Too Soon?

Is it too early to start thinking about my daughters' weddings?

You see, I've just discovered BonBonerie. Their cakes are truly works of art. AND they taste oh, so good. {Yes, I know they've been a Cincinnati staple for a long, long time, but for me they're new!}

Yes, this is a very scrumptious discovery, but I'm in no rush. Let's hope the girls don't discover their future spouses for another 15, 20 years. In the meantime, we'll need some more birthday cakes...

Over What?

I'm thinking about my post from yesterday, specifically about the long list of friends (myself included) who have suffered injuries over the last few months...

Are we overachievers?

 

Or overdoers?

It's interesting that we're all women.

Have you read the article that came out this week about the level and length of exercise that middle-age women need in order to maintain their health and weight? Even before the article was published, we knew intuitively that a few minutes of exercise here and there wouldn't help us maintain our fitness goals. And so maybe we push ourselves a little too hard. Yet one could argue that pushing yourself to achieve goals provides not only the physical rewards, but also psychological ones: It makes us feel good all over.

Until we get hurt. Then we feel bad.

So where's the happy medium? That's what I'm pondering now. Any thoughts?

Life Cycles

It's good to know that life's events come in cycles, because if I thought that the current phase we're in would last forever, I'd feel very despondent.

{Talking about personal life here... As for our current political environment, I'm not even going to go there, but there are plenty of political bloggers who are happy to oblige. Feel free to insert your own political opinions into this metaphor if you'd like.}

But, thankfully, experience has taught me that it won't last forever. When life is at its worst, that's the time to celebrate, for it means that things will surely improve. That's just the way cycles work.

Starting in the fall, and continuing into these wee early days of spring, many of my friends have sustained serious injuries. Not life-threatening, but serious enough to put their lives off-kilter. Take me, for example. Tomorrow will mark 4 weeks on crutches - I'm almost halfway done! {Note the sarcasm there.} Yet again I have sustained a stress fracture of the femoral neck. It's the same injury I had 1-1/2 years ago, but in the other hip. This time around, I completely broke down in despair in the first two days after receiving the diagnosis, but in the weeks following, I've actually coped better overall than the first time: I know that if I keep my weight off that leg, it will heal on its own.

My friend, however, wasn't so fortunate. Her stress fracture was not diagnosed until it fractured all the way through, requiring immediate surgery on Tuesday. Now she's got three screws in her leg. Another friend tore her calf muscle, requiring a boot and crutches for at least six weeks this winter. Another is still recovering from rotator cuff surgery in December. One broke her hand in a bloody fall on the ice last month. Yet another sees knee surgery in her near future - she's hoping the knee will hold up until the tennis league playoffs.

But we injured ones should thank our lucky stars. Because over the winter, we've known 3 friends and acquaintances who have been diagnosed with cancer. So sad - but even sadder that one of them is a child, and this is his second bout with the dreadful disease. A fourth is undergoing testing on the suspicion that his cancer from many years ago has returned. A neighbor lost her husband, without warning, due to a heart attack. In addition, the beloved pet dogs of two of our friends have passed away this winter from cancer. Though not human, they were very much a part of their families' lives and their passing has left a void.

In addition to the injuries and diseases we've encountered this winter, we've known many friends and neighbors who have been hit hard by the economic downturn - their jobs lost, their businesses struggling - and suddenly they're forced to reallocate resources and juggle priorities. The psychological malaise of such struggles is felt even more painfully than the physical discomfort from, say, a fractured hip.

To add insult to injury, we have had to endure these physical and economic downturns in the literal dark and cold of winter.

Yet the changing of seasons has always been a perfect analogy for life itself. For in all cycles, one phase gradually and surely gives way to the next. Just as our days become more light-filled, warmer, and colorful, so will our outlook on life. Injuries will heal. We have faith that those who struggle for their lives will find the inner strength and medical interventions that enable them to emerge victorious! New jobs will be found, money will be made. Babies will be born. Yes, even tournaments will be won.

This was a long, hard winter. In spring, we may still struggle, but perhaps with greater hope for the future. Nature reminds us that life never stays the same; the dreary gives way to the joyful. The grass becomes greener each day, emerging from dormancy to soften the ground we walk on, and the buds on the trees emit sweet fragrance to stimulate our winter-stifled olfactory sense, and the flowers bloom, revealing the palette of colors that brighten our landscape and our outlook.

We may have to make some adjustments to our path, but the light ahead of us will show us the way. Together, we will leave the dark behind.

Stored

My husband pointed out: something is wrong when we need a storage room to hold our storage containers. They're empty.

It happened like this: our family grew, and along with it grew the number of toys, supplies, and "stuff." We needed storage bins to keep all that stuff in its place.

Then we redid the laundry room and the pantry with permanent shelving and cabinetry. With the kids getting older, we've also gotten rid of the little-kid toys, with all their thousands of associated little pieces that needed to be sorted and stored. We just don't need all those plastic containers anymore.

As I got rid of the stuff inside them, I chucked all the containers in here. Now I can't walk in the utility room anymore!

Goodwill, here I come...

All Over Again

This is a love story. Not one of romantic love, but one of parental love.

Once upon a time, twelve years ago, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. I was in awe and I fell in love with him from the moment I laid eyes on him. He was perfect.

And then he became not-so-perfect-all-the-time because, well, he started to grow and develop his own personality and challenge his parents and fight with his sisters and express his own opinions and exercise his independence. My love for him has never been at risk, but that feeling of awe sometimes is.

Because he's not perfect, and neither am I, we misunderstand one another at times.

But this weekend, a wonderful thing happened. My son and I spent four days alone together in New York City. We saw the sights that he was interested in. I followed him in and out of stores that caught his eye. We ate burgers and pizza, his favorite items on any menu. We talked. We laughed.











What we did NOT do was worry about homework or chores or eating a well-balanced meal or any of our other everyday concerns. We just enjoyed each other's company, chatted about whatever came to mind, and hung out.

In the process, I regained that feeling of awe for him. Despite the really miserable, rainy weather, this kid did not even hint at a complaint. I realized that his lack of concern for having things preplanned and organized and just-so (a characteristic that I do not appreciate when it appears as lack of motivation to complete homework on time or to get his dirty laundry in the hamper) also enables him to enjoy life without having to rearrange it to suit a preconceived notion. He can just "be," taking in his surroundings and appreciating where he is in his life right now.

He looks a lot like me, but his personality, strengths, and interests are very different from my own. In our everyday world at home, the differences between us can cause disconnection. For both of us. But when I watched him - the real him - while on our trip, I could appreciate that his creativity, intuition, people skills, interest in anything novel, openness to new experiences, and adaptability to new situations are truly awesome characteristics. I really wouldn't want him to trade them for anything in the world. They set him apart from me and from others, and he will experience much success in his life, no matter what his report card says in 6th grade or how clean his room is.

Yes, I fell in love with my perfectly imperfect boy all over again last weekend. And I think he likes me, too.

Blankie

I just sent my daughters off to school - with tears welling up in one of the girls.

Since last evening, she's been in a near-constant melancholic and tearful state because I'm leaving today. I'll be gone only for a few days. {I'm taking her brother with me - you'd think she'd be happy!} And her twin and father will be here with her during that time. Yet she's overwhelmed by the fact that I'll be gone.

My other two are perfectly comfortable when I leave town - with a sibling, with their father, with friends. But this child acts devastated, like a piece of her is being forcibly removed and she's not sure she'll ever get it back. I am her security blanket. And when I go, I am taking her blankie away.

Of course, I always return. Her mind knows that. But her heart is in a wretched state of agony.

And it's hard for me to leave her when she's so deeply saddened, especially knowing I'm the cause of it. Yet I know I'm not doing anything wrong. Overall, she's not left out - I take trips with the whole family, and with the twins alone for some "girl time." But it's important to also go away with my husband (after all, without "us" there wouldn't be "them"). And with friends. And sometimes with their brother for some mother/son bonding time.

In the case of traveling with my son, it's especially essential now. He's entering a stage of his life in which peers are increasingly influential, and we - my husband and I - need to maintain a close relationship with him so he'll trust and listen to us when the waters he navigates become rough. My husband and son take an annual trip to the wilderness with the rest of the guys in our family, allowing them time away from friends, women, technology, and other distractions so they can have quality experiences together. Likewise, I look for opportunities to spend time with my son, away from certain distractions. We need this time to have fun together, without my nagging him about chores and homework, allowing spontaneous conversation to shed light on each other's perspective. This is not wrong.

But she feels like it is.

So now my excitement for leaving {just six more hours!} is tempered by her despair.

But maybe this is the time she'll learn to feel secure without her blankie.

Perceptions and Expectations

My longest-held job is also my current one: stay-at-home mom. Yes, I've done this full-time for more than 12 years. On the side I've taken occasional and varied part-time or freelance jobs, but I'd hardly construe such employment a career. But now I'm ready for a new phase in my life, and I've decided to join the full-time work force. After such a long absence, I expect the process to take a little longer than it might for others, so I won't be disappointed if my transition takes up to a year.

I just really need something big and challenging to sink my teeth into.

Something different from what I did all those years ago, pre-children.

I have an idea for the direction in which I'd like to head. It's new for me, but I feel this pull in that direction. In fact, I've felt and suppressed that pull before in the past. This time, I'd like to follow it and see where it leads.

But I can't traverse it it blindly and alone. So this week I met with a career coach. Although I had done some research so I could come prepared to the initial consultation, I wondered: would she think my aspirations were doable for me? I know I'm a woman with with a rather spotty resume, but I feel I have the intelligence and drive to do something new, and do it well. In her professional and detached view, would she agree with me, or would she find me to be a woman with unrealistic expectations and an irrelevant skillset?

We all have a perception of ourselves. Just as others have perceptions of us. Often they do not match up. When we find differences, we may try to change theirs or change ours.

But this time, I was relieved to find that the coach's perception of me largely matched my own. We were both easily able to see where my strengths and passions lie and where I'm going to need her nudges. Some tasks will be fun for me, and I'll fly through them easily. Others will seem like unappealing work. But I'll have to do it all.

I feel like I've taken the first right step toward a right direction for me. I'm energized, and not overwhelmed, by the additional preparation that lies ahead for me.

Which is good, because there's a lot of it ahead.

Taking Matters Into His Own Hands

He's a dreamer, a wisher, a hoper, and a wanter, that son of mine.

Just the other day, after I had reminded him of a practical aspect of some situation we were discussing, he exclaimed: "Stop, Mom - You're putting too much reality in my fantasy!"

He always assumes the best-case scenario will magically materialize, and he never concerns himself with practical means or contingency plans. {I guess that's what I'm here for.}








Last weekend, our family went to the Auto Expo at the convention center downtown. We go most years, mainly because my son has had an interest in cars since before he could verbalize it. And it's actually useful to have all those cars in one place when we're in the market for a new car. But this year we aren't, so we let our son lead the way toward the cars he wanted to see, and the rest of us followed along.

Typically, he makes a beeline for the high-end luxury or sports cars. They fit nicely into his fantasy world.

So I knew something was up when his beeline was toward the plainer, budget-minded cars and small SUVs. Not just once, but time and again.

Could it be? I wondered. Nah, I countered, he's only 12.

But I mentioned my suspicion to my husband, and we both watched our son more closely as he continued to look at the practical, low-cost vehicles.

Yes indeed - the boy appeared to be car-shopping! Amusing, we thought.

After we returned home, he made another beeline - this time toward his computer. After an hour in seclusion, he emerged and was ready to talk. He confirmed that he had been car-shopping because, after all, he'll be 16 years old in less than four short years!

So, my fantasizer had turned into a practical planner - at least in this instance. He was looking for a new car that would be affordable for him. And the right size: not too small (we have told him we don't want him driving a sardine can on the highway), but not too large (so he won't be in the position of having to chauffeur lots of other kids around). Once he had narrowed down his choices to just a couple that he liked, he came home to check the price with options he would realistically want. After that, he subtracted the savings he currently has from the sticker price, and determined how much money he would need to save in the next three years and ten months. And then he wanted to brainstorm the ways that a 12-year-old could earn money.

Although my husband and I got quite a few chuckles from this somewhat premature and entirely unexpected car-shopping endeavor, I am really proud of my son. Until now, I wasn't sure if he would ever grow up to join us in the real world. (Not that I want him to fully give up his grip on fantasy - I sometimes wish I hadn't give up mine so early in childhood.)

But now I see that when it's something that's important to him, he does have the skills to compare and contrast, analyze, and plan.

Now if I could just get him to do that with his homework...