thankful/joy

Yesterday was one of those "wow, I'm so blessed to have the life I have" kind of days. It was easygoing, low-stress overall, and lots of fun. We made banana bread in the morning, went to S's swim class, went to Montclair park for almost 2 hours, spent time at the mocha workshop at eastmont (a first for us), came home, had an early dinner with daddy (tacos) before he went off to the airport. I had time to clean after he left, so we didn't go to bed with a dirty kitchen. Folded a couple loads of laundry. We read the last few chapters in S's fairy book (cuddly creatures), and I read the first section or so of deep and wide. So in that day, we had family stuff, church stuff, and spent time meeting new friends at the park and library. S played well with her swimming friends, her park playmates and her craft and computer buddies at the library. It was amazing. Both my girls making friends, adapting to their environments, finding joy where we are, enjoying lunch outside, the stagecoach at montclair, the glue and sequins and yarn on their shared paper bag puppet, the miracle of turning rotten bananas into something sweet and yummy. It was just a good day. I even had time to do some thinking about my future (squeezed a five-year plan onto a 4x6 index card). And I'm so thankful to God for making it possible, and for my husband for being so supportive of me living the life I imagined.

Turning a leaf

I may be standing at the precipice of a new chapter in my life.  Tomorrow is my first day of the BAWP institute--which could lead to other consulting jobs and/or just a reinvigoration of my teaching passions and growth.  In preparing for the first day of our institute as well as my job interview (!) on Wednesday, I have felt a surge of excitement over a) getting better at what I do, b) cultivating my career with a newfound sense of intentionality and purpose--yes I'll do that, no I won't do that" and c) having my own *space*--away from the laundry, away from toys on the floor, and as much as I loove them!--away from my sugars and my honey!!

I am looking forward to being out in the fresh air, feeling my mind working, thinking of ideas and connections, solving problems, and writing it down.  I'm looking forward to meeting people, giving feedback, sharing my journey and hearing about others'.  I'm looking forward to what the new season might bring.  And I know I've got what it takes to face the challenges that are sure to come--and THRIVE.

My Life According to

Just finished a fun breakfast with an artist friend and we discussed something I thought I'd share here.  You get to pick which story you'd like to tell--about yourself, your life, your path.  In this age of instagram, Facebook, and all things self-published, we get to choose our narratives. We pick which details to share and not share (hopefully!), and I'm sure, we also lay out the best details of our lives: pictures of celebrations, accomplishments and laugh-worthy moments.  When I've made a quick login to facebook, indubitably there's the "Look at this, I've got such a sweet hubby!" photo of flowers and chocolate, the "amaaazing view I have on vacation/in my new apartment/from my new office"and of course, the gorgeous plate of food we had a dinner that you just have to see!

Nothing wrong with those.  I just find it interesting that we all have an insta-platform to share and present our best selves, our best life.  And when I think about it, if I were to tell the story of {my life right now} in the most laudable terms possible, here's how it would go:

I'm really enjoying the season I'm in right now.  I'm able to be at home with my girls while they're little.  I've chosen to pull back from a full time career in order to really enjoy and soak up these special moments.  I've been able to witness every one of Little Sugar's milestones: first steps, first time saying "sister", first time crawling up onto our Cal King bed solo.  I witnessed the way her eyes lit up as she discovered the power in her tiny index finger when getting the lights to turn on or sounding the elevator alarm.  And I've watched Big Sugar mature.  Yesterday she helped me fold an entire load of laundry--she's superb at folding the pants!  I have a blast making a daily visual map of our day together each morning.  Yesterday's included the following pictures, in this order: 1) a banana, 2) a bag of clean laundry, 3) a t-shirt, 4) a bookshelf, 5) swings, 6) a house, 7) paint brush and crayons, 8) ... we ate, folded clothes, got dressed, went shopping, to the park/marina, came home, ate, cleaned some more, played some more and rested.

I love having this flexibility in my schedule.  I'm discovering new gems I'd never seen--museums, parks, libraries.  Each day we wake up is a new adventure.  Meanwhile I've got one foot in the professional game as I'm preparing for the BAWP institute this summer.  That could lead to nice opportunities all over the region and maybe even world.  My colleagues are doing neat things and I know my path is only uphill from here.

And I say all that to show how life is what you make it.  I could go on an equally long rant with a negative slant about the same life--pointing out the inconveniences, the questions, the difference between this life and the one I once lived.  But why?  Why not be happy?  Why not share my life from a sugar-drizzled pov?  Because at the end of the day, my life *is* sweet...if only I would be open to tasting it.

My "Strong-Willed" Daughter

So my daughter has a strong will.  I'm talking about Big Sugar here.  She's smart, she's sassy and in her own mind, she's fully capable of making her own decisions.

"Hey Sugar, get down from that slide!"
[shakes head no, keeps climbing]

"Sugar!  Let's watch Fresh Beat!  We'll have fun dancing!"
"No.  I want to watch the DoodleBops.  DoodleBops are SOfun!" [grabs and inserts the DVD]

And then there are the more covert operations...
"No, Sugar, you can't have that licorice right now.  You have to eat your dinner!"
"OK." [puts candy back]
3 hours pass, dinner is over.
As I clean the kitchen, I discover,  in the trash, the licorice wrapper.  Licorice, of course, is nowhere to be found.

So it's cases like that last one that have me wringing my fingers.  It's the disobedience, and furthermore, as we experienced today*, the lying, that have got me wondering.

*Spent time at preschool in a mini-conference with teacher following Big Sugar's admission that she told Mommy something different than what happened: "I was tricking her."

Some folks will tell us that it's perfectly normal for kids to tell "fibs," to bend the truth to what they want it to be, often in an effort to avoid getting in trouble.  And yes, as with most difficult behavior, this can be construed or maybe even more aptly, conformed, into some sort of strength.  In this case, that strength would be creativity.  While we of course will teach her why it's not okay to lie, turned another way, we could argue that the best leaders are able to see what isn't seen, to make things appear, to in fact change their realities to be what they want them to be.  And that's the beauty buried within this behavior.

But at the same time, it can certainly become a problem--especially for little girls who look like mine.

What if a teacher, a coach, an adult somewhere down the line doesn't look at my brown baby girl and see her strength, doesn't "have time" to redirect her creative energy towards a positive outcome?  What if they see her do something different than what was asked of her, and instead of creativity they see only "defiance," "disobedience," and "disrespect"--any one of which will get you sent straight to detention?  What if instead of "you are strong, but you have to be aware of other people's feelings," they use words like "mean," "bully," and "troublemaker" to label her?

Maybe it's my years of working in continuation education that have me thinking along this path, or what I see daily in our communities.  I watch as kids whose innocence was so prominent just a couple years back now have their faces plastered on the 6 o'clock news as Suspects.  I see those not-too-long-ago babyfaces screen-printed onto their friends' RIP shirts--the urban tribute to another life lost.

And it hurts to realize that the paths may start like this--a yearning to explore, to be creative.  A desire to avoid disappointing someone, an unannounced need to be celebrated and guided.  It hurts to know that, without the proper supports, the path may not turn out too well, the light cast upon them quickly, subtly, changing from a glimmer of hope and joy to a glare of scrutiny and shame.

Noooo....Do Chapter Books Say The End?

At the library today, while Little Sugar and I played with a chunky wooden puzzle and she flung one book after another from the big basket of board books, Big Sugar ventured over to the chapter books.  She's 4 years old, if I may remind you.  And this isn't the first time she's been over to those spiraling racks full of tons of titles in various series.  She came sauntering over to us once and again with title after title: Abigail the Breeze Fairy, Louise the Lily Fairy, Pearl the Cloud Fairy.  Sensing a pattern?

And so whether it's because of My Little Pony, or Tinkerbell and all her flying friends, my daughter is in love with fairies and all their magic dust, special spells and yes, even the evil monsters that come with them.  I don't know how I feel about that.  But I do think it's something special that she's serious about these (albeit mini-) chapter books.  She's becoming a big girl!  Yeah yeah I know we parents are always saying that.  But really, she's turning down the big, colorful drawings and familiar characters she's always known for beige pages with lots of tiny words and an occasional line drawing here and there?!  

I can see it now: she and I huddled together in the soft glow of a bedside reading light--me reading in a calm-mommy reader voice, her actively imagining the scenes I relay.  A new kind of bonding for us both that can continue even into her double-digit years, and dare I say, even into adolescence *gasp*. Suddenly I'm enthralled by the prospect of bonding with the teenage daughter who's somehow just right around the corner.

But I snap out of my fairy fantasy when I realize my teeny tot is standing there jumping up and down in her purple pants and purple barrettes, crying out: "Igottagopee Igottagopee!"

We'll take the books home, and we'll have big girl storytime, and she'll be my big girl, tween, and my teenager too.  But not before I help her get to that potty.

Can't sleep...I'm dreaming!

Been up since pre-dawn, thinking, exploring and enjoying the uptick in my heartbeat over the thought of expanding my writing.  I feel like I'm really onto something here.  I think back to conversations I've had with other writers--there's nothing like that space of exploring and imagining and sharing together.  From a recent conversation with a fellow mom writer who struggles with questions of "filters" and sharing, to past writing groups I've done through the Writing Project, the times I've heard "ooh, that's publishable!", and the joy I found in autobiographical creative writing courses, I'm recognizing a valuable pattern.  There is a part of me that comes to life only when writing.

In writing I am able to be me, wholly individual and at the same time, able to share, interconnected with those around me.  I am able to reflect and simultaneously to create--a beautifully reciprocal feat.

The possibilities abound.  On my horizon lies the writing I'll do this summer with my group in the Writing Project, alongside fleshing out this blog--perhaps importing some of my previously unpublished writing and certainly continuing with new reflections.  I'm excited to discover (meetups, local and online spaces for writing, books, blogs) and create (here, this summer, maybe even a mom writer group??).

Writing--a gift that's grasped me, a gift I long to share.

The Beauty of a Simple Day

The funny thing about being a stay at home mom is that I feel most like a stay at home when we don't stay at home.  Today was one of those days when I was able to breathe in the beauty of being a sahm, and I felt it most when I was out with the girls, had gone to preschool storytime at the library, then to Big Sugar's gymnastics class, and then out for a little shopping.  It was as we got out of the car, heading into Ross, that a wave of "Wow.  I LOVE this life" hit me.

Something as simple as holding N in one arm, and holding Big Sugar's fingernail-bitten hand with my other hand as we stared ahead at the looming giant of a store, the automatic doors opening occasionally to release a senior citizen and their family member, or another mom with a small kids like me.  Something about that moment made me blurt out, "I love spending time with you and Little Sugar, Big Sugar.  Isn't it fun for us to be together?"  She agreed with a "uhm-hmm."

Her full reply didn't come until later today, when at a random moment she offered, "I like going to stores Mommy, it's so fun when we go together."  And while I am in no way trying to create a life bent on consumerism, there was something special about us being able to be out when most people aren't, to be able to be flexible and somewhat spontaneous, not caught in traffic, not caught in a web of scheduling, but just out and about.  Together.