Dear Ms. Moilanen,
I read your recent piece on your thoughts about kids who have food allergies. Well, actually your beef was with the parents of kids with food allergies. According to you, we need to all just relax and let our kids eat things they're allergic to in order to build their immunity. Apparently you basically cured your son's egg allergy by feeding him egg every few weeks until he simply got over it.
It's truly surprising that I had never heard of the "feed-your-kids-things-that-make-them-sick" theory of dealing with food allergies. It's a miracle! You're amazing! You must have learned an incredible amount in all of your medical classes. Um, what? You're not a doctor? Wow. I certainly didn't see that coming. (Can you sense my sarcasm, Ms. Moilanen?)
You seem to sneer at the parents who say their children have food allergies. Yep, all of us parents who have food-allergic kids are making it up for attention. It's really fun to scour the aisles of grocery stores looking for food substitutes that actually still taste like food. It's fulfilling to spend an insane amount of money on rice milk, vegan cheese, soy nut butter, non-dairy chocolate chips, tofu, and flaxseed. Yes, we enjoy going out to restaurants knowing that our kid will be lucky to get a plain hot dog, no bun, and maybe some canned fruit.
I haven't even gotten to the best part of being the parent of a food-allergic child. You were annoyed that your son didn't get to celebrate his birthday with cupcakes and had to simply settle for soy ice cream? Poor precious snowflake. No, strike that. Your kid was probably pretty happy to have any sort of ice cream. You are obviously the one who felt that your son's birthday celebration was somehow deficient: poor YOU. When other kids in your son's school celebrate birthdays, does he get to eat the treats brought into school? I assume he does and he tells you all about the treats when he gets home from school. You're lucky. You're so incredibly lucky.
I don't always know when there are birthday celebrations at my son's preschool. When I am aware, I send a special dairy-free, egg-free cupcake so that my son can have a treat like everyone else. Then again, if the birthday treat isn't a cupcake, he's left out. When I don't know about the birthday celebration, my four-year old kid ends up with a cereal bar. Everyone knows that nothing says party down like a whole grain cereal bar!!! I can always tell when Dallas has been left out of a treat by the way he walks to the car when I pick him up after school. His gait is slow and his eyes don't leave the ground. He tries to be brave and nonchalant when I ask about his day, but inevitably, a few tears leak out because he didn't get a cookie or brownie like all of his other friends. In those moments, I feel like a failure. My heart rips apart a little, and I blink back tears so he doesn't know how upset I am at the slight.
I'm sorry that your son didn't get to eat chocolate cupcakes at school on his birthday, Ms. Moilanen, but don't you dare suggest that those of us with food-allergic kids need to just relax so your son can eat whatever he wants. My son may have to carry epinephrine with him for the rest of his life: that's not an exaggeration and it's not a joke. Maybe you think that "only" 9,500 hospitalizations due to children's severe food allergies isn't that big of a deal, but I guarantee that being hospitalized was a huge deal to the parents of those 9,500 kids. I don't bake vegan cakes and wrap up special food to take to birthday parties just because I'm uptight. I do what I do because my son has serious food allergies, and there's no denying it.
And don't feel sorry for that little girl who was eating graham crackers: you should feel proud that she has a parent or parents and a teacher watching out for her, keeping her safe. I'm thankful that girl will get to skip a visit to the ER because another child's mom thought she knew better.
I hope you have learned your lesson about going after parents with food-allergic kids. We're a tough bunch, and we will not back down. Just thought you should know.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Small acts
Like everyone, I was horrified and saddened by the events that occurred at the Boston Marathon last week. How anyone could be in such a dark place to want to hurt innocent people, complete strangers, is beyond anything I can comprehend. However, we often see after a tragedy occurs, people seemed to come together to help the victims, pray for everyone involved, or show whatever sympathy they could. People posted pictures supporting Boston on Facebook and quotes from Mr. Rogers about how there are always good people helping others, even in times of pain and sorrow. But even as the news was still unfolding, even before the second suspect was caught, I wondered, as I always do, how long our solidarity would last.
I think people, for the most part, have short memories. I don't mean that anyone is going to actually forget what happened in Boston or Hurricane Katrina or September 11, 2001: those catastrophes will live on in our hearts forever. After each terrible experience, we promise to be kinder, gentler, friendlier, and love each other more. But I don't think it ever lasts. We become immersed in the tragedies at first, but then real life slowly creeps in. Children need to be fed, bills need to be paid, and we begin to live again as we did before "it" happened.
What if we didn't? What if we continued to live our days with the kindness and love that we swore we would show to the world? I don't know if that would solve anything or change anything. I have no idea if that would make more people reconsider buying a gun or making a bomb or driving drunk. Day to day, though, it might make a immeasurable difference, even to one person. And as the domino effect goes, the love that person feels would be passed on to someone else.
So, I challenge you all. Try to do something kind for someone every day. Start with one day, then two, then a week, and then a month. Pretty soon, perhaps it will become habit and just a part of your daily routine, like brushing your teeth or cooking dinner. Kindness doesn't have to cost any money. Smile at a stranger on the street. Really listen to your children when they tell you a story. Put down your smart phones and live in the moment. Donate things you don't need anymore. Take a second to look the cashier in the eye at the grocery store. Open the door for someone. Help your neighbor with yard work. Say thank you to someone and really mean it.
I think life is too short to live in fear and forget to appreciate all of the wonder around us. There is SO much good in the world, and that good could be increased ten-fold if each of us would take a little time every day to sprinkle some kindness around. Help someone else, and help yourself.
I think people, for the most part, have short memories. I don't mean that anyone is going to actually forget what happened in Boston or Hurricane Katrina or September 11, 2001: those catastrophes will live on in our hearts forever. After each terrible experience, we promise to be kinder, gentler, friendlier, and love each other more. But I don't think it ever lasts. We become immersed in the tragedies at first, but then real life slowly creeps in. Children need to be fed, bills need to be paid, and we begin to live again as we did before "it" happened.
What if we didn't? What if we continued to live our days with the kindness and love that we swore we would show to the world? I don't know if that would solve anything or change anything. I have no idea if that would make more people reconsider buying a gun or making a bomb or driving drunk. Day to day, though, it might make a immeasurable difference, even to one person. And as the domino effect goes, the love that person feels would be passed on to someone else.
So, I challenge you all. Try to do something kind for someone every day. Start with one day, then two, then a week, and then a month. Pretty soon, perhaps it will become habit and just a part of your daily routine, like brushing your teeth or cooking dinner. Kindness doesn't have to cost any money. Smile at a stranger on the street. Really listen to your children when they tell you a story. Put down your smart phones and live in the moment. Donate things you don't need anymore. Take a second to look the cashier in the eye at the grocery store. Open the door for someone. Help your neighbor with yard work. Say thank you to someone and really mean it.
I think life is too short to live in fear and forget to appreciate all of the wonder around us. There is SO much good in the world, and that good could be increased ten-fold if each of us would take a little time every day to sprinkle some kindness around. Help someone else, and help yourself.
When we feel love and kindness toward others, it not only makes others feel loved and cared for, but it helps us also to develop inner happiness and peace.
The 14th Dalai Lama (1935)
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Kindergarten rules
I have been out of the blogosphere realm for a while because I find myself too weary to write. Trevor says no one wants to read about how exhausted I am from the hypothyroidism issues, so I won't bore you with that information. :)
Lately I have been doing a lot of blog-reading and site-reading instead of writing, and I have noticed a disturbing trend. There is so much bashing going on out there in Ye Olde Interwebs, and for the life of me, I cannot figure out why. The most disturbing thing is all of the women bashing other women. Listen, I know that we all think our way is the best whether it's in reference to child-rearing, working, dating, marriage, or even fashion. We're all entitled to our opinions, and we should be willing to back them up if we're going to put them out there for the world to see. The only issue I have is when the delivery is downright mean.
Women in particular tend to be extremely hard on other women for the choices they make. Breastfeeding is the only way to feed a child; bottle feeding gives women the freedom they richly deserve. Women should stay at home if they really love their children; women should go to work to show their children that women can have it all. Attachment parenting is the only way to raise successful children; giving children freedom is the only way to raise successful children. Keeping kids busy with multiple activities is the only way to teach responsibility; too many extra-curriculars doesn't allow kids to just be kids. Women need nights out with friends to save their sanity from time to time; women who do girls' nights out are selfish. When does it end? I hate, hate, HATE the term "Mommy Wars" but that's exactly what seems to be the case. Women are at war with each other, and that can't be good for our children or our society as a whole.
Marissa Mayer, the president and CEO of Yahoo!, has been in the news for her 2 week maternity leave and her new edict that no Yahoo! employes will be allowed to work from home. I have read plenty of well-balanced articles about the new policy, but I have read just as many comments that attack Mayer personally. While I may or may not agree with Mayer's decisions, the key is that they are HER decisions. What works for her family may not work for my family, and that's okay. She would probably be horrified that I am a Midwest soccer mom with no apparent goals or dreams. But my life, my fantastic life, works for me; that's all that really matters.
My dream is to have a world, a real life world and an electronic world, where we can offer each other just a little more kindness. Be nice. Play fair. If you hurt someone, apologize and mean it. Have your own views and opinions, but express them in a positive way. We don't need to be wishy-washy doormats, but we also don't have to be know-it-all jerks, you know? It's incredibly easy to go into attack mode on the Internet because we're all as anonymous as we want to be in cyberspace. I think what everyone forgets is that we are real people behind our screen names, and the things people say can hurt. I'm reminded of a quote from When Harry Met Sally when Meg Ryan's character is trying to teach Billy Crystal's character some manners: "Harry, you're going to have to try and find a way of not expressing every feeling that you have, every moment that you have them." Perhaps we should all bite our tongues a little more often and see what happens. We're all doing the best we can with what we have an any given moment, and no one needs to be judged for that.
Lately I have been doing a lot of blog-reading and site-reading instead of writing, and I have noticed a disturbing trend. There is so much bashing going on out there in Ye Olde Interwebs, and for the life of me, I cannot figure out why. The most disturbing thing is all of the women bashing other women. Listen, I know that we all think our way is the best whether it's in reference to child-rearing, working, dating, marriage, or even fashion. We're all entitled to our opinions, and we should be willing to back them up if we're going to put them out there for the world to see. The only issue I have is when the delivery is downright mean.
Women in particular tend to be extremely hard on other women for the choices they make. Breastfeeding is the only way to feed a child; bottle feeding gives women the freedom they richly deserve. Women should stay at home if they really love their children; women should go to work to show their children that women can have it all. Attachment parenting is the only way to raise successful children; giving children freedom is the only way to raise successful children. Keeping kids busy with multiple activities is the only way to teach responsibility; too many extra-curriculars doesn't allow kids to just be kids. Women need nights out with friends to save their sanity from time to time; women who do girls' nights out are selfish. When does it end? I hate, hate, HATE the term "Mommy Wars" but that's exactly what seems to be the case. Women are at war with each other, and that can't be good for our children or our society as a whole.
Marissa Mayer, the president and CEO of Yahoo!, has been in the news for her 2 week maternity leave and her new edict that no Yahoo! employes will be allowed to work from home. I have read plenty of well-balanced articles about the new policy, but I have read just as many comments that attack Mayer personally. While I may or may not agree with Mayer's decisions, the key is that they are HER decisions. What works for her family may not work for my family, and that's okay. She would probably be horrified that I am a Midwest soccer mom with no apparent goals or dreams. But my life, my fantastic life, works for me; that's all that really matters.
My dream is to have a world, a real life world and an electronic world, where we can offer each other just a little more kindness. Be nice. Play fair. If you hurt someone, apologize and mean it. Have your own views and opinions, but express them in a positive way. We don't need to be wishy-washy doormats, but we also don't have to be know-it-all jerks, you know? It's incredibly easy to go into attack mode on the Internet because we're all as anonymous as we want to be in cyberspace. I think what everyone forgets is that we are real people behind our screen names, and the things people say can hurt. I'm reminded of a quote from When Harry Met Sally when Meg Ryan's character is trying to teach Billy Crystal's character some manners: "Harry, you're going to have to try and find a way of not expressing every feeling that you have, every moment that you have them." Perhaps we should all bite our tongues a little more often and see what happens. We're all doing the best we can with what we have an any given moment, and no one needs to be judged for that.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
2,190 days
My dear Lottie,
Today you are six years old. I have no idea how that happened because I'm fairly certain that you were a baby only yesterday.
So much has happened in your fifth year, the biggest of which is that you are a Kindergartner. Big kid school at last! If anyone asks you if you like school, you always answer that you don't, but I know that you do. You're crazy about your teacher, Miss J, who must have the patience of a saint. And when I have seen her around you, I know the feeling is mutual. You're making great strides at school with your reading and writing. I'm not sure sometimes how interested you are in perfecting your writing: when you're not into doing something, you are not going to do it no matter what. Focus has never been your thing, but maybe you just haven't found something that deserves your total concentration just yet. The day you came home from school and told me you had been on orange (the best behavior color) was a wonderful day. You were so proud of yourself, and that made my heart almost burst with joy. I love seeing you so confident and happy.
One thing that I'm so thrilled with is your capacity for kindness. On Thanksgiving morning, you and Dallas were watching the Macy's parade on TV while Daddy and I cooked. You came upstairs sobbing like your heart was broken and told us you had seen a sad commercial about animals in cages. (Damn you, ASPCA and your Sarah McLachlan-singing commercials!) You couldn't stand the thought of innocent animals being locked up or mistreated, and you begged us to "click online" to save some of them. You have an enormous heart in that little body. You're also kind, most of the time, to Dallas. You have your skirmishes and fights, but at the end of the day, you love him like only a sister can love a brother. I know that as you two continue to grow, you'll be each other's confidants and constants.
People always comment on your crazy energy. Why walk when you can run, dance, sashay, tumble, skip, gallop, or dance? You talk a million miles an hour every minute of the day no matter the subject matter. You sing, you sass, you argue, you cry, you stomp, you slam doors, you laugh, you yell, you guffaw, and you wiggle. You do everything full-tilt boogie. Honestly, it makes me nuts but I hope with all my heart that you don't ever change too much. Part of what makes you unique is your sparkling spirit, and I never want anyone to take that away from you: not school, not your friends, and especially not Daddy and me.
In the last few months, you have been testing your limits and pushing us as far as you can. When you get in trouble, you cry and worry that we don't love you anymore. No matter how many times I assure you that we will ALWAYS love you, you still seem to have a doubt in your mind. Know this, my girl. No one will ever love you as fiercely or intensely as I do. You are my firstborn, my mini-me. You are one of only two people in the whole world who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside, and that means we will always be connected, no matter what you do. I may not always like what you do or the choices you make, but I will love you every minute of my life. You're not a baby anymore, but you'll always be my baby.
*I love the way you say "chech mark" when you mean "check mark."
*I love the way you laugh.
*I love your wacky sense of humor.
*I love the way that you love people with your whole heart; there's no halfway for you.
*I love when you bring me a book to read to you and cuddle up next to me.
*I love the way you act out what is happening in whatever book we happen to be reading.
*I love the way you sing to yourself when you think no one is listening.
*I love the way you are convinced that you're a grown-up.
*I love that you are fearless.
*I love that "what if" is your favorite question.
*I love playing beauty shop with you even when I end up looking like Mimi from The Drew Carey Show.
*I love that you see the beauty in everyday things and events.
*I love that you give Daddy a doll to take to Lexington when he travels so he won't be lonely.
*I love that you told me that you will either grow up to knock down unsafe buildings or be a gymnast.
*I love that you love to play outside and explore.
*I love that you like to eat sandwiches for breakfast.
*I love that you can belt out a Katy Perry song but still can't sleep without your Lamby.
*I love that you are who you are and you own it.
*I love you.
Happy sixth birthday, baby. I hope all your dreams come true.
Love,
Mommy
Today you are six years old. I have no idea how that happened because I'm fairly certain that you were a baby only yesterday.
One thing that I'm so thrilled with is your capacity for kindness. On Thanksgiving morning, you and Dallas were watching the Macy's parade on TV while Daddy and I cooked. You came upstairs sobbing like your heart was broken and told us you had seen a sad commercial about animals in cages. (Damn you, ASPCA and your Sarah McLachlan-singing commercials!) You couldn't stand the thought of innocent animals being locked up or mistreated, and you begged us to "click online" to save some of them. You have an enormous heart in that little body. You're also kind, most of the time, to Dallas. You have your skirmishes and fights, but at the end of the day, you love him like only a sister can love a brother. I know that as you two continue to grow, you'll be each other's confidants and constants.
People always comment on your crazy energy. Why walk when you can run, dance, sashay, tumble, skip, gallop, or dance? You talk a million miles an hour every minute of the day no matter the subject matter. You sing, you sass, you argue, you cry, you stomp, you slam doors, you laugh, you yell, you guffaw, and you wiggle. You do everything full-tilt boogie. Honestly, it makes me nuts but I hope with all my heart that you don't ever change too much. Part of what makes you unique is your sparkling spirit, and I never want anyone to take that away from you: not school, not your friends, and especially not Daddy and me.
In the last few months, you have been testing your limits and pushing us as far as you can. When you get in trouble, you cry and worry that we don't love you anymore. No matter how many times I assure you that we will ALWAYS love you, you still seem to have a doubt in your mind. Know this, my girl. No one will ever love you as fiercely or intensely as I do. You are my firstborn, my mini-me. You are one of only two people in the whole world who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside, and that means we will always be connected, no matter what you do. I may not always like what you do or the choices you make, but I will love you every minute of my life. You're not a baby anymore, but you'll always be my baby.
*I love the way you say "chech mark" when you mean "check mark."
*I love the way you laugh.
*I love your wacky sense of humor.
*I love the way that you love people with your whole heart; there's no halfway for you.
*I love when you bring me a book to read to you and cuddle up next to me.
*I love the way you act out what is happening in whatever book we happen to be reading.
*I love the way you sing to yourself when you think no one is listening.
*I love the way you are convinced that you're a grown-up.
*I love that you are fearless.
*I love that "what if" is your favorite question.
*I love playing beauty shop with you even when I end up looking like Mimi from The Drew Carey Show.
*I love that you see the beauty in everyday things and events.
*I love that you give Daddy a doll to take to Lexington when he travels so he won't be lonely.
*I love that you told me that you will either grow up to knock down unsafe buildings or be a gymnast.
*I love that you love to play outside and explore.
*I love that you like to eat sandwiches for breakfast.
*I love that you can belt out a Katy Perry song but still can't sleep without your Lamby.
*I love that you are who you are and you own it.
*I love you.
Happy sixth birthday, baby. I hope all your dreams come true.
Love,
Mommy
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
What a year for a new year
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| Credit: bdbcommunication.com |
So it's goodbye to 2012 and hello to 2013. 2012 was an interesting year, full of many ups and downs: Two surgeries for me to deal with the pesky cancer, The Move, and everything in between. It wasn't a bad year at all, I don't think. It was a busy year, and I hope that 2013 brings a lot less drama.
I'm not big into making resolutions for the new year because I know I'll never stick with them. But this year may be different. Since December 14, I haven't been able to get the families of Newtown, Connecticut, out of my head. I don't know how they are dealing with the terrible loss of so many members of their community, so many children. How have the parents and loved ones of those lost been able to get through the holiday season? How do they get through their daily lives or even an hour? Trevor says I tend to obsess over things that scare me, but as a mother of a 4- and 5-year old, I don't know how to stop thinking about it.
In 2013, my resolution is to try to be more mindful of how I interact with my family. I want to really listen when they speak and not be distracted by the loooong to-do list that always rattles around in my brain. I think with so much going on in everyone's lives and all the technology that surrounds us at every waking moment, we're forgetting how to slow down and truly live in the moment with the people we love. Someday, my kids aren't going to remember how many things I accomplished in any given day or how clean their rooms were. They're going to remember curling up on the couch to read a book or playing beauty salon at the kitchen table. They'll remember when I walked away from the huge pile of laundry to be a villainess who tries to conquer Spiderman and Firestar. I'm not saying that the kids will never be sent to their rooms or reprimanded in any way or spoiled rotten. But what I want is to raise them to be kind, generous, loving, and forgiving people because that is the best way, the only way, I know how to honor those whose lives were cut short. And maybe, just maybe, they will usher in a new generation of adults whose lived are never touched by senseless tragedies and violence. Maybe.
"What a Year for a New Year" by Dan Wilson
- Nancy Lanza, Rachel D'Avino,
- Dawn Hochsprung, Anne Marie Murphy, Lauren Rousseau, Mary Sherlach, Victoria Leigh Soto
- Charlotte Bacon, 6
- Daniel Barden, 7
- Olivia Engel, 6
- Josephine Gay, 7
- Dylan Hockley, 6
- Madeleine Hsu, 6
- Catherine Hubbard, 6
- Chase Kowalski, 7
- Jesse Lewis, 6
- Ana Marquez-Greene, 6
- James Mattioli, 6
- Grace McDonnell, 7
- Emilie Parker, 6
- Jack Pinto, 6
- Noah Pozner, 6
- Caroline Previdi, 6
- Jessica Rekos, 6
- Avielle Richman, 6
- Benjamin Wheeler, 6
- Allison Wyatt, 6
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Just go with it
There are times in my life when I have epiphanies: crystal clear moments of seeing who I really am or what is truly important in life. I recently had a big one.
Last night, we experienced the wonder of preschool celebrations: the holiday singalong. Dozens of preschoolers dressed in their holiday finest, singing Christmas songs on a stage in front families loaded down by cameras, video cameras, and cell phones. All of the kids were beyond adorable: smiling on the stage, waving to their parents, jingling their bells...all except one. Dallas. Yep, my kid didn't want to go on stage. Not one bit. No way, no how. I honestly didn't mind, or I didn't think that I minded.
I was actually pretty happy that he was feeling some stage-fright as soon as we arrived at the theater. Little boys were in ties, Christmas sweaters, and khakis while girls were sparkly in holiday dresses with glittering tights and fancy shoes. Dallas was in gray sweatpants, a shirt in an entirely different shade of gray, a blue hoodie emblazoned with a skull, and his favorite Spider-Man gym shoes. Needless to say, I was a touch mortified that I hadn't made him get gussied up before we left the house.
His teacher convinced him to sit in the front row so he could join in the singing and jingle-belling with the rest of his classmates. He sat beside me with his hood over his head Unabomber-style and happily sang the songs from his seat while the rest of the class sang on stage. I couldn't seem to shake the tense feeling I had, though, about why he wouldn't just suck it up and go do what he was supposed to do. I didn't want the other parents to judge me on his behavior. Serious selfishness, right? I did my best to mask my tension from him because I didn't want him to sense that I was embarrassed by his choice. I was embarrassed for me, sure. But I also didn't want him to stand out and be...different.
About halfway through the program, the kids stood up to do the "Reindeer Pokey." For those of you not in the know, you put your antlers in, you put your antlers out. You put your antlers in, and you shake 'em all about it. And, really, that's what it's all about. I noticed Dallas slowly scooting out of his chair, and I told him he could go up on stage if he felt like it. He smiled at me and climbed up on the stage. There he stood in the front of the pack, hood up, looking slightly rumpled, and danced his little booty off.
And in that moment, watching him on the stage, every bit of embarrassment or tension I felt melted completely away. This kid was having a ball, and he didn't care one bit what anyone else, on stage or in the audience, thought about him or what he was doing. For a second, I could see him as a teenage boy and a young man, just doing his thing, living his life, and being happy. I ceased caring if other parents were wondering what the hell this kid was doing or why he was doing it. I truly and deeply lived in that sweet moment, and I felt all the joy I imagine Dallas was feeling.
As soon as the song was over, he sat back down beside me and stayed there until the final two songs when he decided to finish on the stage with his friends. After the last song, the teachers invited the students to take a bow for the audience. Dallas's bow was so big, so proud, and so elaborate that he almost fell over. I was so proud of him for knowing exactly what he wanted to do and for having the courage to do it his way. Quite frankly, I'm in awe of how he lives his life with such honesty. I was proud of myself for letting go of what I thought I was supposed to be thinking or feeling. Dallas may not march to the same drum-beat as everyone else, but I love whatever sound he chooses to hear.
Last night, we experienced the wonder of preschool celebrations: the holiday singalong. Dozens of preschoolers dressed in their holiday finest, singing Christmas songs on a stage in front families loaded down by cameras, video cameras, and cell phones. All of the kids were beyond adorable: smiling on the stage, waving to their parents, jingling their bells...all except one. Dallas. Yep, my kid didn't want to go on stage. Not one bit. No way, no how. I honestly didn't mind, or I didn't think that I minded.
I was actually pretty happy that he was feeling some stage-fright as soon as we arrived at the theater. Little boys were in ties, Christmas sweaters, and khakis while girls were sparkly in holiday dresses with glittering tights and fancy shoes. Dallas was in gray sweatpants, a shirt in an entirely different shade of gray, a blue hoodie emblazoned with a skull, and his favorite Spider-Man gym shoes. Needless to say, I was a touch mortified that I hadn't made him get gussied up before we left the house.
His teacher convinced him to sit in the front row so he could join in the singing and jingle-belling with the rest of his classmates. He sat beside me with his hood over his head Unabomber-style and happily sang the songs from his seat while the rest of the class sang on stage. I couldn't seem to shake the tense feeling I had, though, about why he wouldn't just suck it up and go do what he was supposed to do. I didn't want the other parents to judge me on his behavior. Serious selfishness, right? I did my best to mask my tension from him because I didn't want him to sense that I was embarrassed by his choice. I was embarrassed for me, sure. But I also didn't want him to stand out and be...different.
About halfway through the program, the kids stood up to do the "Reindeer Pokey." For those of you not in the know, you put your antlers in, you put your antlers out. You put your antlers in, and you shake 'em all about it. And, really, that's what it's all about. I noticed Dallas slowly scooting out of his chair, and I told him he could go up on stage if he felt like it. He smiled at me and climbed up on the stage. There he stood in the front of the pack, hood up, looking slightly rumpled, and danced his little booty off.
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| Working the antlers |
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| Shakin' his tail all about |
As soon as the song was over, he sat back down beside me and stayed there until the final two songs when he decided to finish on the stage with his friends. After the last song, the teachers invited the students to take a bow for the audience. Dallas's bow was so big, so proud, and so elaborate that he almost fell over. I was so proud of him for knowing exactly what he wanted to do and for having the courage to do it his way. Quite frankly, I'm in awe of how he lives his life with such honesty. I was proud of myself for letting go of what I thought I was supposed to be thinking or feeling. Dallas may not march to the same drum-beat as everyone else, but I love whatever sound he chooses to hear.
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| No frills, no fancy...just my boy |
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Fun, family, and forty
Whoa. I can't believe the last post I wrote was about Halloween, and now it's after Thanksgiving. One thousand apologies for my lack of blogging, my friends.
We have had a busy month, as usual. We started November with a fabulous trip to Disneyland, our first time there. Yes, we're Disney addicts. I say it loud and proud. It was a weird sense walking into Disneyland Park in Anaheim; it was like deja vu only I had never been there before. It was just as magical as walking into the Magic Kingdom in Orlando, but yet, it was completely different, too. One of the great things about Disneyland is that everything is in walking distance from each other. Our hotel, the gorgeous Grand Californian Resort and Spa, had a separate entrance to Disney's California Adventure (DCA). It was fantastic at the end of a long day (or sometimes a long morning) to walk right back into our hotel from the park. Getting to either DCA or the Magic Kingdom was ridiculously easy: a ten minute walk at the most. It was wonderful not to have to worry about transportation and building in extra time for buses or boats. We had mostly great weather, although it ended up raining the last couple of days. But not even small showers could ruin our magical time.
One of the best parts of the trip was getting together with Trevor's cousin Jonathan, his lovely wife Karen, and their son, Jackson. Jackson is seriously one of the most gorgeous children I have ever seen, and his smile is like sunshine. Lottie and Dallas spent plenty of time fawning over him, and it was really sweet to see the three of them together.
During the trip, I celebrated my fortieth birthday. I can't imagine how I could have had a better birthday than spending it with my family at one of the most magical places on earth. I mean, right? Turning forty has been completely painless, I gotta say. I was definitely more conflicted about turning thirty: I was at a fairly unsettled point in my life. I was still too worried about what was going to happen in my life, what other people thought of me, and what I thought of myself. Now it's different. I'm settled and I'm happy with where I have landed. I'm comfortable in my own skin, and I'm not afraid of others' opinions. It's not because I don't care, but it's because I'm secure in who I am.
That's a feeling I hope that I can pass along to Lottie and Dallas. Both of my kids have such distinct and individual personalities, and I don't ever want them to think they have to change for anyone, not even me, especially me. Do they drive me insane and frustrate the heck out of me? From time to time, sure, but I would rather be rattled by them than have kids who have no energy, no creativity, no skills, no spark. If turning forty has taught me anything, it's that I'm grateful for who I used to be, who I have become, and who I continue to be. Frankly, I'm pretty damn awesome, and I'll be even more awesome when I empower my children to embrace who they are and revel in their own awesomeness.
We have had a busy month, as usual. We started November with a fabulous trip to Disneyland, our first time there. Yes, we're Disney addicts. I say it loud and proud. It was a weird sense walking into Disneyland Park in Anaheim; it was like deja vu only I had never been there before. It was just as magical as walking into the Magic Kingdom in Orlando, but yet, it was completely different, too. One of the great things about Disneyland is that everything is in walking distance from each other. Our hotel, the gorgeous Grand Californian Resort and Spa, had a separate entrance to Disney's California Adventure (DCA). It was fantastic at the end of a long day (or sometimes a long morning) to walk right back into our hotel from the park. Getting to either DCA or the Magic Kingdom was ridiculously easy: a ten minute walk at the most. It was wonderful not to have to worry about transportation and building in extra time for buses or boats. We had mostly great weather, although it ended up raining the last couple of days. But not even small showers could ruin our magical time.
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| Finding treasure on Tom Sawyer's Island |
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| Lottie and Dallas with Dale |
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| Dallas and his lady love, Minnie |
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| Periwinkle and Tinks with the kids at Pixie Hollow |
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| Entering Disneyland Park |
One of the best parts of the trip was getting together with Trevor's cousin Jonathan, his lovely wife Karen, and their son, Jackson. Jackson is seriously one of the most gorgeous children I have ever seen, and his smile is like sunshine. Lottie and Dallas spent plenty of time fawning over him, and it was really sweet to see the three of them together.
During the trip, I celebrated my fortieth birthday. I can't imagine how I could have had a better birthday than spending it with my family at one of the most magical places on earth. I mean, right? Turning forty has been completely painless, I gotta say. I was definitely more conflicted about turning thirty: I was at a fairly unsettled point in my life. I was still too worried about what was going to happen in my life, what other people thought of me, and what I thought of myself. Now it's different. I'm settled and I'm happy with where I have landed. I'm comfortable in my own skin, and I'm not afraid of others' opinions. It's not because I don't care, but it's because I'm secure in who I am.
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| Mama turns 40! |
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| The kids at Goofy's house |
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| My sweet, feisty, generous, amazing offspring |
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