sent me the movie link: “….just probably makes life, love and the whole marriage thing a bit more real. Nothing is perfect on the inside. Nothing is perfect ever really, I guess. And humans aren’t perfect either.”
I was thinking about this quote and what it means and how often I look at other people’s relationships like they are perfect and then feel, inevitably, envious. But then I also thought how much I don’t like perfection, how much I love flaws. As much as I can even beat myself up about my flaws, there still the screwed up parts of me that I like the best. Because I’m working on them, yes, but also because they define me in so many ways: so my boobs are terrible–I gave LIFE; so I have two kids from two different fathers–I chose HAPPINESS; so I failed in some life moment–I LEARNED.
This train of through made me realize the absolute, unfiltered BEAUTY in flaws.
Which made me think of a totally inappropriate story I told one of my classes a few days ago.
This may not make a lot of sense, but then, this is how my mind works sometimes. O.K. I walked into class the other day, and I noticed one of my male students was growing a pretty thick beard, and so I commented, “Growing a beard?”
And he said, “Of course, it’s no shave November.”
So then I mused about the idea of no shave November, and then I said, “I once had a boyfriend who grew a beard, and I loved it. You know, I really love a man with a beard.”
I know, right? Total over sharing. But wait, it gets worse.
Because this ex boyfriend and his beard was on my mind, I started to laugh a little, thinking of a funny story. My class asked what I was laughing about and I just said, “Oh, an old memory.”
“Tell us,” they said.
And of course, wouldn’t you know, I opened my big mouth and told the story.
But it is a RAD story. And it goes a little something like this:
When I was 21 I had been dating this wonderful man for years (and I’ve already written about him here), but all of a sudden I started feeling overwhelmed. I felt out relationship was getting too serious (my mom had recently sent me a clipping of a beautiful wedding dress that she thought would look perfect on me if and when I married this man). So I did what any normal 21 year would do: I slowly, silently started to pull away. I wasn’t honest about my feelings, no. Rather, I made excuses that I was busy with school and other activities and just pulled away.
Yeah, anyone who thinks this is a subtle way of figuring out your feelings before having a serious and healthy conversation is so stupid. And stupid I was. He knew something was going on with me, and all it did was make him crazy that I wouldn’t talk to him.
But one night, a band was playing downtown and instead of going with my boyfriend like I normally would have, I instead told him I’d meet him at the show and went with my best friend Denise instead. We arrived, got a drink, and started dancing. Soon, my boyfriend showed up, and he was drunk, and it was like the entire few problematic months of our relationship came bubbling up. He started yelling at me–in front of everyone–and accused me of cheating on him (I wasn’t) and some other things. Finally, Denise came up and suggested we leave. Call it a night. Go home and cool down. Reconnect in the morning.
We made our way downstairs and across the parking lot to my car. As soon as we got in the car, however, we noticed my boyfriend running toward us, screaming for us not to leave. We decided to leave anyway.
As I pulled out of the parking spot and put the car in drive, my boyfriend took a running leap, projected himself with incredible accuracy, and landed –AND I SWEAR I’M NOT MAKING THIS UP–on my car window, shattering the entire windshield.
Denise was in shock. He was in shock. I was in complete shock. And while it felt like five minutes, it was really only seconds of quiet shock before I pushed the accelerator and drove to a friend’s house.
We broke up.
But lest you think terrible things about this man, well, don’t. He’s not violent. He’s not terrible. He just had a terrible, violent moment. He is, as I’ve written about before, an amazingly wonderful, caring man.
Anyway, I TOLD MY CLASS this entire story. And they listened with rapt attention. They had questions, they laughed, they were shocked. I also told them that he paid for a new windshield and then sent me a letter a day for the entire summer (with dried flowers. Yeah, I still have them) apologizing and trying to convince me to get back together with him. I didn’t. And not because of the car, but because we were not a good match.
After telling this completely inappropriate story to my class, I did actually teach them a lesson. And then as soon as class was over, because this man and I are still friends and correspond, I sent him a text telling him how I just told my entire class this story and about the love letters and about the not being a good match and how I was totally embarrassed now.
And he responded: ‘Even the bad times were good.”
Which made me smile and made me think how lucky I am to still be friends with him. And my other ex. I’ve had two very serious relationships with very wonderful men and we’ve all turned out alright. Good even. Actually, pretty damn awesome.
So as we–all three of us–navigate through the past, think about the future, and wonder about the in between, we have to–like almost everyone around us–figure out who we are and how we fit with other people. It’s a constant challenge for me, I know.
But I think it’s a good life mantra to think that even the bad times are good. Even the flaws are beautiful. Even broken people and broken relationships are important and spectacular and worthy.
I’m pretty thankful for all my flaws, all my bad times, the few men who have helped me become better, and all the life lesson in between.
sucking the life out of my last free day September 19, 2010
Today officially marks, what I consider, my last day of summer and freedom. Sure, I’ve been teaching at the community college for over a month, but that was only teaching 2 classes. Tomorrow I add 4 more classes to my schedule, and my life will become quite busy.
Gone are my afternoon naps with Luke, my time in the afternoon with Maddie, and my abundance of leisure time. What begins is more time out of the house and away from my kids, late nights and weekends spent grading, and in general, just more time working, working, working.
So today, being my last day, I tried to squeeze as much in as I could, to suck the life out of my last day of freedom.
We started with our usual Sunday hike up our favorite mountain. The way up was warm and sunny, but once we reached the top, we were engulfed in fog:
We usually spend about 15 minutes at the top, and today we had the chance to watch the fog roll away:
And then, right around the time we started to descend, the fog was gone for good:
It was just a beautiful hike. And I realized that the hike was really a nice metaphor for my working life. The next few weeks will be sunny and difficult just like the hike up was, and then it will get foggy and gloomy like I’ll feel sometime in the middle of the quarter/semester when I start to get overwhelmed and stressed. But then all to soon, that fog and gloom will clear and life will be sunny again, especially when classes end and I get a break again. I like the cyclical nature of my life in many ways.
As soon as we got home, we had the chance to visit with wonderful Christine and her boyfriend Derek, who kindly watched Luke and Maddie for an hour so I could finalize my prepping for school starting tomorrow. I’m so thankful that they could help me out for a bit and I’m thankful that I have everything done for tomorrow–no running around like crazy with last minute stuff.
Finally, we were off to a party for a colleague of mine. The bonus was we carpooled with my friends and colleagues Melanie and John.
(Melanie. The picture we took of John didn’t come out.)
I just love car rides with good friends. We had such a great conversation and they didn’t even mind that Luke was throwing popcorn in the backseat as Maddie tried her hardest to keep him entertained. I was so thankful to have had such great company!
And the party was fabulous, as evidenced by Luke enjoying a cupcake:
Now it’s almost bedtime, and I can’t wait to crawl in bed with Luke and read him a story, hold him tight, and let him know how very much I love him. I can’t wait to kiss Maddie goodnight and let her know how much I love her too.
Today was a great last day of freedom. I’m thankful for such a wonderful day.
a small step forward August 31, 2010
I have searched my entire adult life for something that I’m good at…some talent, like painting, photography, writing, etc.
So far, I’m not really talented at much.
Except for one thing, and this is a terrible talent.
I am really, really, really good at ignoring people I’m mad at.
Which actually is not a lot of people. I can only think of two people I’ve ignored…an old boyfriend who really, really hurt my feelings once over 10 years ago and my ex, Luke’s father.
My ex, Luke’s father, really hurt me after we broke up. He said some terrible things about me–to pretty much anyone who would listen. And they were mostly lies. But I live in a small town, and word gets around, and my pride was hurt as well as my reputation (to a certain degree, really. Anyone who knew me, knew the things he said weren’t really true).
But the fact it, he was hurt by me leaving the relationship. And as much as I think that the way he handles it was lame, I am not him and I don’t know what was going through his mind, though it couldn’t have been pleasant.
In fact, I was so mad that every time I saw him, I would feel a ball of rage forming somewhere in my stomach, and I felt like I’d explode.
And when we had to speak, either before Luke was born or shortly thereafter, he had a unique was of being nice on the surface, but then also being really passive aggressive and slipping in some under cutting statement that sent this ball of rage into an almost tangible fury.
Of course, he was dealing with break-up issues as well. How he dealt with it was his way of healing. It does not make him a bad person.
Anyway, at the time, I was in therapy, and my therapist suggested that I just stop talking with him–that everything we need to say to each other could be said via email or text. This wouldn’t last forever, of course, but until we could heal, it was probably the healthiest way to handle each other.
It worked wonderfully. Anything and everything we need to say concerning Luke can be said via email, and the ball of rage I once felt slowly went away. Of course, it was awkward at first not speaking to each other whenever we had a drop off/pick up of Luke, but after time, it grew to be quite natural for both of us I think. And much healthier.
And like I said, I’ve gotten really, really good at this.
But as Luke’s gotten older, I’ve started to realize that we cannot keep going on like this. That we will damage Luke if we cannot have some sort of pleasant communication while in each other’s presence.
The question then remained: how? How do you go from not speaking at all for a few years to trying to be civil, even nice?
I’m not so good at that.
Then, last week a friend of mine recommended the book Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller.
Publisher’s Weekly describes it as:
“Miller’s a young writer, speaker and campus ministry leader. An earnest evangelical who nearly lost his faith, he went on a spiritual journey, found some progressive politics and most importantly, discovered Jesus’ relevance for everyday life. This book, in its own elliptical way, tells the tale of that journey. But the narrative is episodic rather than linear, Miller’s style evocative rather than rational and his analysis personally revealing rather than profoundly insightful. As such, it offers a postmodern riff on the classic evangelical presentation of the Gospel, complete with a concluding call to commitment. Written as a series of short essays on vaguely theological topics (faith, grace, belief, confession, church), and disguised theological topics (magic, romance, shifts, money), it is at times plodding or simplistic (how to go to church and not get angry? “pray… and go to the church God shows you”), and sometimes falls into merely self-indulgent musing. But more often Miller is enjoyably clever, and his story is telling and beautiful, even poignant. (The story of the reverse confession booth is worth the price of the book.) The title is meant to be evocative, and the subtitle-”Non-Religious” thoughts about “Christian Spirituality”-indicates Miller’s distrust of the institutional church and his desire to appeal to those experimenting with other flavors of spirituality.”
I read it in a few days though I don’t know how much I’d recommend it. It didn’t move me the way it moved my friend, and it seemed too Christian fundamentalist for me. But there were definitely certain aspects of the book that I took away thinking about: trying to be more “Christ-like,” in that you should love your neighbor, actually love everyone, as well as the strong message that we are selfish, ego loving people, and we should work on ourselves before we even attempt to go out in the world and make a change. If we better ourselves, the world will be changed!
I like that part of the book because I do believe I am incredibly self-centered at times, and it’s something I’m conscious of and strive to change. I also love the part about loving everyone because it’s what I like most about Jesus (and Buddha and countless other non-Christian awesome peeps).
But half-way through the book, I also though, “My ex would probably like this book” (for several reasons that needn’t be discussed here). And then I thought, in the spirit of the book, that I’d extend some love and give him my copy.
Which meant talking to him.
Shit.
And then I also was panic-stricken for two reasons:
1. Was I really giving him this book because I thought he needs to learn something from the message: like “stop talking shit about me, asshole!”
**But after much thought, I realized that no, I wasn’t thinking about giving him the book for this reason because when I was reading it and kind of just randomly thinking, “my ex would like this,” it wasn’t parts that were particularly about who I thought he was or what I though he needed to learn or anything about that. So I’m pretty sure I just really thought he’d like the book.
2. Would he think I was giving it to him because I had a hidden agenda, like “Look how nice I am. Read this book and fix yourself.”
**Well, I can’t control what he’s going to think or what goes on in his mind, so there’s nothing I could really do about that, and if I presented him the book and said, “I’m not giving you this because I think you need to learn some important message from it which will make you a better person,” then OBVIOUSLY that’s probably exactly what he would think.
And then again, just to remind you, I had to actually talk to him. Which was the point. Which totally terrified me.
But I decided to do it.
So when I dropped Luke off, I held the book up and said, “Have you read this book.”
Him: “No. Why?”
Me: “I read it this summer and though you might enjoy it. You can have this copy. I already finished it.”
Him, looking at me suspiciously: “What’s the premise?”
Me: “It’s not a parenting book.” (and I know that wasn’t the question, but I was already nervous and I didn’t know how to describe the premise without more talking than I was ready to actually do at this point.
Him, with a look of continued suspicion: “So then what’s the premise?”
Me: “I just think you may like it.”
Then I walked away. I didn’t feel exalted or extremely impressed with myself. No mountain was moved. But I didn’t feel a ball of fury in my stomach and that’s good.
So, a small peace offering I gave today to my ex. Who know’s what will happen from here.
I’m pretty thankful I made this gesture as nerve-racking as it was. And while I’m certainly no Jesus (or Buddha or Mother Theresa or Bono), I’d like to think that they’re all high-fiving me for my attempt at kindness.
emails deleted August 30, 2010
I just finished deleting all the emails in my university email account and my gmail account.
My university email account had 2,000 messages in the inbox and countless more in the sent folder.
My gmail account had over 5,000 messages in the inbox.
Out of control, right? I thought so. I remember when I first got my gmail account and I thought how great it was because gmail didn’t erase emails (unlike hotmail–at that time–where after something like 10 days your emails were erased). And though it has been a blessing in some ways, it’s also been a huge pain in my ass to keep up with all those emails cluttering my inbox.
I’ve been meaning to do this for a few summers now, but never got around to it. The chore just seemed so HUGE.
And it was a huge time sucking ordeal. But it’s finally done. And while I did archive some important emails, most of them I didn’t. I know I’ve just deleted some really important information from my life.
Oh well.
I’m still so thankful I finally tackled this chore. It’s so freeing to see an empty inbox.
scoccer help August 29, 2010
This evening, we had a meeting with Maddie’s new soccer team. We had the chance to meet our new coach, meet the new team, and listen to all the new rules and regulations put in place this year for AYSO.
Since Maddie started AYSO soccer, there has only been one time–when she was 5–that another kid from her school was on her team. Of course, Maddie’s school is small, and AYSO tries very hard to vary what schools the kids come from, ensuring that different kids from all around the community get a chance to come together and play together, therefore strengthening community bonds, rather than just school bonds.
A noble philosophy. But as a single parent, juggling a kind of crazy schedule, it’s made the last 6 years a bit difficult for me. Not knowing the parents on each team makes it awkward to ask for help with driving, and car pooling to practice is often impossible.
Tonight, however, I found out that by pure chance, there are 3 other kids besides Maddie from her school on her team! I knew all the parents on our new team, and already, we discussed carpooling and helping each other throughout the soccer season.
I am so, so, so, so incredibly thankful that there are parents I know from Maddie’s school on our soccer team. I already see my life being much more easy this soccer season.
Maddie’s room: DONE August 28, 2010
All summer, Maddie’s room has been a work-in-progress.
She wanted a more “adult” room, and I wanted more space. We took stock. Made some plans. Calculated costs. Got rid of what we didn’t need.
First I bought bunk beds. A few weeks later, I bought the mattresses. Then, we rearranged the room. The carpets were cleaned, and today, I bought the last piece needed: a bookshelf (I swear we have more bookshelves in our house than anything else!).
Voila, a fabulous new room that we both like.
(Her new bed and bookshelf)
(The other side of her room: devoted to games and playing)
I am so, so, so thankful this project is finally done. Maddie’s thankful she has a new room. I’m thankful she’s thankful. I’m also excited because this means NO MORE EXCUSES for a messy room.
fireman’s funeral August 27, 2010
Last week, out town’s fire chief died suddenly of a heart attack. He was 61. He collapsed playing baseball, running from 1st to 2nd base.
I did not know him and know the details only from the local news’ reports.
Today there was a public memorial for him, and a procession of fire trucks through town.
I decided last night to take Luke because I knew he’d love to see all the firetrucks and that the fire chief was being carried in an old horse-drawn carriage, our town’s original fire truck. I felt a bit guilt, though: we were going to see the firetrucks and some horses, not to mourn the death of someone.
But we went anyway, and we sat patiently on the side of the road, waiting for the procession to come.
Luke played with his toy tire truck, running it up and down my leg.
After about 30 minutes, the procession came.
(color guards and bag pipes)
(our town’s first fire truck–a horse drawn carriage)
(the fire chief’s casket, covered in the American flag)
(the end of the procession)
Luke enjoyed himself. He enjoyed waving to the firemen and seeing all the motorcycle cops. I, on the other hand, started crying as soon as the bag pipes began to play. I was overcome with emotion: seeing community members on the streets,the somber family of the chief in a limo-bus, all the firemen who marched in their finest uniforms. It was all so emotional.
We went home, and even though I had no intention of doing so before I watched the funeral procession, I turned on the T.V. to watch the 2 hour live televised memorial on our local station. I was even more overcome with emotion. The fire chief, being eulogized by his closest friends and colleagues, would have been proud. And I loved hearing the heart-felt and amusing stories about him.
He seemed like a wonderful man, and I felt deep sympathy for his family and friends.
It seems we lost a great man last week. I’m thankful I went to the procession.
For in my initial silly attempt to amuse Luke, I found a much greater reason for being there: a celebration of life and the wonder of death, a pride in my community.
