parenting

First Month In:  scraped knees, off the grid and coyotes howling.

~ luvchoc71 ~ Leave a comment

I cannot say time flies right now; this first month after we moved in really has felt like a full month.

We knew that getting Internet and a land line would present a challenge in this hilly area. After a painful and thorough research, we concluded that Satellite Internet (slow as a donkey, reliable as the weather man and expensive as limes in California) was not what we wanted, which meant settling for DSL technology.

Considering I work from home, this issue was not something to take lightly. The one and only company that services this area is so slammed with orders and all sorts of problems after buying  a big part of Verizon’s telecommunications, that I’ve had to call them around 10 times to schedule, reschedule, confirm and reconfirm our service. Tomorrow is the big day of hooking us up. I am not getting my hopes up until I can actually see my laptop reaching out into the big WWW.

During this first month, I have made my place of work all of these: primarily my (very generous) cousin’s house, but also Mc Donald’s, Starbucks, the City Library, my son’s swim school, my daughter’s Dance studio. Wifi has never been as valuable as this last month. But I am tired of chasing the signals and can’t wait to actually sit at MY desk which has been empty – and very organized- since May 14th.

Being “off the grid” has also meant no Internet for the kids, no You Tube, no Animal Jam, no Xbox Live. As dramatic as it sounded at the beginning, the kids have gotten used to it.  We had the luck of having neighbors close; a family with a boy, my son’s age, who likes biking. So he has been biking up and down our road, more than he has biked during the last 3 years. He has scrapped his knees more than once but has kept at it. He and his newfound friend have discovered a way to make their bikes sound like motorcycles by jamming a flattened water bottle between the frame and the tire. It is hilarious. Even my daughter has joined them in their biking adventures on several occasions. Needless to say, now she wants a bike that looks like a boys’ bike: all black.

I love watching them do things that they had stashed somewhere in the back of their minds: crafts, drawing and even reading.  Of course, every now and then we get the “I am bored”, so they are obligated to get creative or just go watch TV…that, we do have.

Me?  Not having messages constantly coming in from the half a dozen groups I am in, or email from 4 different accounts is actually de-stressing. I don’t find myself checking my phone or checking facts on google when I am in doubt about…anything, you name it. Every time the kids question me about something I am not 100% sure about, I just say:  “ I don’t know”, end of story. And if I do know, there is no chance of my son second guessing me and checking Google to check my facts: sweet.

Another effect of being off the grid: a little bit more conversation. More deep conversation: the last chat I had with my 11 year old son, he asked me…”Mom, you know how there are couples with 2 men, or 2 women? So, how do they make babies?”

After a very clear, age appropriate answer about Sperm banks and surrogate moms, he said, “oh, ok. I wonder how high my cholesterol is…”

Just like that he ended the subject and as easy as eating pie he started with the subject of his own health. So, yes, different conversations for sure. It probably has to do with his age. This business with the tweens and Middle school, I don’t know. It scares me!

The noises in and around the house have also changed quite a bit. We no longer get speeding cars right on our street or street racing at night like before. Or neighbors partying hard just yards away.

The mornings are exceptionally quiet and serene, the air around us feels crisp and chill. I have heard birds that I have never heard before, making sounds I wouldn’t imagine a bird can do. I heard the sound of squirrels too. The sounds I am not crazy about at night: packs of coyotes all over, near and far, always moving. Very distinct, is the howling of the leader, who clearly has a dominant sound. I know we will all get used to it.

On another note, I am actually getting comfortable in the kitchen. After many frustrating moments and several pages on a variety of manuals, I now know how to use the temperature probe in the oven, and I have almost accomplished the level of not burning the scrambled eggs on our cook top. Apparently the BTU’s do matter. Sometimes I feel like my heat resistant spoons are going to melt! Everything with measure, they say.

Even though we are going through the worst heat wave ever since we moved here (117 F today), the rest of the time has been extremely pleasant during the day and chilly at night. Consistently around 5 degrees cooler than down in the valley, where the City is.  So, I still have not been able to put away all my sweaters and light coats; they are hanging right next to my summer clothes. But I have resigned to the fact that it is the way it is in most of California: flip flops during the day, and sometimes boots at night.

One month in and less than 5 boxes left unpacked: not bad at all. We are missing several sets of furniture, which makes the house fells pretty spacious. As we start getting couches and tables, the house will feel fuller and cozier I hope.  Hanging art and photos should help too.

The first week here I was reminded of when we moved into our last home. My dad flew in to help us clean up, unpack and arrange what we had then. I remembered perfectly how we arranged plates, cups, cleaning supplies. He helped scrub floors and toilets, and the countertops too. I was (and still am) very grateful for his help and his company as well.

The day I arranged my plates, cups and containers here, I found myself a bit teary eyed remembering those days. I felt pretty lonely that morning. The kids were in school, my husband at work, and there I was, one of the most exciting weeks of my life, having reached a milestone to remember for many years to come, but all by myself this one time. I missed my Dad very much that day.

Our guest bathroom was designed in every sense to accommodate my wheelchair bound mom. Spacious with a roll in shower and safety grab bars; looking at it made me miss her too. I can’t wait to have her here.

Two weeks after we moved in, my husband mustered up the energy and resolve to install a sound system in the house, which he had previously wired the house for. This was my Christmas present that I had only enjoyed by looking at the half a dozen boxes in the garage.

Ten speakers or so where installed in the ceilings of different rooms, a controller for each room and the central brains of the system were all put in place in 2 days. The evening he tested it out, he used my Ipod (since we don’t have Internet to stream music online), so the songs were all mine.

My husband knows that music is one of my passions, my mood changes dramatically when I have music in the house or in my car. Music takes me places, it makes my brain work in a different way; it’s hard to explain. But I feel empty and lacking when I don’t have music with me. I have noticed that our days start better when I play the right music for the kids while cooking and eating breakfast.

Because my kids are not old enough to buy their own music yet, they have had to listen to mine (and my husbands’). So it is not surprising that my daughter has come to love Erasure, Pet Shop Boys, A-ha, Abba, and Dance/Electronic Music too. She loves dancing, so Music is a big part of her too. At the same time, both the kids have gotten used to Neil Diamond, which our parents used to listen to, so we both like as well. It is like a generational musical transcendence. And I love it.

In our old home, I used to have a Blue Tooth Bose Speaker he gave me as a present, and I would carry it around or play it loud so I could hear it everywhere.  So when he told me about this Christmas present, in times where things where already tight with the construction going on, I was tremendously grateful.

So back to the day he tested the new system, I was getting dressed in my closet, where there is a speaker. Suddenly I heard a piece from the Classical Ballet Coppelia, by Leo Delibes.  I heard the whole piece as I got dressed, then I just had to sit down on the edge of the tub and take it all in.

My first time at a Professional Ballet performance was at age 7. My Dad, lover of Classical and Opera took me one night, and this is the Ballet we saw: Coppelia. I was mesmerized by the graceful movements of the tiny ballerinas, the intensity of the live orchestra, the costumes, the beauty of it all.

So sitting there at the edge of my tub, I started crying uncontrollably. I was happy, extremely happy and overwhelmed.

I realized my husband had gone through back breaking work (climbing into the attic more than twice to find lost cable ends), covered in fiberglass, all itchy and sweaty, just to give me the joy of music.

To top it off, he tested the system with music that takes me back to 1978, that night at the theatre with my Dad.

I came out of the bathroom sobbing of joy. He found me in the hallway walking towards him and gave me a worried and puzzled look.

I hugged him tight and thanked him for all his work. Like the ABBA song says “Thank you for the music…”

Life has been good to me so far, extremely good. Some things we worked for, some we deserve, somethings are pure luck. All together I am grateful and very appreciative of the many joys I have today: my health, my precious family (immediate and extended!) and –always- the music.

More to come…hopefully form my home’s Internet!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Irony of the Hello Kitty Belt.

~ luvchoc71 ~ 4 Comments

Often times I agonize and dwell over the fact that my kids are growing up so fast, too fast. I look deep into their eyes, and for a brief moment I see them as babies holding up their milk bottle while looking back into my eyes; as toddlers inquisitive and curious , their eyes asking questions about the fast paced and loud world  around them.  Then, seconds later, I zoom out of my precious memories and see them today, freckles around their noses, smelling of dirt, sweaty foreheads, big teeth, too big for their little faces.

I am proud to say I have enjoyed each and every moment with them,  growing up, growing smarter, defining those very clear personalities they each have.  Despite the fact that I have never stopped working out of the home, I can say I have been there- so far- every step of the way. That even though I have a ridiculous number of photos in my laptop , with triple online backup, I also have them imprinted in my mind.

But is it also true, I DO want to slow down time, or freeze a moment every now and then, because I know tougher times are coming: Middle School, and before we know it, High School and all that follows-all in a breeze.

My daughter – age 9 now- has been developing all too fast, a sense of sensuality, along with the dreaded Hollywood prototypes with its empty and vain concepts of beauty and female perfection. Who do I blame,? None other than media: music videos, commercials, unnecessarily explicit ads, and sadly, movies. Even animated ones, yes.  This past summer, she came down the stairs one morning ready to go to school – or so she thought- wearing  a T-Shirt that was tied on one side with a hair band, making it look like it was knotted, resulting in an exposed mid-reef. I stared at the whole outfit for a few seconds, debating, struggling on how to approach this situation, which was  not the first one, and most definitely wouldn’t be the last.

How to you tell a 9 year old that exposing her body like that is not acceptable, when she is not yet fully aware of what dirty looks are, about the image she portrays as a girl, about respecting her body. It’s a tough one, at least for me, to make her lose a bit of her innocence and naivety because of how our world is these days, because there are registered predators within blocks of our house, because of the sick and disturbed human nature of some.

Looking at her tiny waist, her half exposed belly (she has a 6-pack already due to her gymnastics!), I observed that she was wearing a Hello Kitty belt, hot pink, metallic, with a Hello Kitty Head as a buckle. Of course!  She is only 9.

I half smiled to myself, and had a little chat with her about appropriate dress code, not only for school, but for her age. Confused a bit, she agreed to take the fake knot off and told me some girls wore T-Shirts like that. She never really understood what age had to do with it.

After this one event, both my husband and I have sent her back to her room  at least half a dozen times to change. One has to stick to it and be consistent, so that is what we are trying to do. However, the “control” somewhat ends there.  Once they are out of the house, other issues come into play that are more of a challenge to have a grip on.

Last week, we all went for an easy hike, together, as a family. These outdoor activities  have turned out to be some the best to spend quality time moments with our kids. There are no phones, no videogames, no dancing and jumping and tumbling. No Noise. Just us, walking, climbing, having a small picnic or snack, talking. Every now and then, we split in pairs for a while. Walking only with 10 yr old son, he asked me how he could get his “crush” to like him. Again, I paused, thought and many, many things came to mind. The very first one:  HOW AWESOME that he is asking me this, not a friend, not even his Dad ( he has always had the girls talks with me).  Next I wondered, isn’t it too soon? But I immediately recalled my first crush, I was probably younger than him. So, to soon? No. Then, a question to myself was: how do I give him advice on being likable to a girl, while at the same time discourage him from thinking too much about girls?

Concluding that I could not control his thoughts anymore that I can control my need for Dark Chocolate, I took his question with an open heart and a smile and so started the chat about girls.

Because I have tried to participate in as many school activities as my job allows me to, I happen to know not only his “crush”, but this adorable girl’s Mom too. Just briefly, during a field trip to one of California’s Missions, I met them both. So I can understand why my son has been secretly admiring this girl for over a year. A year? Yes. My son told me he looked up on the internet how to make a girl like you, and the advice he found was “Let time do its work”. But he said “Mom, I have given time a whole year and nothing happened, so it is time I do something“ . This is how I found out his crush is that old. I was glad the advice he found was all good and clean. God knows he could have found the worst and nastiest advice at the tap of his fingers.

Later, than same day, my daughter , still 9, made a confession too. She was so uncomfortable and embarrassed, she waited until bedtime to talk. The precious time when I tuck her in, lay with her, in her tiny twin size bed (with my butt and one leg hanging off the edge at times),  with lights off to start winding down we chat about the day, about life, about my childhood, about her grandparents, then pray, then I leave. So she chose this moment to tell me that some boys she has been hanging out with at recess, were having inappropriate conversations with her: it had been going on for days and she felt so dirty and guilty so couldn’t hold it in any longer. She provided me with details which made my head numb, she talked and I listed but my mind was going in slow motion, I couldn’t fathom  the whole scene, the conversations that 9 or 10 year old boys were having. What is going on with people? Should I have seen this coming this soon?

Thankfully, over the last weeks of summer, my husband and I already talked to both kids about sex: from  the reproductive system, how it all happens, how babies come to this world, briefly touching upon sexual relations. The focus was more on body changes and how babies are made. It was all very science-focused, a lot of drawings on our kitchen whiteboard (yes, next to the shopping list was a drawing of the female uterus and the menstruation  sequence).

Despite my efforts to use mating and animals and keep it all serious, my kids and I ended up laughing hard because my drawing skills are TERRIBLE to put it lightly, so the penis and scrotum outlines fell into the humorous category. Oh well, some humor actually helped break the nervousness and embarrassment.

Because of this talk (and common sense), my daughter knew that the conversations these boys were trying to have with her, were out of line. I was -again- grateful she came to me and got it off her chest. Her heart was racing the whole time we chatted. After telling her several times she was not  in trouble, she calmed down and went to sleep.

Me ? I was in bed, wide awake, thinking about the day’s events. My son had a 1 year old crush and wanted to be likeable. My daughter was told she is sexy and a boy wants to “do it” with her. Age came to mind. I felt 60 years old that night.  A scary vision of High School came to mind, driving, alcohol, partying, drugs and all the chaos that usually comes with those years.

To top it off, that same afternoon my husband made a ship for the kids to play with, using leftover cardboard from a huge box we had in the garage. The illusion of them playing with it quickly dissipated. Apparently (I wasn’t there) they both went back to their games after briefly acknowledging it.

These are the subtle signs that come bite you (‘cuz it hurts) of how they are growing up fast, and they are no longer our “babies”.

Tired of looking at the soft blue glowing light from my night stand clock, I left my room at 1:30 am directly to where I now sit. I furiously typed an email to the school principal, detailing as much as possible. I (kindly) demanded she talked not only to the boys but to their parents as well.  Only after that, I slept.

I am currently reading a book about a Helicopter mom, (mom’s that hover over their kids and take away their breathing space). I don’t believe I have ever been intrusive or overprotective, otherwise I wouldn’t have the honor of being my kids listening ear and soundboard when they are angry at the world.

However it doesn’t hurt to read about other moms’ mistakes (according to the author, that is why she wrote this novel about helicopter moms). While I promise myself to give them space, freedom of choice, and support when they need us parents there, I also intend to keep being involved -as much as they allow me- in their lives. Being there, is the difference sometimes between  a happy child and a depressed child; between self confidence and feelings of inferiority; between feeling ignored and feeling loved and needed. 

Like the cliche says: Time flies.  So, let’s fly with it instead of watching it pass us by.