Proud To Be An American

What a great day to be an American! The 4th of July holds a special place in the hearts of patriots and brings forth a sense of community and solidarity in people. Having lived in other countries I can say with sincerity that I truly am glad to be an American. I’m not saying anything against other countries or putting them down, not at all. I lived very formative years overseas and have a great fondness and respect for other peoples and cultures. Every place on earth has much to offer and is unique in its own way. And yet, there us something different about the good ‘ole U.S of A. We are a special nation, we stand out in a variety of ways.

I spent Independence Day up at my parents cabin with family. They own a place in a small community just south of Flagstaff, it’s a marvelous getaway for us all! The town holds a parade on the 4th that anyone can take part in. On Monday my boys rode their decorated bikes in the parade for the second time. It’s a wonderfully festive time, full of fun and laughter, good spirits, camaraderie, and a general sense of well being. After the parade we enjoyed a long-lived American traditional meal, grilled hamburgers with all the trimmings and sides! Yum! My mom, a model hostess, had the table decorated with all sorts of red, white and blue cheer.

When our bellies were full and we sat back to enjoy our mountainous surroundings, my mom asked us to share one reason we were thankful to be an American, something we were proud of our country for. Here are a few of the answers given: “Because even though it’s cliché, we really are the land of opportunity. People still seek our shores to take a shot at their dream.” “Because we are a giving, generous country, eager to help others, whether it be our neighbors or someone in a foreign land.” “Because we are free to express ourselves, we can dare to be different or unique, we can question and seek for further, deeper meanings and answers, we can push the limits and break free from the mold, we can dream.” “Because we are a safe nation of refuge for those persecuted.” “Because our founding fathers made the effort to create an unparalleled constitution which is the basis of our greatness.” “Because we respect and honor every generation and both genders.”

My boys, 7 and 5, even joined in with their thoughts. My oldest said he likes his country because here you can pick as many flavors of ice cream you want and can mix them if you wish. He said he learned in school about a boy in a foreign country that was not allowed to mix his flavors of ice cream, there they were only able to choose one flavor. My other son stated he likes his country because he can swim in the pool. These may be considered small potatoes to some, but when compared to many parts of the world, they are indeed luxuries, and I’m proud of my boys for their gratefulness. I’m also thrilled they live in a land where ice cream and swimming pools are a part of their everyday life, as opposed to pain, suffering, lack or violence.

I know our country is not perfect, I know we have plenty of areas to improve in, I know we make mistakes, but overall we do a good job at providing for our citizens. I am proud to be an American. Are you? Why?

Ah Vacation...

Ah vacation, how I love you so….

How is it that merely one week away from the normal daily grind can work wonders in a person’s soul? I swear, I was close to losing my mind for a few months prior to leaving for vacation. A few weeks ago I even wrote about how desperate I was for a break. As a (mostly) stay at home mom (I work part time from home) I never get “time off” from the kids. After over seven years of working the same job day in and day out with very, very little time off I was drowning. I love my kids more than anything, but I hadn’t been getting enough time away from them in order to refresh myself. I was slowly slipping into insanity.

So, when our vacation week finally arrived I was ecstatic. Granted, I was also a bit apprehensive since this vacation was a family one, just our family. No friends, no other extended family members, just myself and my husband and our three kids, the same three kids I needed a break from. However, I was determined to enjoy the time away and release myself from any sort of normal responsibility. My daily life is fiercely regulated by the clock, I’m on a strict schedule that requires me to race through the day in order to remain on time.

I didn’t want any of that. I wanted my brain and my mind to be free, relaxed, calm. I wanted to savor the moment and distance myself from time management efficiency. I wanted to actually enjoy every moment I spent with my kids and not worry about running late or mentally strategizing the rest of my daily tasks while engaging with them. I wanted my kids and my husband to have all of me and I wanted to do so gladly and whole heartedly, not with reservation. In my busy life I have a tendency to have fun and be in the moment but with one eye continuously glancing at the clock. I don’t really know how to fully relax but I wanted to, I needed to. My goal was to shed that restricting mentality and be absolutely free for the entire week.

AND IT WORKED!!!! It was the absolute best medicine, exactly what I needed to expel the stress and tension and then replenish with renewed energy. My week was perfect. All day, every day with my wonderful family, relaxed hours on the beach, playing in the surf, morning bike rides, collecting shells along the sand, evening walks at sunset, fun and meaningful interaction, and lots of healing leisure. No clocks, no cell phone, no Internet (ok, I did check my email once), no itinerary, no expectations, no responsibility, just a genuine enjoyment of every moment of every day. (I did all the planning beforehand so we had details taken care of, giving us the ability to go with the flow).

I feel much better, renewed and refreshed, and packed with magical memories. Now I just have to wait another 355 days till the next time, approximately…

Toddler Translator

My daughter is two and is talking up a storm. She chats to everyone and, as most toddlers do, points out every single object, person and pet she encounters. It’s as though her activities and sights need a continuous verbal relay. I hear about every plane that passes overhead, every dog that walks by, every bird that crosses our lawn, and pretty much every other action taking place. Her new one is “Mama, watch this!” which is followed by some sort of action on her part, usually a tumbling move she picked up from observing her brothers “break dance”. (Her tumbling maneuver, more often than not, consists of her lifting her arms up, straight into the air then dramatically swooshing them down, bending over and kicking her feet all of two inches off the floor. It’s priceless!)

On the whole, I love to hear her talk. I’ve waited for this day for a long time. Once kids begin speaking it makes life, generally speaking, easier. The only problem is, as is the case with beginner talkers, she speaks her own language. By this I mean she doesn’t always pronounce words correctly (sometimes she’s not even close!), making it a challenge to decipher her intention. She is extremely precise and knows exactly what she wants to say, and she says it, only I don’t always understand her. We play this game throughout the day endlessly. I have to go through a list of every single word she could possibly mean and say it out loud until I hit the right one. Now, being her mother and with her all day long I’m usually quite adept at picking the winning word quickly. However, there are instances where we spend a good chunk of time attempting to understand each other.

This morning, for example, she kept saying “Pez! Pez!” I looked all around the room for something that might sound similar to “pez” but couldn’t locate anything. I asked “Birds?... Cars?... Books?... Brush?... Pants?... Bed?...” until I finally hit the jack pot with “Brothers.” Turns out she was inquiring after her two brothers while I was getting her dressed for the day.

My daughter has the habit of just repeating the word (or phrase) over and over and over until I get it. She doesn’t tire, she’ll just repeat it incessantly like a broken record. When she’s not feeling patient and is frustrated with me for taking too long she’ll continue with her repetition but then she’ll throw in a loud “No!” of exasperation in between guesses, scrunch up her face, stiffen her body and then arch her back in protest, as though I am wasting her time and could I please hurry up and get with the program already! Sheesh! (I have no idea where she gets that from, by the way… Ha! I can’t even type those words without laughing!)

I usually make an attempt to exercise my own patience in this situation because I know she’s trying hard to speak to me. I can relate to just how wearisome it is when either people do not understand your words or when you lack the vocabulary to properly express yourself. It can be maddening. Of course I also make a point to encourage her to remain calm and let her know I’m doing the best I can, thank you very much!

However, even with the challenges involved I do really love the learning-to-speak stage. It’s a point where you can see your child grow and develop right before your very eyes, from moment to moment. It’s fascinating! I think at this stage every parent proudly states their child is pure genius for being able to identify, pronounce, express, and relay meaning. It’s a remarkable time in a child’s life. Witnessing such leaps and bounds in mere days more than makes up for the Monopoly-style guessing games and frustrated toddler tantrums.

I'm Calling In Sick

I wish I had a cute story to share, or a funny moment, or an inspiring thought to help you through your own parenthood journey. I wish I could be witty or clever or humorous. I wish, for that matter, I could keep my eyes open…

The last few months have been little more than a blur. Every moment of every day has been full and I have been running full speed ahead with very little recovery time. I’m exhausted. I’m overworked. I’m barely keeping my head above water and my patience with the kids is wearing very, very thin. In short, I need a break!!! (As a side question, how do the kids always know when I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown and choose these moments to pull their worst stunts? Or is it that they normally act this way but I’m better equipped to handle it when I’m not functioning on an empty tank?).

Most days of my life I am perfectly fine. I have my better days and my not-so-great days like everyone, but overall I entertain a good life. These past few months have really thrown me for a loop though and I’m at the point where I need a well deserved vacation. I would settle for a personal day. Heck, I’ll even call in sick! Oh wait, I can’t. I don’t have any of these options. I don’t even get weekends as a respite from my full time job. I’m on duty, or at least on call, twenty four hours a day, seven gosh, darn days of the week. It’s too much. I can’t perform my duties properly if I’m never afforded a break.

Now, before you think this is a boo-hoo, poor me story, let me assure you it is not. It is an honest, vulnerable sharing of my heart. And I choose to share this today because I know there are many that can relate. We’ve all had times of overwhelm, of too much on our plate, times we feel the insanity creeping in. Life can be too much sometimes even if no catastrophe has occurred. The activities that consume my day are all things I like and want to do (except for the house cleaning!). I volunteered to work two side jobs and to coach, and all the running around for sports, school events, appointments, etc is all a part of caring for the kids full time. I asked for all of this and normally I love it all but recently they have just overtaken my life. Now I am saying, “Whoa there, Nelly! I need a break! Where do I punch out? Who approves my vacation time? When is my day off?” And the sad, but very real answer is, “Sorry, dude, no break for you.”

Usually I’m not this crazy-busy and I do get a few minutes here, an hour there to do something of leisure, or to relax and remove myself from the kids. Lately, however, any break from the kids I get is occupied with a plethora of other time-sensitive duties that must be tended to, leaving me about an hour at night of free time. The only problem is by this time I am very much brain dead and physically worn out.

So I’m not really sure the point of this entry, but this is what has been on my mind and heart lately. If nothing else, when you read this you’ll know you’re not the only person completely drained and overworked. We all need breaks and moments of relaxation in order to recover. I know this. Recovery is an essential part of life, without it we’ll burn out entirely. We must rest and recover in order to adequately perform again. Athletes know the importance of recovery. Imagine if they trained and trained and trained and never allowed their muscles to rest? They sure wouldn’t last very long. The same concept applies to the rest of us.

My only problem is that I don’t know how to rest and recover right now….. There is no temporary replacement lined up for my position of Mommy. Therefore I must persist until the craziness subsides. I hope I make it! In the meantime I heavily rely on my two (maybe three?) glasses of red wine on Saturday nights… This is my own blessed heaven and refuge for now. I know it’s not ideal but this truly is my reprieve from reality for the time being. Soon enough I’ll be able to recover properly… I must have hope!

Show Me The Money

After a long day of dealing with the kids yesterday I was getting close to my wits end. My daughter has hit the terrible two’s with both feet running. She keeps me on my toes as far as setting and enforcing limits as well as being a good example of the type of behavior I do want. The boys are simultaneously deep in training for the debate team and the wrestling team. By this I mean they are constantly fighting with each other, both physically and verbally. The mayhem takes its toll daily. By the time my husband returns from work I’m usually ready to retire and in need of some major back up.

In the middle of getting dinner ready last night I was pouring out my woes to my husband, filling him in on the day’s upheaval. I finished by declaring “I wish we lived in one of those countries where stay at home parents are paid. I mean I work so hard every day without any compensation. I’m a teacher, a life coach, a doctor, a personal chef, a chauffeur, a housekeeper, a cheerleader, a judge and a maintenance worker. Sheesh!”

As I spoke I released some of the tension I carried and felt better. I just needed to vent and get a little sympathy from another adult. The evening wore on and I never gave my conversation a second thought. But just before he went to bed, my oldest son, who is seven, came up to me ever so slightly sheepishly and extended his fist to me. It was full of coins. He said, “Mama, this is for you because you are such a good mom to us.”

He had overheard my earlier complaining and after contemplating his thoughts on the matter he decided to pay me for my work, from his own piggy bank. My heart melted. I felt so terribly guilty by my unnecessary behavior and yet so full of love for my thoughtful son. His handful of pennies and dimes was more than sufficient payment for all my years of hard labor. Of course, he needn’t pay me any amount of money at all, that wasn’t even really the point of my complaints, but his gesture of gratitude was all I needed to keep me going. A simple thank you or a hug of appreciation from my children is worth more to me than bags of gold for my work as a mother.

I am holding on to those pennies and dimes though! You never know when they’ll come in handy.

Precious Moments

Some of my most treasured moments as a mother are the simple ones. It doesn’t require bells and whistles to create precious memories with your children. In fact, the easy, seemingly mundane activities can have a more influential impact on your child as a person as well as strengthen your relationship with them. Here are a few examples of recent pastimes I’ve enjoyed with my children that stand out as special and memorable.

Last week my two younger children and myself embarked on a leisurely bike ride, something we do regularly. At the halfway mark we made a pit stop at a park in order to stretch our legs and play on the swings. The day was perfect, mid 80s, clear blue skies with a gentle, cooling breeze. We ended up playing a game of Duck, Duck, Goose in the shade, just the three of us, so obviously it was not a “real” game, just a fun diversion. My son, whenever he was “it”, would tag one of us as Goose and then tear across the park at full speed, not even attempting to complete the circle, as the game intends. My daughter and I got some nice sprints in while chasing him. When my daughter was “it” she not only took full pleasure in smacking us as hard as she could on the head as she called out either “uck” or “oose”, but when she chose a Goose, she ran around in circles until she fell from dizziness or from tripping over her own feet, heedless of whether or not she was tagged or even circling about us correctly. I’m usually a stickler for rules, but this day we played according to our own made-up-on-the-spot rules. I laughed so hard and my heart was full of joy watching my children in complete bliss absorbed as they were in our simple, messed up game of Duck, Duck, Goose.

My oldest, seven, true to his firstborn tendencies, is always looking out for his two younger siblings, as well as myself and his dad. He’s a pretty caring kid. He earns pretend money at school for turning in homework and good behavior which he is then able to use to buy items from the class store. Without fail he brings something home for his brother and his sister every week. It melts my heart. He is more excited about what he shares with them than with what he gets for himself. He takes great pains in selecting items he thinks they will appreciate and explains his picks to me before passing them on. A couple weeks ago he also gave me a dollar from his own piggy bank telling me as he handed over the bill, “Mama, you get so many things for me I want you to get something for yourself now. Here’s some money. Go get something nice.” I almost cried.

My daughter watches me get ready every morning. She has my routine down cold. She turns on the hair dryer for me, she hands me the hair clips I use at the appropriate times as I dry my hair in sections, then she gets my make-up out of the bag for me in the order I apply it. She does all of this without me asking or prompting! She anticipates my next need and supplies it. If I ever forget and reach for an item on my own she flips out and scolds me. It is adorable.

My middle child is expressive and impulsive. If he likes something he exclaims it with gusto. I often hear him saying things like, “What a beautiful day it is today!” and “Mama, I love you so much!” or “This is the bestest dinner I’ve ever had!” His simple, yet completely sincere words brighten my day every time.

I help my oldest son with his homework and reading every day. Although homework has never been a point of interest for me, I have come to cherish this daily time with him. It’s just the two of us working on his knowledge and skills. Witnessing him learn and progress is thrilling and brings me much pride in his accomplishments and improvements. I can see his wheels turning as he muddles over a math problem and I beam with joy as he seemingly effortlessly reads advanced books. What a miracle it is to observe my child growing in all facets of life day by day.

On Top Of The World

"I’m on the top of the world, looking down on creation…"

Wow, there is nothing that compares to the feeling of being hurled through the sky towards earth. It is almost indescribable, but I will attempt to accurately share what the skydiving experience was like for me (I just went this past weekend!).

Firstly, my nerves never ceased. I was nervous for several weeks leading up to the jump as well as throughout the actual jump itself! The nerves were a constant companion. However, they did not consume me. I worked hard at keeping them at bay and relaxing myself. I made the decision that I was going to enjoy myself and have fun with the whole adventure, despite my anxieties.

A few days before the jump I began to mentally prepare myself. I envisioned falling through the sky with a smile on my face. I tried to feel the wind against my body and see the world grow larger before my eyes as I floated closer and closer to the ground. My heart would race and I’d stifle a small panic during these mental images, but I continued with slow, deep breaths to remain as calm as possible.

The night before my big leap of faith (trust me it is definitely that!) I ran through three possible scenarios in my head, beginning with me walking towards the plane and ending with me landing on solid ground. The first scenario I imagined the worst: my parachute failed to open and I died. I let myself feel the feelings of knowing I was going to die and allowed those last thoughts to float through my head. When I finished I had tears in my eyes. I moved on to scenario two. This is where my parachute opens and it all goes off without a hitch but I was so frightened I didn’t allow myself to enjoy anything. I was withdrawn and somber, face drawn tight with worry. I landed with relief but also with a sense of having lost out on something spectacular. I then began scenario three in which I embraced the day and went for it full steam ahead, determined to enjoy and make the most of this gift. I was nervous to be sure, but excited and ready as well. This scenario, out of all three, felt the best within me. This third visualization was the most comfortable one, it just felt right.

Therefore I made the simple conclusion that this is how I was going to face the day. I wasn’t going to deny or suppress my nerves, I couldn’t get rid of them, but I wasn’t going to let them dictate either. I would focus on my strength, my excitement, my anticipation and go for it!

In the morning when I awoke I inserted earphones and listened to a short, calming meditation all the while invoking feelings of peace, focus, and anticipation for the excitement that lay ahead. I listened to it once more just before getting in the car in an attempt to focus my thoughts and set a clear intention for what lay ahead.

My method worked! I was nervous as all hell but I did it with a huge smile on my face. I even have video to prove it! I alternated between screaming and laughing all the way down. Well, in the beginning it was mostly just screaming. That free fall is insane! It was so surreal, I couldn’t believe I was actually falling through the sky without any sort of container or vehicle. It was just me, Mark the instructor, and the parachute, a tiny dot in the vast blueness, almost impossible to locate. I was later told they knew where I was because of all the screaming but they couldn’t see me till I dropped a few thousand feet. A massive rush of adrenalin hit me hard, compelling me to yell over and over, “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” Actually it was more like, “Ahhhhhh!!!!! Oh my gosh! Ahhhhhh!!!!! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Ahhhhhh!!!!!!” We were even spinning round and round like a top during the free fall. Mark raised one hand and we spun to the right. I screamed even louder. He stabilized us for a split second then raised his other hand and we flew to the left, the earth speedily circling below me. My brain was telling me it was madness, my heart was jumping for joy with pure exhilaration.

Seconds later (it felt like an eternity) Mark pulled the chute and I was jerked upright. This initiated our peaceful, graceful descent. I felt weightless, like a feather, gently drifting down, down. I tugged on a rope and we swung around to the right again, spinning and spinning like the teacups, only it was just me, I was free in the air, flying, floating, gliding. Again a powerful sense of surrealness enveloped me. Was this really happening? It was dreamlike, but not hazy or distant as dreams can sometimes be, it was jolting, it was electrifying, it was energizing. I was still shaken with fright but awed by my impossible reality. This is where the laughs came in (alternating with the screams). Laughs of amazement, of joy, of delight, of exhilaration, of disbelief.

I should note that during my descent I intentionally and forcefully expunged all thoughts of doom and disaster from my head. If any sort of negative thought began to form I immediately shut it out and replaced it with one of excitement, exhilaration or joy. I was determined to permit only good thoughts to flow. This was key. If I hadn’t done this I would have panicked for sure.

When my feet finally touched the graveled ground I could barely contain myself. I felt like I had conquered the world! It was incredible! The feeling of astonishment at what I had accomplished poured through my core, mixed with pride, joy, satisfaction, exuberance, and appreciation all powered by a huge sense of relief that I had made it safely. I was thrilled to be alive, I was thrilled to embrace my children as they ran to greet me, and I was thrilled by the extreme experience. My body shook with emotion and adrenalin, as though I had worked out hard for an hour, drank five cups of coffee and then learned that I won the lottery. I was one happy girl! What an incredible experience!