boys and girls
August 24, 2011 § Leave a comment
It begins somewhere between the monkey bars and the swing set. The first strings of school yard rhymes caution there exists an imbalance of power. Girls rule, boys drool. Little boys pull our pig tails and tease us into tears while we feign disinterest and annoyance through batted eyelashes and half smiles. Is it any wonder we grow up questioning each other’s intentions?
Courtship is full of feigned interests and exaggerated displays of patience and affection. Long before we had children, my husband and I were the center of each other’s happiness. We were fascinated by the otherwise illogical intricacies of our thoughts. I would infer meaning, assuming my husband intended subtext. Alternately, my husband would hear my thoughts like newspaper headlines. The need to communicate respect and understanding, concern and appreciation were greater than the words between us.
Then we had children. My husband spends his days running a business, juggling decisions and creating goals. I spend my days as a homemaker, similarly juggling decisions and creating goals. Lately, our minds distracted with the business of our days, I find myself wondering what he means, questioning why he said that or thinking I don’t think he understands.
Today I am looking for a reference guide, my husband lives on Mars and I speak Jupiter.
school daze
August 23, 2011 § Leave a comment
Yesterday morning I walked my daughter hand-in-hand down our tree lined street to the cozy elementary school nestled in our neighborhood to meet her new teacher for the coming school year. It is the first time we have walked to school without her big brother. Mindful of my son’s absence, the sidewalk felt too wide without his company. Memories of years past were ever-present with each new step.
My son is transitioning to Middle School and this milestone has brought both anticipation and anxiety. While he moves towards a new experience his sister is lonely for the shared space of their school days. Mealtimes are peppered with her concerns for his absence, what was theirs has become her own. No longer identifying herself as her big brother’s sister in school, the shade of his company has left her feeling exposed without his shadow. She will do well, the change will soon become familiar. She is adjusting.
Mornings will begin earlier, this is an unavoidable challenge given my son’s difficulty falling asleep at night. Waking early today in preparation for the week ahead, our movements felt forced; my son seemed to sleepwalk, awkwardly stumbling through simple tasks. I immediately longed for familiar mornings of pancakes and play time before school.
One more day. In the morning my son will find his way to the bus stop and join his friends and classmates. No longer will he walk two steps ahead of me with his nose tucked into a book. It is both exciting and terrifying letting go. I smile, breath held, and guide both children toward change.
Tomorrow new routines will create new normals for each of us. Today backpacks and new shoes sit by the door as quietly as our hopes and fears unspoken.
darcy & jo
August 20, 2011 § 1 Comment
My childhood was filled with books; the pages of well-loved stories scattered across summers and tucked inside stolen moments. In trying to lend my children aliases in this space, I am borrowing names of childhood friends among the pages of my past.
From an early age my son has walked confidently on a path of his own choosing. He is eloquent, gifted in the art of language beyond his years, and sentimental with Victorian mannerisms. His dimpled smile, innocent of its charm, lends humor to his otherwise serious disposition. I watch my Mr. Darcy with Pride, but then as his mother I am entirely Prejudice.
My daughter Jo is a leader of Little Women. Having an older brother she is eager to be his equal, unrestrained by lady-like expectations. Her heart is as large as her dreams, and she guards them both behind spirited bravado. Mindful of our expectations as her parents, she endeavors to perform expected tasks committed by a sense of responsibility born of love. Headstrong and devoted she is passionately loyal.
Similarities aside, my children’s personalities extend beyond the margins of my childhood companions; they are complicated characters, my Darcy and Jo.
pulling teeth
August 9, 2011 § 1 Comment
In teaching my children to think critically, at some point they hold me accountable. Normally, I embrace the challenge. On occasion, I avoid it like my dentist.
When scheduling my children’s dentist appointments, my daughter asked me when do I go to the dentist. “When you are in school,” I bluffed. She studied my face closely and then knowingly said, “I hope so. That would only be fair.” It was right up there with catching me eating a cupcake for breakfast or running with scissors. I knew that she knew.
What my children do not know is that I am terrified of the dentist. I have never met an unkind dentist, I just cannot find anything pleasant about the experience and thereby immaturely exercise the power entrusted to me as an adult to avoid what I want to, because I am a grown-up now and no one can make me. Back to what they don’t know can’t hurt them.
My children also do not know who I vote for. I am determined that they grow up learning to gather information, balance their own values and priorities against those of politicians, and think for themselves rather than rely on what political party their father or I identify with. This is actually great fun come election time. My son is determined to “out” me and cleverly poses various questions designed to make me identify with a candidate. I put on my Devil’s Advocate hat and debate the opposite side of each coin until my son calls a truce and retreats to construct new questions.
Tomatoes and mushrooms. I do not like these in various forms, but my children are unaware. That’s right, I refuse to have them shun a food until they try it. Once they try it, if they can explain what they do not like about something, I am willing to honor their unique likes and dislikes.
I will confess, they do know I do not like snakes and their father feels equally uncomfortable around spiders. Otherwise, I am a mystery. Getting me to share would be like pulling teeth.
silent clapping
August 8, 2011 § Leave a comment
I am a noisy quiet person which is to say I may appear reserved (I smile and nod a lot), but internally I am bouncing up and down clapping. For example, when I see a friend, I am silently clapping. There was one occasion when reunited with my high school best friend that I did, in fact, bounce and clap across a parking lot almost toppling her with enthusiasm. That moment aside, I typically keep a lid on my crazy.
Ironically, I am drawn to personalities that are boisterous and outgoing. I settle into their noise and my heart is peaceful in their company. My husband is a good example. He is a natural storyteller, capable of capturing others’ attention with tones and gestures mindful to exclude the mundane and exaggerate comic gems; inciting laughter with ease. Similarly, I have friends that will spontaneously wrap me in a bear hug or alternately declare an opinion with bravado. I am fairly certain others are aware of the invisible spotlight of confidence that seems to follow these individuals casting a warm glow that draws you into their company. I love watching these people because, like my children, their hearts are limitless and their minds are brilliant, wildly entertaining, open books.
On rare occasions, quiet people make me noisy. Uncomfortable without the balance of noise, I fill the empty spaces talking incessantly. This happens most often with new people, uncertain in moments of quiet, I nervously chatter without breathing and gesture wildly with my hands. Once familiar, I tend to retreat comfortably into a quieter self. The exception was a friend’s birthday dinner where I felt so uncertain surrounded by new personalities, that I smiled and nodded my way through a five-hour meal. I am content in the background, enjoying the effervescent company of the people I love and silently clapping.
how to
August 7, 2011 § Leave a comment
Stranded at the grocery store, hiding out from a spontaneous torrential downpour, I grabbed a cup of coffee and parked my cart in the magazine aisle. I began browsing various covers in search of a distraction. I had unwittingly stumbled in to the “how to” section of the grocery store.
How to: lose weight, get fit, raise happy kids, make a quilt, prepare a meal, choose a hairstyle, scrapbook, find a bargain, buy the perfect pair of jeans, take a vacation, retire, get married, give birth, buy a car, remodel a room. Endless, unsolicited advice sandwiched between children’s themed magazines and auto magazines.
My mind, assaulted with directions, I began to second guess my own instincts. I felt compelled to gather and compile information for now, down the road, just in case. The sky cleared as I was trying to determine if I should move further down the aisle to the books. Happy to escape the pressure of making a choice I switched gears and checked out, content as is.
individual inspiration
August 6, 2011 § Leave a comment
One person, inspiring a connection that forever changes the trajectory of a lifetime. I wonder, who would that be for each of us?
For some it could be a spiritual connection. Identifying with a belief that transpires time and fosters faith, unseen and universal. A sense of belonging to an ideology that draws strangers together in worship and action.
Perhaps others would make a romantic connection, identifying “The One.” A first love, old love, new love, unrequited love, or spouse. Finding a sense of belonging in another.
As a mother I cannot imagine my life without my children. There is an innocent, all-consuming love; their joy and pain felt as my own.
Friendship, platonic love that shelters us in moments of difficulty and celebrates us; guides us and balances us. The kind souls that we turn to without hesitation for understanding even when we cannot find words.
Then there is self-love. What if we never met ourselves; accepted our challenges and acknowledged our strengths? Would other relationships be the same if we never truly knew ourselves?
I am hesitant to place the burden of my destiny in another. I cannot imagine my story without the multitude of personalities that have led me to the present moment. I wonder, can anyone choose one person or identify one relationship that changes everything?
a walk in the park
August 5, 2011 § Leave a comment
The day of our second family photograph session was filled with the same humor, fun, and good intentions that compose our days outside the lens. I debated detailing the day, but thought perhaps I need this reminder to revisit next year.
Good intentions began early, with a mother-daughter moment. Last year, Rapunzel inspired my daughter to begin growing her chin length bob to fairytale proportions. At present her shoulder length hair is typically a tangled nightmare of defiance against all my endeavors to tame her tresses. My daughter hides behind the thick curtain of her hair and I was eager that our photographs capture her expressive features. Unpracticed at braiding I enlisted a stylist for a quick and simple braid to sweep my daughter’s features into the forefront while still allowing the remainder of her hair to fall comfortably, that she would feel at ease. I did this approximately 9 hours before our session to an active 7-year-old. Lesson: The braid was a good idea. The appointment was too early.
My daughter prematurely prepped and still uncertain what I should wear, we stopped by a store for a simple summer dress. I was rewarded with an adorable, white sundress that would blend quietly into my family’s wardrobe. The fit was perfect, but the cost unreasonable. I was working hard to choreograph an image rather than embracing myself as is. I set aside the dress and settled for my familiar summer uniform of shorts and a top. Lesson: Be yourself. Costumes not required. Smiles should be more prominent than clothing.
Feeling a little distracted by the details, I ran to shake off my anxiety. My hair previously styled for the day was slick with sweat. I raced through washing and drying my hair, primping and fussing. Then I made water balloons. I sat outside, sweating from the heat and sprayed with water from a stubborn hose filling tiny plastic balloons. Much to my children’s delight I released them to our backyard to burn off their own pent-up energy in a water war. Lesson: Make time to play. Happy children are more relaxed.
Picture time came just hours before sunset. Between grassy locations and mosquitoes we settled into ourselves in the company of a friend. This is my greatest indulgence, having someone who knows the best pieces of my family using her lens to guide the camera. My children opened up to her and I relaxed in her company. I will inevitably fret over my own image, but I know without a doubt that the images will reflect the humor, fun, and good intentions of our days as a family. Lesson: Bring a friend. Schedule outdoor photographs for after the first frost to avoid pesky pests.
At day’s end our session was a walk in the park, filled with happy discoveries.
for better
August 5, 2011 § Leave a comment
My cousin toasted her parents’ wedding anniversary with words of gratitude for her mother and father’s choice to dedicate themselves to one another through everyday commitments of selflessness and effort. My aunt and uncle are celebrating their 49th anniversary. In honor of this happy occasion, I paused to reflect on my cousin’s words.
I have always held romantic notions of those couples peeking from the pages of the newspaper; strangers in black and white images frozen in time from the moment of “I do” then projected into the present, mirrored body language and content smiles bookends to decades of a shared journey. As I replace my fictional story lines for strangers with simple truths gathered from my own experiences and observations, my cousin’s words resonated. Selflessness and effort.
Another couple, celebrating an anniversary just shy of my aunt and uncle’s, strain to hide unhappiness behind smiles. They are bound by different choices; holding tightly to thoughts of hurt, blame, and entitlement. Looking for moments of selflessness and effort between this couple, I could not find a good deed without a bill of acknowledgment. This truth comes free of judgment, but with the eyes of a woman who wants to step cautiously, mindful of my own path.
My husband and I are novices. Still, I hope this reminder born of celebration accompanies us into our future and that years from now our own photos will reflect a choice well lived. Marriage is indeed a lifetime gesture of faith, an unending lesson in patience, and a journey shared. The gift of selflessness, nurturing one another with kindness and compassion, as well as the gift of effort, ever mindful that each day requires a renewed vow to meet both the predictable and unknown endeavoring to give one’s best. Congratulations to my aunt and uncle on their special day; and to their loved ones whose lives more beautiful for lessons shared.
blank
August 4, 2011 § 2 Comments
I close my eyes and get lost in a song; read a novel and cast my own characters in each role. So, do we need to connect photographs to posts to draw interest?
I intentionally avoided images, hoping to more completely portray experiences with words. Sometimes I feel our eyes distract us from subtle details. Creating images with words became a personal challenge; using language as my medium.
Similarly, I do not watch movies that are interpretations of well-loved books. I prefer to imagine scenes unfolding rather than depend on another’s interpretation to create a unique vision.
This said, with a humble appreciation for irony, I must confess I am drawn to posts with beautiful or interesting images. I find the use of images both inspiring and encouraging as instruments of instruction in food blogs. Some of the photographs tucked into travel blogs draw me into another world and leave me lustful for exotic places.
It is a peculiar contradiction; a picky personal preference I suppose. I wonder if I have overlooked or undervalued the use of photographs in my blog.
