The New Year's Resolution That Came Without a Warning

The other morning was the same as every weekday morning in our house. The kids came to the dining room table to eat their breakfast, one wide awake and giddy, and the other not so much. I stared at my coffee maker as the coffee dripped at a pace that felt far too slow while my dog danced around the kitchen willing me to let him outside. The kids ate their breakfast, and I put the ice packs in their lunch boxes. I began emptying the dishwasher in my usual mechanical way, mugs and glasses first, dishes next, and finally silverware. Just as I finished, the kids both ushered in with their dirty dishes. It’s our morning dance. It’s a dance we have perfected with time.

Next I moved on to the stage where I feel like a sheep herder. I shout short commands that are either met with silence or frustration. Boys brush your teeth, make your beds, hurry up it’s time to get your shoes on. The bus is coming!!! We meander out into the cold to greet the big yellow school bus. I give them each a kiss and tell them to have a good day and just like that the day is in full go mode. Like every other parent on the planet, I never feel like there is enough time in any given day. I rush from one task to the next hoping to be able to check off most of my list before that bus pulls up to drop the boys off because once they get dropped off, it’s homework time and then we rush off to our activities. Once we arrive back home I make dinner while fantasizing about climbing into bed and falling asleep.

My girlfriends and I often joke that we feel like hamsters on a wheel. The laundry can feel all consuming. The meal prep never seems to end. We are working, all while trying to delicately balance the daily life that comes with having a family. Homework, grocery shopping, permission slips, school theme days, doctor appointments, cleaning, science projects, meetings, soccer practice, and the list goes on and on and on. Sometimes I feel like I’m a catcher and the pitcher is whipping ball after ball with no break in between. Sure it’s exhausting, but it can also feel isolating and overwhelming. Don’t get me wrong my husband does just as much around here. We are all just trying to keep our heads above water.

I have never been someone who makes New Year's resolutions. It’s not because I don’t think I have room to improve, because I do. We all do. It’s because I don’t like to set myself up for failure. I always thought New Year resolutions had to be these grandiose proclamations. I’m just not ambitious enough to decide on January 1^st that I’m going to change my entire body composition or go to bed by 9 pm every night, or write a book. Okay, so going to bed earlier probably wouldn’t be completely crazy, but somehow it would still feel like a lot of pressure to me.

The other morning though something changed all that. After the kids and I completed our regular morning dance, I went into my bedroom to make my bed. My youngest son was brushing his teeth and then he called for me. I went into the bathroom and saw his little smiling face staring back at me from the reflection in the mirror. Then I saw my reflection and I noticed how stressed I looked. Just as I was about to say; What buddy? You have to hurry up.  I stopped myself and instead I looked at him and smiled. That’s when he looked at me and said, “Mommy will you comb my hair for me?” He handed me the comb. As I started to comb his hair I had a moment of clarity. I think moments of clarity often come during the simplest times. Although they seem to come when we need them the most, if we don’t take a minute to notice them they can pass us right by without so much as a warning. As I stood there combing my 6-year-old’s hair, I realized there will come a day when I will do this for the last time. I won’t know it’s the last time though. There will come a day when I no longer have two kids chattering away at the breakfast table while I stare at the coffee brewing. There will come a day when I no longer have lunch boxes to pack, or a full dishwasher to unload. As I tried to hide the tears that were welling up in my eyes, my son looked at me and asked if I was okay. “Mommy is fine bud. Actually mommy is really good.”

I brought the boys to the school bus, and kissed them both goodbye. I waited to watch the bus actually pull away and round the corner until it was no longer in my sight. I realized that stressing over my list of things to accomplish is causing me to miss out on the two most important parts of that list. There will come a day when that school bus leaves my sight for the very last time. There will come a day when the sound of the school bus in my neighborhood will remind me of the two little boys who used to run off every afternoon, eager to tell me all about their day. As parents we take note of all the firsts, but we don’t do the same for the lasts. It’s not because the lasts aren’t important, it’s because we don’t get a warning that they have arrived.

As I walked back into my house I made my first New Year's resolution. I decided to make a valiant effort to be present instead of worrying about every little thing I should be getting done. When my son called for me I could have said I was making my bed and told him to finish up, but I would have missed out on a moment that felt so much bigger than a comb and a mirror. I saw him. I really saw him. I saw a mother and a son. I saw a little boy who still wants and needs his mommy, and for a brief moment I saw a big teenager who would no longer need me to comb his hair. Far too often I tell my kids they have to wait because I’m in the middle of vacuuming, or cooking, sending an email or making a phone call. What will happen if I skip the vacuuming, order takeout, or put off the email for an hour or so? Well, with any luck I won’t miss out on any of their lasts. We can’t control how fast time moves, but we can control how we spend that time. I tucked them both in that night and as I closed their doors I silently willed them to give me some type of warning when the last tuck in is near. I know I won’t get a warning though, so until then I’m going to make sure I don’t miss one. 

A Christmas Full Of Memories

My husband and I got married in October of 2005. Christmas arrived quickly that year and we decided we were going to go cut down a tree.  Here’s something I didn’t know, a tree in the wilderness may appear smaller than it actually is. We were living in a two bedroom condo at the time and my husband wound up having to cut the tree on our tiny little deck in order to just fit it in the door. Fun times. The neighbors must have loved us.

Once we got the tree inside I realized I didn’t really have any ornaments to decorate it. So I did what anyone would do. I rushed out to Target and stocked up on a bunch of cheap, but pretty enough ornaments so that our poor, cut up tree would look like an actual Christmas tree. Once the lights were on, our tree looked great. Lights fix everything. I had three nice ornaments on the tree. Two of them we had bought on our honeymoon and one of them I had made at the local mall for our “first Christmas” together. I decided that by the following year I would have a real grownup tree. You know the type of tree I’m talking about. It’s the one in all the magazines. It’s the one that Martha did herself. It’s the one you pin for future reference. It’s usually color coordinated. Spoiler alert it is not the tree I have.

My plan had been to go out at the end of the Christmas season and stock up on the expensive ornaments that would surely all be on clearance. Only I didn’t do that, because well the best laid plans as they say. Before I knew it Christmas was over and winter turned to spring. Who thinks about their Christmas tree in the spring? Not this girl. Summer arrived and in a blink fall followed, as did our anniversary. We went away for the weekend and I decided to buy an ornament in a local shop. What I didn’t know then is that with that one ornament I would begin a tradition that would carry on for our family, making our tree what it is today.

In the years that followed, I began buying an ornament on every vacation or special trip we took together. I went back to the same place I had bought our “first Christmas” ornament and had one made when we got our dog, then again when our oldest son was born, and again when our youngest was born. They closed after that and I’m so happy I was able to get all of our special ornaments from them before they did.

When we go away somewhere my husband knows that I will not leave until I find a shop that sells local ornaments. I have an ornament from our first trip with our oldest. I have one from my husband’s fortieth birthday. I have many from our summers in Lake George. I always write the year on it before packing it away.

Every year when it comes time to decorate the house for Christmas I am completely stressed. All I can think about is my long list of things to get done. I imagine my family grows pretty tired of hearing me talk about how much I have left to do when we literally just finished our Thanksgiving turkey. I can’t help myself. I’m one of those people who complain when I feel overwhelmed. I will admit it’s not my best quality. I try to surround myself with people who are the “glass is half full” type because when my glass is empty I need someone to help fill it up a bit.

This year wasn’t any different. My list is long and my patience was running thin. I spent a good deal of time telling my husband it was never going to all get done. “I’m only one person. We don’t even have a tree yet. When I am getting all the shopping done? Do people really need a card from us?” He’s gotten pretty good about just nodding along and ignoring my Christmas induced insanity. We finally went to get our tree. He put it up the next day and got all the lights on it. He took all the boxes of ornaments down from the attic and suggested I decorate the tree in peace and quiet the next day while they were all out of the house. I agreed.

The next day I opened the first box and pulled out our “first Christmas together” ornament. Suddenly I was brought back in time, eleven years ago, before our kids when we were newlyweds cutting down a tree together that would wind up being way too big for our condo. I started laughing just thinking about it.

 The next ornament was one from Hawaii and I remembered our blissful honeymoon and how eleven years has certainly aged us but I wouldn’t change a thing. Next it was an ornament from Lake George 2015 which was the last summer my grandmother was with us for that trip. I cried thinking about how much I miss her, but I smiled thinking about all the wonderful memories we have with her. 

Ornament after ornament brought me somewhere back in time. They are all representations of a time that has passed, but each and every one of them mean more than I ever thought they would when I bought them. It is amazing how the sight of something as small as a Christmas ornament can bring up so many emotions. As I picked up each one I instantly had a picture in my mind of the trip. I saw my oldest at two playing in the sand of Cape Cod.

I saw my youngest at two beaming with excitement on his first steam boat in Lake George.

I saw my husband and me holding hands as we walked the Cliff walk together in Newport Rhode Island.

I moved on to all the homemade ornaments my kids have made over the years and I was reminded about just how fast time moves. My grandmother always used to say “Don’t blink Jen. It goes faster than people tell you.” I blinked. She was right. My oldest is eight now. Looking at his little face on a gingerbread man that he made when he was three reminded me just how fast time is moving. I remember him giving it to us. I remember laughing and telling him it was adorable.

My youngest is five and I remember the Santa face ornament he gave us for his last Christmas in preschool.

The ornaments with their faces on them are my favorite. They are frozen in time. I may never get another one of my eight year old at this point. So I cherish the ones I have. They are worth more to me than the most expensive ornament on the clearance shelf. The same can be said about the Popsicle stick ornaments and the toilet paper roll snowmen. They are priceless.

When I was done decorating the tree I realized just how lucky we are.  My stress was gone. If nothing else gets done that’s okay because everything we need to celebrate Christmas is represented on our tree. I will never have a Martha tree and I’m good with that. I don’t need a tree meant for the magazines. I want a tree meant for our life. I will continue to buy an ornament everywhere we go and date it accordingly. One day when I blink and the kids are out of the house starting their own traditions, I will have the ornaments to bring me back in time, to bring me back to days that might not have seemed big at the time but will surely be worth remembering.  I will always enjoy Christmas and I will forever cherish looking back onto Christmas pasts. After all Christmas is about making memories with those we love and I can’t think of a better way to celebrate that than with a tree full of memories. 

Ten Steps Towards A Real Friendship

There are times as a parent that I find myself looking at my kids and feeling a little bit of envy towards their youth. After all they have more energy than I can muster after a full night of sleep and an entire pot of coffee. They also have the endless ability to use their imaginations and act silly while receiving zero judgment (people look at me funny when I run around my yard chasing bubbles). They still believe in the good in everything. They don’t have adult responsibilities to ponder as they desperately try to fall asleep at night. No. My kids get in bed and blissfully fall asleep while dreaming about ice cream and a game of kickball, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Childhood should be chock full of innocence and smiles and void of stress and sleepless nights.

The one thing I don’t envy though is navigating through the ups and downs of unestablished friendships. If there is anything that I have learned in my forty years it’s how to know the difference between a real friendship and a fake one. I no longer have the patience for nonsense or fair weather friends. Age and experience have taught me a thing or two about friendships over the years. I haven’t escaped without a few cuts and bruises, mostly to my pride but I’m better off for it.

I think one of the most important lessons we can teach our children is how to be a good friend.  I want my kids to be able to recognize a good apple from a bad apple in the bunch but I also want them to know what it takes to be the good apple. It’s not always easy and if we are being honest I haven’t always been a good friend when I should have been, but with life lessons and maturity I have learned what it takes to be a good friend.

1. Be a good listener. Good friends take the time to not only hear your words but to really listen to them. No one wants to talk to someone who is always talking. Take a breath. Listen. It means more than you realize.
2.  Show up. It sounds easy but not many people do it so when you find someone who shows up without being asked you have found a friend. Be that friend. Show up for the good stuff. Show up for the bad stuff. Just show up. 
   
3. Stand next to and up for your friends. When someone is your friend you don’t always have to agree with them but you should always want to stand up for them. 
   
4. Don’t talk about them. Talk to them. If you have a problem with one of your buddies tell them. Don’t tell everyone else instead of them. Real friends tell each other when they’ve done something to upset them. Be direct. Be honest. It says a lot about your character.
5. Celebrate their achievements. You and your friends didn’t learn to crawl or walk at the same time. Your successes are going to ebb and flow. It might take you a little longer than your friend to find your success but be happy for them. Cheer them on and they will return the favor by rooting for you. 
   
6. Embrace them during their failures. Life is about learning. We cannot learn if we don’t fail along the way. When we fail we need someone to tell us it’s going to be okay. We need someone who will tell us to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and keep trying until we succeed. Be that person.
7.  Believe in your friend. Believe in their dreams. Believe in their hopes. Don’t minimize any of that because in doing so you deplete the air from their balloon. No one wants to be friends with someone who sucks the air out of their balloon. Balloons make people happy. 
   
8. Allow them to be who they are and be the real you whenever you are with them. Real friends don’t have to change themselves to be friends. They love each other for exactly who they are. They love the good, the bad, and the ugly. You don’t always have to like your friends but if you are real friends you will always love them. 
   
9. Be silly, be vulnerable, cry, laugh and have fun with your friends. Don’t be the fun vacuum. No one wants to be friends with someone who walks into the room and sucks the fun right out. Don’t be afraid to have fun. Don’t be afraid to laugh until you cry, and definitely don’t be afraid to cry when you need to. Friends who are willing to show emotion in front of each other form a deeper bond because of it. The things you laugh and cry about will change as you grow older but the bond will remain the same.
10. Call your friend out if they need it. You know who they are and you know who they want to be so if you see your friend headed down a path that will take them far away from both of those places call them out on it. You might lose them for a little while but they will come back.

Life is about making connections. The bonds we form and the relationships we build enhance the life we lead. They take work but they shouldn’t feel so hard that you are exhausted from them. The relationships worth fighting for and working on will not always be obvious to you, but when you realize one is, I know you will both give them your all. The thing is, every person who comes into your life comes into it for a reason. Some will leave you and some will stay, but each one will teach you something about yourself that you wouldn’t have known without them. Enjoy the simple things. Take in the moments. Don't worry so much about the years and the memories because in the end the moments that you show up for will make up the memories that you will look back upon for years. 

To My Last Baby

When the doctor announced you were a boy and gently laid you on my chest I didn’t know at the time that you would be my last. When you wrapped your little hand around my finger and our eyes met for the first time I had no idea that it would be the last time I experienced a bond so new. When I brought you home and rocked you in the nursery I didn’t know at the time that you would be the last baby to make that nursery a home.  Looking back, I realize that just like the firsts were so very special with your brother, the lasts were just as special with you.

It’s ironic that when I first found out I was pregnant with you I was both excited and yet somehow still nervous.  I was so very afraid there just wouldn’t be enough of me to equally love you and your brother. Oh how wrong I was. The moment you were born I quickly figured out that I didn’t have to share my heart with you both, instead my heart grew bigger. It grew so big that I immediately knew having “enough love” was never going to be a problem of ours.

There of course came a point in time that I did in fact realize you were the last puzzle piece. You were the part of our family that was missing and with you our family became complete. Of course with that epiphany came the realization that you were the last baby. I want you to know that being the last baby comes with a great deal of responsibility and honor. You see your brother paved the way. He was our first, but you my love, you are our last. Your brother started our family and you completed it. The engine of the train leads the way, but without the caboose the train would be missing something. You are our caboose. 

In case you should ever start to doubt just how much you mean to me I want you to take this letter and keep it with you always.

My dearest caboose,

My love for you was big from day one and only grew bigger.  I wasn’t always good about writing down your milestones but each and every one of them is etched in my mind and they will remain there…always. The first time you called me mama, the first time you laughed, the first time you crawled, the first time you walked, and the very first time you ran and didn’t look back right away.

I remember the smell of your head. I remember the softness of your feet. That is love. Love holds onto these little moments. I remember your first day of preschool and in a blink there we were at your preschool graduation.

I remember putting you on the big school bus for the first time and knowing you were ready but doubting that I was. I wasn’t.  I remember comforting you when you were scared and sharing in your excitement when you hit your first baseball. I remember your joy of art projects and spending my days picking up scraps of paper remnants while my feet stuck to random pieces of tape. I remember knowing that I would surely miss them both.

I remember the way you passionately called every child in your class your friend before saying their name when you would tell me a story about them at the dinner table. I remember the way you looked up to your brother. I remember the way you just wanted to play with the big kids. I remember when you became the big kid. I thought I was ready. I wasn’t.

I remember the way you gave everything your all. I remember knowing you were always going to try your hardest, you were going to love big, and you were going to always be a giant light shining in the dark.

I remember the many times I smiled with pride and hid the tears as to not embarrass you, but they were there. They were always there.  With every step, every turn, every milestone you amaze me. You make my heart continue to grow.  One day I will be standing in a sea of parents watching our babies graduate from high school. I want you to know that the tears are my way of trying to let go of the baby who first wrapped his hand around my finger and the smile is my way of letting you know that it’s okay. It’s OK, because in letting go you somehow make my heart continue to grow.  In the end your brother is the engine and you are the caboose, but I am the engineer and once I get you both safely to where you are going my job is complete, which is ironic because my dear caboose you completed me.  

"and 

she loved

a 

little boy

very, very much

-even more

than

-she loved

herself."

Shel Silverstein The Giving Tree

A Trip To China-The Day I Had To Take My Kid To The Gynecologist

When you become a mother all humility pretty much goes out the window. It starts when you’re in labor and from what I can tell it continues until your kids move out of your house. I no longer get privacy when I pee, shower or change. I was considering bolting the door closed but I have the sneaky suspicion that they will find an open window or a way to propel in from the roof. Kids are good at finding you. They really should work for the FBI.

My kids are getting older so we have actually started to lay some ground rules about not walking in on mommy in her granny panties. I mean good grief I don’t need an entire preschool class getting a full on description of my underwear during circle time. I still have nightmares about the time my oldest walked in on me peeing before preschool. He asked why my penis looked funny to which I replied, “Honey mommy doesn’t have a penis. I have a vagina. Now can you please get out so I can finish and we can go?” I remember thinking I handled it perfectly. Crisis averted. Therapy avoided. Then we walked into preschool and he told all the moms in the lobby that his mommy has a penis on the inside. “It’s so weird. You can’t even see it.” He’s almost eight now and I know he doesn’t remember this but I’m fairly certain there are a few mothers from that class that still talk about me at their book club while clutching their pearls.

My oldest is pretty good about boundaries and privacy. I think it is because he is suddenly realizing he too would like some privacy while using the toilet. I’m glad to have him on board. My four year old on the other hand still doesn’t get it. He would gladly greet the mailman in his underwear. He still thinks it’s ok to pee in the backyard even if we have company. I thank potty training during the summer months for that one. Now when I tell him it’s unacceptable I’m often met with, “But the dog does it.” It’s hard to argue with a four year old. Their thoughts make complete and perfect sense to them and trying to argue with them is like banging your head into a brick wall over and over and expecting it to collapse. The wall will still be standing but you will wind up with a massive headache.

I can tell you any advances I was making with teaching my four year old about boundaries were thrown out the window this morning. Today I had to do something that I have never had to do. I had to bring him with me for my annual exam at the gynecologist. Yes. That’s right. He had to come to the lady doctor with me. First off let me just say that in our house we have always referred to body parts by their real names. Despite the fact that the word vagina has been said in our home, the four year old still thinks it’s called a China. I know this because the other day on the way to school he asked me if all girls have a China. I told him yes and he then proceeded to name every single girl and woman we have ever met in our entire lives and repeat, “Fill in 80 names here has a China.  We hit every traffic light that day because of course we would.  

This morning I carefully explained to him that he was going to have to come with me to the doctor.  Ladies you all know how hard it is to get an appointment with the OBGYN especially if you see a group and you want someone specific, so cancelling was just out of the question. I told him he could pick a special snack to have afterwards if he was good. I told him he could bring his iPad. I have never hoped and prayed more that my child would stare at a screen than I did this morning. I told him it would be quick. He agreed to all the bribes and we were on our way. When we arrived there was what seemed like an unusually high amount of pregnant women in the waiting area. Now I know that this is where pregnant women go to get checked, but I’m telling you it seemed like every other chair had a pregnant woman sitting in it. The four year old turned to me and with a lower than normal voice (thank you Jesus) said “Geez mommy why do so many ladies here have babies in their bellies? Is this where you come to get one put in? Are you having a baby put in today?”

“Mrs. Lizza can I have you fill out an updated information sheet for me.”

Again thank you Jesus.

Before I knew it I was being called in for my exam. This is where it gets dicey.

The nurse weighed me (can I at least take my damn shoes off) and then she asked me to give her a urine sample.

 4yo: “What’s urine?” Volume level: 400

 Me: “It’s pee honey. Be quiet and follow me.”

 4yo: “Ewwww. You have to give her your pee???”  Volume level: 850

 Me: “Yes. Come into the bathroom and close the door.”

 4yo: “How are you going to give her your pee? In your hands?”

 Me: “No. In a cup.”

 4yo: “A CUP??? You mean that thing. It’s so big. Do you have to fill the whole thing with your pee?” Volume level: 1,105.

Me: “Honey, please. I can’t pee with you being so loud.”

4yo: “Why not? Is your pee scared of my voice? Because that would be weird.” Volume level: 2,200.

I then proceeded to hand my bucket of fearful pee to the nurse and walk into the exam room.

4yo: *Pointing to foot stirrups* “What on earth are those things?” Volume level: I’m sweating.

The nurse handed me my paper doily to keep me warm (laughable) while wearing my open in the front gown. I didn’t need the paper doily today though because I was sweating from the fear of the future therapy bill for both me and my son. All I kept thinking was oh my God we are going to have to remortgage the house for the therapy bills. We might have to move. Circle time. Oh for the love he has circle time tomorrow.

The nurse then proceeded to ask me what my husband and I were using for birth control and all I could think was THIS. We are using this very day as our birth control. It will work for now and all of eternity. She looked at me and asked if I wanted to speak in code. In code? Is there some secret code language for mothers who have to bring their child with them to this appointment that I don’t know about? Could someone have handed me a pamphlet in the waiting room? I don’t know code. Instead I proceeded to mouth my answers and much to my delight she understood me. God bless her.

She told me the doctor would be in shortly and told my son he could sit in the chair against the wall facing the stirrups. Now I was really sweating. I was considering high tailing it out of there because I was picturing him going into school and me getting phone call after phone call from every mother in the class. As I put the gown on, my four year old was laughing. I looked at him and said,“OK honey. It’s not funny. I have to wear this.”

4yo: “What is it? It has a big hole in the entire thing. It doesn’t even make sense. You won’t let me wear those jeans to school anymore that have a hole in the knee.”

Just as I was about to tell him he could wear them to school every day for the rest of the year, the doctor walked in. She talked to him for a little and then to me. She stood up and looked at me and said OK well what are we going to do with him? Hmm.

“Hey buddy, come with me I bet the nurses have some work you could do at the nurses’ station.”

4yo: “YES!! Awesome!”

Me: “YES!! SO Awesome.”

Her: “Yeah I don’t need to be the reason he needs therapy.” *Wink*

It was like she was in my brain. Oh thank you Jesus. My four year old does not have to witness my annual China exam.

She came back in and we laughed and laughed about being mothers, having boys and dealing with things our husbands simply could never understand. As I walked out my son was sitting with the nurses sorting through stickers for all the kids who come in with their mommies. I told him it was time to go and he stood up with a smile. The woman in front of me was expecting and she was making an appointment for her next ultrasound.

Volume Level 200,000: “So Mommy did you get one of those put in today or what?”  He starts kindergarten in the fall so thankfully he will never have to come with me to the China doctor again. 

Allow Your Children To See That There Is Kindness All Around Us

Parents tend to have a lot of different opinions on what qualifies as the best way to raise our children. We may not all see eye to eye on the foods we feed our kids, the schools we attend or the sports they should or should not play, but I  think it’s safe to say that we all have one thing that we can agree on. We all want to raise kind children.  No one walks around arguing that they are really hoping to raise a giant jerk.  No one wants their child to grow up to be an adult who isn’t kind. Knowing what we want as parents and ensuring that we are doing it though are two different things.

On any given day when we turn on the news or scroll through Facebook we are inundated with people behaving in ways that are anything but kind. We have become so used to this behavior that when someone does do something kind we share it and talk about it as if we just saw a real live unicorn. When did kindness become so shocking? Don’t get me wrong I love a good story about kindness but part of me just wishes these stories didn’t surprise us.

Raising children is no easy task, especially if you want to raise those children to be good people. We are raising two boys and I am often told how lucky I am to have boys. I can’t tell you how many times I have heard boys are so much easier to raise than girls. Really. Are they? I don’t think they are. I don’t think raising children in a world where kindness is not the norm is easy for anyone whether you have a gaggle of girls or an army of boys. We are doing the best we can to teach our boys right from wrong. We talk to them about leading instead of following. We talk to them about treating people the way they themselves want to be treated. We talk and we talk and we talk.  We hope that they hear us but it’s not always easy to tell if they are really listening.

The other day we were in New York City for the day. We live in New Jersey so my boys love taking in the sights of New York whenever we get the chance to go. New York is known for its busy streets. At any given time on any given day the streets are full of cars, buses, people walking, people on bikes, and people running. Everyone is always in a rush. Most of the time people can be seen crossing the street while looking at their phone or while wearing headphones. I used to work in the city every day before having children and I was one of those people. Now when we go into the city it can be pretty obvious at times that we are not in fact New Yorkers. We know our way around but we forget sometimes how fast you have to move to keep up with the herd.

We had to take the subway uptown and when we got down onto the platform we were unsure if we were in the right place.  We tried looking for a map but couldn’t find one. Everyone around us was rushing around and it started to feel really chaotic. The last thing we wanted to do was get on the wrong train. All of a sudden out of nowhere a woman walked up to me and asked where we were trying to go. I told her and she smiled and said, “You are in the right place. This is your train. I am going to the same spot. You have five stops.” I couldn’t thank her enough. There we were out of our element and slightly panicked and this woman decided to approach me to help. She did this for no other reason than seeing someone who needed help and offering it. At that moment I smiled. It really made me happy. When we got onto the train I smiled at her and she smiled back. She knew how grateful I was. My oldest son smiled at her too. He knew that she had helped his mom and that made him happy.

When we got to our stop we made our way back up to the street and that’s when I realized I no longer had my cell phone. Did I drop it? Did I leave it at the museum when we were leaving? We stood at the top of the subway stairs while my husband called it and I dug frantically through my purse. It wasn’t there and I was really upset. It had the address of the place we were supposed to be arriving at next and it has so many pictures. I started to get really upset about all the pictures. It was almost 5pm so the streets were really busy. All of a sudden a man who was rushing to catch his train stopped and approached us. He asked if we were ok and if we needed any help. I quickly told him we were fine and thanked him for stopping. It had happened again. Another person had noticed we looked like we needed help and had stopped out of kindness. I stopped worrying about my phone and decided I would check at our next stop with the museum. Luckily it turned out to be there.

As we made our way into the movie theater my youngest son looked up at me with his innocent four year old eyes and said “Mommy people in New York sure are nice.” I realized he was right. Not just about people in New York. People for the most part are nice. We are so used to seeing and hearing the negative things that we forget that kindness is all around us. I realized that day that the best way for me to teach my boys about kindness is to show them kindness. I can talk to them until I’m blue in the face about them being kind, but it’s when they see us acting kind that they really understand it.  For the first time in a long time I was without my cell phone. It made me have to see people, really see them and it made me realize I want my boys to see me like that more often. I want them to see me being present. I want them to see me noticing things around us instead of the things in my phone. The man and woman who separately helped us that day had two things in common. They were present. Neither of them had their heads buried in a phone so they were really able to see us and they were kind.

Being kind is a quality but it’s also an action. In order for my children to grow up to be kind and do kind things I need to be present. I need to look at people. I need to be human. It’s when we take time to really see the people around us that we wind up being kind in our everyday lives. 

This post was also featured on The Today Parenting Team

Learning To Pop The Bubble

As a child I remember thinking that by the time I became an adult things would be so different in the world. I imagined we would have flying cars and houses that appeared to be right out of an episode of The Jetsons. While we don’t have flying cars just yet we do have things that have made our lives easier. Can you say Keurig? We live in a world full of ever changing technology. We have smart phones, tablets, lap tops, streaming television, and Amazon. We live in an age where we don’t even have to leave the comfort of our own homes to get essentials like groceries, clothing, diapers, and any other thing you could possibly need. Our children couldn’t even begin to imagine a world where they would have to walk to the corner store to pick up the newspaper.  Isn’t that what the internet is for? Besides don’t even think about a walk to the corner store or someone will call child protective services.

The world sure has become easier. Or has it? As a parent I have been asking myself this question an awful lot lately. Do our kids in fact have it easier than we did? The answer I come up with time and time again is; in some aspects yes but in others not so much. There has been a lot of discussion lately on the internet, the news and amongst parents everywhere in our country about the way we parent today. I have to be completely honest. I don’t always know where I fall with my opinion on this.

I was born in the late 1970s so the majority of my childhood was spent hanging out in the 1980s. We didn’t have smart phones or tablets and what in the love is the internet? I am raising my kids in the same neighborhood I spent my childhood. I used to walk to school. We ALL used to walk to school. There were no sidewalks or crossing guards. We learned from an early age to walk together with our friends and look both ways. The children in our neighborhood no longer walk to school. It’s just not an option. All the kids have to take a school bus now even if that means they are only on the school bus for three minutes. They are not permitted to walk. It’s safer this way for the kids. Right?

The thing is I’m not sure anymore. When I was a child we played outside for hours without any adult supervision. My mom checked on us and gave us lunch while she was inside “getting things done.” We spent hours using our imaginations and making our own decisions. Albeit they were not always the best decisions, like that one time I pushed my sister into a bush only to realize it was a thorn bush, but they were our decisions and we learned from them. We rarely ran inside to our parents tattling on one another. We worked it out or fought it out. We came inside dirty, sometimes covered in thorns, took showers and repeated it all the next day. When my kids play outside it’s rare that one of us isn’t outside with them. My oldest is going to be seven and my youngest is turning four next month. There are times when I’m outside watching them and I feel ridiculous. We live in a safe neighborhood. All of the neighbors know one another. Our yard is fenced in and I can see them from the kitchen window but there I sit watching their every move.

I have vivid memories of being in first grade and walking a good three blocks to meet my best friend halfway so we could play at one another’s house. The thought of allowing my first grader to walk three blocks to meet a friend makes me shiver. Why? All the research shows that we are not living in a country that is any more dangerous than it was back then but as parents we have become much more protective. Is it because we know all of the dangerous things that do happen? We know about them in detail. We know them from real life crime shows. We know them from stories shared on social media. We know them.

Don’t get me wrong I’m not suggesting we birth our young and send them out into the wild on their own like a lion, but I am suggesting we think about how we are raising them and how it will affect them later in life. From a very early age I knew not to talk to strangers. My parents taught me about “scary vans” and what to do if someone should ask me to help them find their lost puppy. I was not a naïve child. I knew bad people existed and I knew when my sister and I were riding our bikes that we should run to the closest house and make it seem like we lived there should someone approach us. Scream. We knew always to scream. I talk to my kids about stranger danger but I’m not so sure that they would know how to apply that information should they actually need it. The problem with raising kids in a bubble is that when the bubble pops they are not going to know how to breathe the air.

We are living in an age of over scheduled kids who have every moment of their day planned out for them by other people. We held off from organized sports for a while, and by a while I mean until my oldest had already done half a year of Kindergarten. Somehow by today’s standards that is considered a lifetime. We allow him to do one sport per season now, and only if he says he wants to do it. We started to feel like the odd parents who were not running around from field to field on our weekends but now that we are doing it we are not so sure we care if we are the odd ones. When we were kids we did activities, but my parents dropped us off and picked us up an hour later. Practices can run two hours now and parents don’t just drop and go. No sir. You sit there and watch so that you know what to work on when you get home with little Johnny. It’s also just become the norm. It’s how we as parents spend our weekends and when we don’t have a full schedule we try to fill it with other stuff like playdates and trips to the zoo, a museum, a hike, a playground, or the Eiffel flipping tower. We think this makes us involved, good parents but I’m starting to think it is going to come back around and bite us right in our sports watching behinds.

Sure sports and other extracurricular activities teach children discipline and balance but what about teaching them how to navigate the world? If we are a generation of parents who spend every moment with our children, filling their memories with constant entertainment and activities all while navigating the unknown FOR them how can we expect them to go out into the great big world one day and survive without us? Forget the world how can we expect them to do something like head off to college or go out looking for their first job?

Sadly I think the answer is that a lot of them won’t be able to do it. Don’t misinterpret my concern that we are smothering a whole generation of kids with me not wanting to be involved. I do. I love my kids more than anything. I love watching them learn new things and having fun at a soccer game or a baseball game. I do, but sometimes I feel sad that they are missing out on a real childhood, the innocence of it all. The best parts of childhood are the unscheduled moments that happen. Those moments of digging in the dirt in the yard, or making a funny skit with a friend, or playing freeze tag until dusk on a summer night, these are the things I want so badly for my boys. I want them to walk a couple blocks to a friend’s house and feel a sense of security and freedom all at once. I want them to discover that they are able to navigate things without our help all of the time.

I want them to make a bad decision once in a while so that they know when they make a good one. I want them to find a frog in a stream, ride bikes and stay out long enough to hear the crickets calling them home. I’m starting to realize that I need to pop the bubble and allow my children to walk out in the big wide world without me. I will most likely be hiding behind a tree watching them for the first few times but I know in my gut that allowing them to discover a little bit of the world around them will help them when they eventually go out into it all on their own one day. It turns out that my hopes for the future have turned into a longing for the past. 

Oh The People You Meet

If you didn’t already know the winter here in the Northeast was brutal this year. BRUTAL.  We had more snow than we knew what to do with. Quite literally we ran out of places to put the white stuff and the temperatures were so cold there came a point that I considered moving anywhere that was above freezing.

I would have agreed to a Teepee on the equator. As all parents know winter brings some challenges when you have young children. Perhaps the biggest challenge is the lack of space for them to run and jump and bounce off of things like the hyper beings that they are.  

We made it though. We have come out the other side and the sun is finally shining. Spring is here and everyone and their mother, brother, sister’s boyfriend, Grandpa, and dog have headed outside to soak it in. I always love seeing everyone after a long winter. It’s like a bunch of people coming out of hibernation all at once.

The other day was no exception. The meteorologist said we were going to get up to almost 70 degrees and I immediately thought to myself that we were going to spend every minute of the day out in the fresh air. My three year old asked if we could go to the library and I quickly agreed. We needed to return some books and the library by us happens to have a fantastic playground so it was a great idea.

IT WAS A GREAT IDEA, until we actually got there. We arrived and to my delight it wasn’t crowded at all so we quickly returned our books, picked out a few new ones and headed out to the playground. There was one other mom and her son playing so there was plenty of room for my three year old to run and play while I found a spot on a bench to read a book for a bit. 
Do you hear that? That’s the sound of the entire plan coming to a screeching halt. You see it turns out that the other little boy was not really cool with the idea of sharing an entire playground with another child. He quickly became very aggressive with my son. Just as I was about to intervene; his mother screamed at the top of her lungs, “Good grief Johnny let the damn kid play on the damn playground with you. Why are you such a psycho??!!”

Yes. You read that right. Those were her words. I was uncomfortable but not quite in a We need to get the hell out of here way just yet. She began walking towards me. Sure at this point my flight instincts were beginning to kick in and they were telling me I should have worn running sneakers because at some point I was going to want to high tail it out of there, but I remained seated. I quickly learned she was not only a loud talker but a close talker. Yay! “I’m sorry my kid is so annoying. He’s hmm how would you put it? He’s not aggressive. He’s more like a sociopath.”

Just nod and smile, nod and smile. I’m on a playground with a woman who just shouted to a stranger that her child is a sociopath. I looked up and my son was happily climbing the stairs to the slide. The woman looked up at her son and shouted, “Hey listen when grandpa comes back outside he’s going to watch you so that I can go into the LIBERRY real quick okay?” “Yeah okay whatever.” He replied. There I sat thinking to myself LIBRARY not LiBERRY but I digress. Soon enough an older gentleman appeared from the library doors and I quickly learned he too enjoys shouting for the entire world to hear what he has to say.

“Hey!! We have to go. NOW!” 

“Why? We aren’t ready to go. I want to go into the Liberry real quick.”

“I waited too long. I pooped my pants.” Oh dear god.

“Oh don’t worry about it. No one will notice we are outside.” I will notice. Me. The person sitting on the bench OUTSIDE will notice.

“No it’s all over my damn pants. Give me the keys I will go change and come back and get you.”

She handed him the keys to her minivan and if you’re anything like me you are now thinking Ewe he sat on her seat with poop on his damn pants.

“Okay here take the keys. Hurry up though I don’t want to be here all day.”

“Don’t worry I’m not going to shower I’m just going to change my pants.” I’m worried. For the love please take a shower. Don’t rush. Do us all a favor and DO NOT RUSH!

She turned and started to walk towards me and it was then that I decided it was time to go. I was not about to sit there and talk to her about what I had just witnessed. No sir. I looked up at my son and he looked at me and it was the first time ever that when I said it was time to go he didn’t argue or beg to stay for just a little while longer. When we got into the car he looked at me and said, “Mommy what was that about? Did that man really poop in his pants?”

I could not even answer him because I started laughing so hard.  I’m happy winter is over and I’m super excited that spring has arrived but I think we are going to remain in our backyard for the next two weeks until everyone gets used to socializing in public again. I’m fairly confident the only person pooping outside at our house will be the dog and he is not a loud or close talker so it's really a no brainer.