Little tiny pieces of contradictions..

~"Gonna keep on tryin' 

Till I reach my highest ground"~ Stevie Wonder

    

        A long time ago, when they were little, I had thought that if we made it this far-that this was the time when it was  going to get easier...that-because they were older..I would need to do less..That somehow they would magically turn into thoughtful young adults with a general idea of what they were going to do and how they were going to do it.  I had images of all of us sitting down with a cup of tea..I would be dressed in an adult sort of outfit..(not the fleece leggings and tee shirt I am wearing now) my hair would be brushed (unlike now)...and we would..I don't know..talk about adult sorts of things..and then (after they rinsed out their cups and put them in the dishwasher) off they would go..to do these adult things...and Omar and I would stand arm in arm in the doorway and wave them off ....and then??  I never dreamed about what fictional Omar and I were going to do after sending them off...perhaps we'd go where all the old couples go...to the early bird special-(dinner at three in the afternoon) and then home to watch Wheel Of Fortune,,,until bedtime or death I guess...It was a weird fantasy-I mean, I don't even like tea! But, I guess it was one of those things that got me through the tough times...before potty training..when I seemed to spend hours just looking for shoes and fixing snacks...and going to appointments...and finding shoes....

  Now, we are actually here...sort of. They find their own shoes-mostly, fix their own snacks...and occasionally put their dishes in the dishwasher. There was a time when I really thought that I'd be eighty years old and still filling snack bags with goldfish while herding them in to the mini-van..so that we wouldn't be late for my podiatrist appointment..

  I am just not one of those people who has ever thought "they grow too fast"..I've never mourned their childhoods...never wished them to be small again-hell no! But at the same time..I never gave much thought to their actually leaving. As in they were REALLY going to do it. Fantasized? Yes....But now that we are here...I'm not sure what I think...

  There is just so much more that they need to know...little things-the stuff you take for granted..The other day, I asked one of my kids to clean the sinks in the bathrooms.  They were icky-covered in toothpaste and all the other stuff bathroom sinks get covered with. I didn't really think about it...until I came home...The inside of the sinks were spotless-pristine even...the outside-where all the icky stuff was?  Not so much..."Hey bud?  I thought that I asked you to clean the sinks?"  "I did!"..."But...well...there is toothpaste and junk all over them..".."But you said to clean the sink...you didn't say the outside parts!"  *sigh* He was right-I didn't. I did not specify in exact detail what I wanted him to do.....THIS is the stuff that I worry about..the little bits...,the minutia..the details-oh how the devil is in the details!
I know-it sounds like nothing..but really?  These are the things they need to be able to figure out as they move on with their lives.  I feel like there just isn't enough time in the day..in the week..in the month...like I'm in some sort of RACE against time...If I don't teach them how to get from A to B...how will they ever get to C and D..and all the other letters? Their growing up has me in a tizzy..So much so that I sometimes forget..how far they have come...and how much they already know...

I don't  understand how...but my Oscar seems to have this sixth sense when it comes to me and my worries...The other night, he came to me and said "Mama?...What is the meaning of life?"..( He just blows me away sometimes) I said something along the lines of.."I think that is a question that humans have been asking since the beginning of time..what is our purpose?  Why are we here?..I don't think that there is really one answer..do you? "..He looked at me and said "I think that we are just supposed to live it.."

Out of the mouths of babes...

The number one rule of our family is "Be who you are" It is our mantra-our motto..The one thing that I have insisted upon since they were old enough to communicate..Yet here I am- worrying about who they aren't.  I do not like this about myself.  It makes me feel like a hypocrite...One hand is pushing them out while the other is having a hard time letting them go.  The world is not always the kindest place-especially if you are different. They know that because I tell them...But I also tell them that there is a place for them in it..that they belong. I know!  It is a total contradiction-and I own it. It is something that I have to work on in myself...Work I will...because it would be all too easy to give in to my anxiety..all too easy to convince them to stay...all to easy to convince myself that this is what they want to do. But what would that accomplish?  As Oscar so accurately put it-Life is supposed to be lived...

  My kids know that no matter what-they always have a home with us..Always. I think that knowing this..knowing that they always have a place to go to-encourages them to dream..to look ahead..to think about taking those steps towards living their own lives..It comforts me too..especially on my darker days..when anxiety is trying to take up residence in my head...I  just have to remember to breathe-Remember to be in the present..Remember to go over bathroom cleaning techniques and to brush my hair....the future although scary-is just that-the future....and it IS theirs.      

   

  

One year...and today..

~ "let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry...have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere - be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.”`Betty Smith~A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

 Summer vacation is not like it used to be..or at least not like I remember it.  When it seemed like there was an endless stretch of days- possibility ahead of me...First thing in the morning I would be out the door riding my bike..running in the woods..an eternity spent outside outside playing "red light green light" or "ring and run"  until the street lights came on- which everyone knows is  the universal signal that it was time to go home. It was a rare day that was spent inside-as most of us had mothers admonishing us to  "GO OUTSIDE AND PLAY!!" The days were warm, but I don't remember being bothered by it-except maybe at night..when all we had were window fans blowing in hot air. So much has changed since then. At least for me. Summer still means endless days..only they aren't as carefree as they used to be

  I suppose that some of it has to do with being an adult-and some with how the times have changed.  Now days, kids have play dates and organized activities..Wii, Nintendo, and more television stations than I can count. When I was growing up we had four television stations (Omar had one) ..and they rarely-if ever, played kids shows. So-we had no choice but to learn how entertain ourselves. My problem now- has been in teaching my kids how to entertain themselves. Especially with all the fun technology and gadgets...which- in the early years- I embraced with wide open arms. It saved my life-and that is in all seriousness.

  Yes, there were many days that I had shamelessly allowed my children to sit in front of the television-or the computer screen...sometimes for hours. I admit it.  For years the background soundtrack of my life/ house were the theme songs from every obnoxious childrens program my kids were obsessed with. The thing is-the kids-especially the boys  gained a lot of knowledge from these shows..I remember when Sam was the only one in third grade to know what "haggis" was-thanks Scooby Doo! They learned about the world in a way that wasn't overwhelming. It calmed them down-made sense of things. So, I don't regret it. Even if their theme songs have become etched in my brain... So much so-that, to this day, I can still remember every single word to every single Thomas the Tank Engine song-and most of the dialogue from every single episode...Oh how I wish that there were a quiz show based on that.."I'll take Thomas's cheeky friends for 1000 Alex." I would be financially set for life! 

  Every summer, since the kids have started school...I make these plans...schemes if you will.."This summer we are going to do science projects, and visit the library..and spend our time out doors!" *sigh*...and then August rolls around and I'm buying school supplies and I realize we have done none of it...and that the reality is that I spent the majority of my time delegating whose turn it was to use the computer..or pick the t.v. show. But-this summer...this summer it's going to be different. I swear.

  A year ago yesterday-Omar, along with many of the other well paid employees of his company, lost his job. It set us in a tail spin.  But, sometimes spinning is good. This was definitely a year of spins. We reevaluated, refocused..and basically figured out that life wasn't about work..that we wanted to do things..have adventures..LIVE our lives-be the examples that we wanted our kids to see. At the same time, our kids each spun through their own things as well...no one however, as much as Oscar. 

  I don't know what happened..or even why things happened..But last summer, you would have had to PRY Oscar away from the computer..insist he do something that wasn't electronic..He wasn't interested in anything other than what he knew. But then- a few months ago-things started changing...it was gradual at first.  He started asking to walk to town.."I'm thirteen" was his reason....and then he brought home a brochure for summer sleep away camp..AND looked up the web site-AND had me fill out an application..."I'm thirteen" he told me.."I'm old enough to do this"..and then he started walking away from the computer.."I need to get out of my head" he's told me...and then he went to the school dance-alone.."I want to" he said...Today-he(and Sam) started working at our restaurant (bought as a result of this year)..They swept and stocked,,cleaned and folded pizza boxes..measured pasta and made lasagna- on their own. Today-we started them on the road to real independence-and they loved it.

 Every single moment of chaos and uncertainty- that started a year ago yesterday, was totally worth it for today..Today really was priceless. 

  Our Summer break started this past Wednesday.  We have already gone to the library..Zoe has read two books and has planned our first science project.(she really wants to be home schooled)  we are building a volcano on Sunday.All of them have spent at least an hour each day reading. I have only heard "I'm bored" 540 times (roughly-and 536 of them were from Lily) and the only back ground noise has been from the kids playing in the pool.  Not bad so far...

There are no dingo's in Canada.....

~"She needs wide open spaces

Room to make her big mistakes"~Susan Gibson

   

       

 When I was fifteen, I knew everything. I did! I knew how the world worked..I knew what I was going to do and how I was going to do it. Everything was crystal clear-black and white-simple. There was no telling me any differently. It was my life and I was going to live it. My parents did not agree. But..after a series of..what I like to call "learning experiences"(my parents would probably have called them "legal issues") It was decided that home was not the best place for me to be. So I left.

  Fast forward thirty four years and I no longer know anything..at least, that is what my fifteen year old tells me. The thing of it is-he's kind of right! I am finding that I have lost all sense of what I used to know. I blame my kids. Until I had them-the world was a wonderful place filled with adventures just waiting to happen. After kids-it became a murky place filled with menace..and bad things just waiting to happen. Gone was the happy go lucky slightly irresponsible woman .. replaced by a paranoid loon of a woman who thinks that bad people(or dingo's, werewolves...zombies ) were lurking behind every tree and or bush just waiting to harm her babies!    *sigh* I need to find my fifteen year old self again. Not just for my quickly growing kids-but for my own sanity as well.

  Last week, Sam went on a three day school trip to Quebec. That in itself is amazing.  The kid who we were told not to expect much from- went away with his classmates-for three days! Out of the country! How amazing is that? My boy continues to astound us-daily. When we first heard about the trip back in September-we thought it was a great idea.  In fact, we continued to think it was a great idea...until he left. Then, for whatever reason-my paranoia kicked in. "He's going to a different country! What if he gets lost? What if loses his money? Does he have enough socks?(I gave him 10 pair) Are there dingo's in Canada?" I was crazed..pacing..panicky...mostly because forgot his phone. The special phone that we bought BECAUSE it would allow him to text us from Canada.  The phone that caused Omar to drive in a Keanu Reeves-esque fashion chasing the bus(for a half hour) in order to try and get it to him-he didn't. The phone that he INSISTED he had as he got on the bus-but that I found happily charging in his room when we got back from dropping him off.  Yup-THAT phone. Which led me to rant "I trust him to go out of the country and he forgets his phone-what was I thinking??!!!"  Yup, I was a mess...and it was kind of ridiculous. I admit it. I worried for nothing.  Sam found a way to contact me...and I have some lovely friends who also checked in on him for me. My boy problem solved all on his own..which is what we have raised him to do...which is what he is supposed to do..So why do I have such a hard time letting go? It isn't fair to him.

  When I was fifteen, I didn't have a cell phone..I probably wouldn't have used it if I did..well, at least to call home.I spent a lot of time running wild..leaping before I looked..the hell with consequences-I lived in the moment. Sam, is my polar opposite. He's cautious, he thinks things through...and although he may be a little absent minded at times (PHONE) he is so very responsible. How fabulous is that? And yet-I still worry..although after this trip-maybe not as much.

  Sam came home a different person..or maybe it was just that I was able to finally fully recognize who he is. High school hasn't been easy for him. We live in a very small town-and while mostly everyone has been very open and accepting of him-it is a double edged sword-because he is also known as a special needs kid.  A label he wants very much to get rid of.  He just wants to be "Sam." A kid who does all the things that he does for no other reason other than that is who he is. Maybe I need to look at him with clearer eyes as well. Maybe I need to remember what is was like to be fifteen.

  He came to me the other night and said "Mama...sometimes I worry that I am never going to get out of this town."  Of course I did my best to reassure him..to let him know that he would indeed leave one day-sooner rather than later...that he would find his place and his people...and while I believe these things and know in my heart of hearts that they are true-it still hurts me to see him struggle in the now. I owe him more than I am giving him at this moment. It's time for me to start trusting in who he is.An amazing and decent young man who I am totally blessed to have in my life.

  Right now, we are looking at Summer programs for him..someplace he can go away to..where he can find his feet..spread his wings a little..makes some mistakes-own his accomplishments..be who he is.  As long as he remembers his phone...and their aren't any dingo's...or werewolves...I should be o.k.  

Who is changing who?

I think that once a person becomes a parent, they start aging in dog years. For every one year of having a child-the parent ages seven. That would make me roughly 114 years old. Unless of course you age seven years per child-in which case I would be 219. By all rights, I should be collecting social security...or at least living in Florida.


No doubt about it, having kids changes your life. In an instant. I remember bringing our first baby home from the hospital. We carried him in, placed his seat on the floor and just looked at him. Now what? I had absolutely no clue whatsoever as to what to do with him. You would think that he would have come with some sort of owners manual. There I was with this 8lb. 6oz. ball of need, and I was overwhelmed. I had never really had to take care of anyone other than myself, and I wasn't always very good at that. I kept waiting for a representative to show up from the hospital saying "We made a mistake-we'll be taking him back now" I was an irresponsible, self centered and flighty kind of girl. How could anyone possibly entrust me with the care of a baby? How could I possibly do this? What was I thinking?


I remembered a story that my sister had told me about when she had brought her first child home. She too was overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation.


She had been up all night with her crying baby. She was tired and at her wits end, thinking, "when is this going to end?" At that moment, she realized that it wasn't. That she needed to accept that this was how things were going to be-that this was what her life was about now. That things would change, he would grow up, it would get easier. She needed to accept and move on. She told me that once she had come to this realization-things got better



That is the single most best advice that I was ever given as a mother.


That first year was quite a learning experience for me. I think that I had the cleanest most fed, washed and changed baby on the planet. I sterilized his bottles, his pacifiers, his clothes. If it fell on the floor, it was washed or discarded. If he drooled on his shirt-he was changed immediately. My poor boy had so many baths, we dried his skin out. I was uber-mom, and I was going to do everything right.


Imagine my dismay, when my curly headed chubby boy of baby goodness started to retreat into his own world. His words, his eye contact,...slowly diminished before my eyes. What had I done wrong? What was I doing wrong?Was it the tuna I had eaten during my seventh month of pregnancy? Had some errant germ broken through my barrier of sterilization? I panicked. I was so afraid that this was somehow my fault..that perhaps my greatest fear was reality-I shouldn't have had a child, I was obviously not good enough to be a mother. Oh it was quite the pity party, I should have had it catered.





It took us two years to get a firm diagnosis for our son. During that time, I forgot about being the "perfect" mother, I stopped stressing out about clean laundry and sterile bottles. The only thing I cared about was my son-him. Not his clothes or his bottles or even his lack of eye contact or language- Him. It was during that time that my sisters advice came back to me. I needed to accept that this was who my son was. That this diagnosis, though helpful in explaining some things, didn't alter anything. I was still his mom-and he, still my son. Nothing in the world can ever change that. Not even dirty dishes. For that I am thankful. We accepted and we moved on.


I think that, 3 kids and 10 years later, I finally may be getting the hang of this mothering thing. My house certainly needs cleaning, there is laundry to do, and my 3 year old is chewing on something that I hope is edible. I think that at age 219 (in dog years) I may finally be growing up.