Cleaning out my study, cleaning out my life...

I have decided to venture forth and conduct a thorough clean out of our study/guestroom. Why, you ask, is this such a big deal?
 

I’m so glad you asked. I’ll tell you. 

Our study is a catastrophe. A veritable black hole of crap that has no home and therefore has been dumped into the room for which mess and disorganization has the least impact. It’s a black hole of papers that are no longer relevant, wrapping paper that we never liked anyway and books that we haven’t looked at in years. And that’s being modest. Simply opening a drawer resembles traveling back in time to projects and priorities past. I actually found paystubs from 2006, neatly sorted and stapled. Seriously? THAT’S going to be helpful to hold onto. Uh huh…  

In the back of my mind, on that long term “to do” list of life, cleaning out the study is always towards the top of the list. I frequently squash it back down because it feels uncomfortable to contemplate that which I should do and don’t. After all, I can just close the door and pretend it’s not there. Right? 

And I’m not saying that I don’t have a good excuse. I do. But I don’t. My life is busy. I have two kids and a life that never stops moving. My house’s current, daily needs trump those needs that can be disregarded without immediate negative consequence. Should I make dinner or clean the study? Hmmm… Laundry or clean the study? Hmmm…. Should I read with the kids or clean the study? Hmmmm…. The immediate need always wins out, and it should. In reality, we need a hot dinner and clean clothing significantly more than we need a clean, organized study. My kids need a hands-on mom more than they need a clean study. 

But is that healthy? To what degree? 

I had a falling out with a friend about 6 months ago. This is highly significant because I’m not the kind of person who has “falling outs” with people. When I called another long time friend to talk about it, she was shocked. She actually asked me to repeat myself because we were on cell phones with mediocre reception and she thought she had misunderstood what I said. She asked me if I had ever had a friendship end abruptly. “Not since middle school” I answered. 

And it’s true. I say this not be brag or present myself as perfect. It’s simply the truth. I have lost friends over time as interests or priorities shift, but I have never “broken up” with a friend. At least not since middle school. 

So when this friend “broke up” with me, I was taken aback. I had felt the drifting, but I hadn’t perceived the drifting to be significant enough to warrant a break up. Decreased time together, sure. Total abrupt end? Not so much. 

And I’ll tell you the truth… I was upset.

In hindsight, however, I’d like to say “thank you” to this former friend. In a bizarre sort of way, she knew something that I did not. She knew that she was not a good friend for me. She harbored stress in ways and quantities that were toxic to my state of being, whether she knew it or not. She was competitive in situations where I didn’t even see a race. She was frequently abrupt in situations that I felt warranted smiles and finesse. Her life goals were so different from mine that conversations had become incompatible.

And maybe that mess in my study is the same. An energy sucking force of mess and chaos, driving me to distraction and discomfort. Perhaps we are supposed to clean out our lives from time to time, and be ruthless about it. 

You know… leave the past behind us.

A little tummy rub...

My husband and I are affectionate people. It’s part of who we are, both as ourselves and in our relationship with each other. We use touch to communicate affection, support, agreement and overall positive thought.  It’s not astounding that this habit has passed on to our children. My son was cuddly from day one but my daughter took some months to learn how to truly appreciate and utilize the affection she was receiving. These years later, this is still somewhat true. My son is a cuddle monkey, to the core. My daughter picks her moments to cuddle when she chooses, but does a spectacular job at those times.

During TV time in the afternoon/evening, the kids like to lay themselves all over us to get various parts of their body tickled. Backs, legs, heads, feet, even tummies. You name it; they love to have it tickled. They wiggle themselves into the perfect position and then let their eyes glaze over in contentment as they lay there in an exhausted stupor. With the disappearance of nap, this time of day has become even more essential to their emotional well being, which is not shocking because at the end of the day they are TIRED!.

The other day, my daughter and I took a shower together. This is not uncommon. As the kids get older, the incidences of them jumping into the shower with mom or dad have increased, replacing the more frequent baths of the past.

So, we’re in the shower and my daughter places her little hand gently on my tummy.

Me: “Hey honey. Whatcha doing?”

Her:  (Smiling at me happily) “I’m tickling your tummy (and she starts to tickle). Do you like it?”

Me: “Yes, honey. I do. It feels nice. Thank you. “

Her: “(smiling even bigger) “oh good. Then I’ll do it some more”.

It’s fair to say that I teared up a little. She wanted to make her mommy happy, so she chose to reciprocate in a way that makes HER happy. How wonderful.

And then I had another thought.

I’ll be honest and confess that I do not have a flat tummy. Not even close. No fashion magazine is begging for me to bear myself scantily clad on the cover of their latest issue. I struggled with weight before kids and giving birth to twins did not help. That said, while I strive for my children to have healthy bodies, I do not want to pass on body issues. The fact that I’d like to lose some weight for health reasons is another issue entirely, valid in a totally different discussion.

I could have asked my daughter to leave my pudge alone, or found a reason for her to not touch the parts of my body that cosmetic America say aren’t trim enough. I could have commented that I was fat or even indicated that I didn’t like my body because of the impact she and her brother had upon it. I could have said all these things, but I didn’t. And I’m glad I didn’t.

I want her to like her body, just the way it is. She’s got a beautiful little body. And I’m leading by example.

An encounter with my former self...

I went to target the other night. I didn’t really want to go but I had a few items that I simply had to cross off the “to do” list. It was late. Ok, late by my current standards. 9:30pm. (Yes, I do know that my college self would be appalled by this statement. That was when we used to head out for the night. ) I’d been with my kids all day and then rushed out to the door to tutor immediately after they hit the sack. I enjoy the tutoring and wouldn’t stop, but it does make for a long day. 

As I headed out the door, close to 10pm, my feet were dragging and I started dreaming about my pillow. A tiny, silent complaint began to rise, begrudging the fact that I had to shop so LATE. And then I reached my car and I saw them. Or rather, I heard them. 

Parked diagonally across from my car, facing me, was a car full of teenagers. A soft top jeep with music blasting. Windows wide open.  I didn’t’ recognize the song (yeah… big shock there) and I couldn’t make out the words (even bigger shock…) but I did catch a few words of the main chorus. 

“Parking lot party!”

The kids were talking, dancing and singing along. They were having a great time. Totally beyond my control, I started to smile. Smile huge. 

That was me, once upon a time. That was totally me.

My friends and I always played our music too loud. We laughed a little too joyously in public places and we rarely cared what those “old folks” thought of us. We had the right to be happy in our lives, just as we were.  

These kids weren’t drunk, or at least they showed no signs of being. They gave no indications that they planned to vandalize anything. I heard no profanity. They were simply being kids. Living large.

One of the girls in the backseat of the jeep noticed me and smiled, waved. She quickly and easily assessed that my observation of her group was nonjudgmental. The driver, a boy, thought I had said something and turned the music down low. He called out the window with a friendly and respectful smile. “Hi. Did you just say something?” 

I smiled back and responded, laughing. “No, but I was just watching you guys. I used to do that and when I realized how long ago it was I started to feel old”. The kids all laughed and the boy looks straight at me, still smiling. “You should do it more often, then!” And he turned the music back up, recommenced singing. When I pulled out of the parking lot a minute or so later, the kids all waved to me. I waved back. 

He’s right. I should do that more often. Ok, maybe not THAT, but something that has nothing to do with my life as a mom of two young kids and co-owner of a time and money consuming house. Something that has nothing to do with laundry and food shopping.  I should dance more, simply because I like the music I hear. I should go out for drinks more often and “hang out” with my friends when we are banned from talking about anything child related. 

Amazing what you can learn from a teenager.

Dora the hero!

A while back, when my kids began enjoying toddler/young kid programming, Dora and Diego both rose to the top of the list rapidly. Much to my chagrin, I frequently found myself humming the Dora theme song while I made dinner, unaware that I was doing it. It struck me as one of those “You know you’re a mom when… “ moments. My husband jokingly commented that our kids were going to develop a stutter (D-D-D-D-D- Dora) and that we should sue Nickelodeon. It was pretty amusing. 

I heard once that you should always watch what your kids are watching, at least in the beginning. Watch the characters and ask yourself the following question. “Am I content with my child emulating this character?” Given how much children learn from everything they observe, this is definitely wisdom. 

And when I asked myself this very question, in regards to Dora and Diego, the answer was a resounding YES. 

Dora is sweet. She’s loving and honest. She is devoted to her best friend, Boots, and she always speaks nicely to her parents. She loves adventures and uses a map to be sure that she knows where to go. Oh, and she ALWAYS wears a seatbelt for safety. Sure, she under supervised, but I can live with that considering her biggest predator is Swiper the fox, and he’s easy to scare off. Besides, her backpack is always prepped and ready. 

Diego is slightly more adventurous, and significantly less supervised than Dora, but he’s a pretty cool kid. He’s kind to animals and always makes sure that mommy and babies are reunited safely. He’s never aggressive and always respects the space of the animals and people around him. His rescue pack is enviable in its ability to transform. I’d pay good money for one like that. 

The plot, while insanely formulaic, is productive and positive. It’s always about helping or saving something, and all the characters join together to facilitate the success of the character in need. That view on life is not to be taken lightly. Many adults could use a few lessons. 

My kids are not the most physically adventurous kids. This is not shocking as they were late walkers who outnumbered their physically cautious mom (as twins). We started playgrounds on the later side and I have a hard time holding back from saying “be careful” at times when I should simply keep my mouth closed.

Dora and Diego, however, have taught them to harbor less fear. While they used to avoid the high points of swing set towers, they now clamber as high as possible because it provides the best view for Diego (the animal rescuer) to spot the animal in trouble. They slide down the slides to catch said animal, even when that slide is faster than they anticipated the first time. 

Last week, we took the kids on a walk and my son found himself in a position to clamber up a steep (by his standards) hill. My husband was behind him and I was at the top of the hill, so I had a clear view of his face. Or should I say his fear? I called out to him, and when he looked at me I grinned and shouted “Go Diego Go!”  The fear fell from his face. Instantly. He called back to me, “Go Diego Go!” and began to climb with confidence. He made it to the top with no problem and a triumphant grin. 

My daughter enjoys looking at maps, asking where they go.  I suspect that I, in part, have Dora to thank for her increased interest. 

My only slight hesitation with these shows is the nagging worry of gender stereotypes. Dora is much softer while Diego is significantly more rough and tumble. Part of me wonders if this is a wise idea, telling children what “real girl” or “real boy” looks like and how they behave. 

But that’s a battle for another day. And a much larger societal issue. We’ll come back to that later.

A distinctly different childhood

My husband and I took our children out hiking today, in the local state park. And I do mean local, because it’s 5 minutes away. What a blessing to live so close to nature at its best. The park is relatively big by east coast standards, with multiple entrances. The furthest one, I believe, is more than 20 minutes away.

But I digress. 

The section of the park, closest to our house, hosts a stream and a trail that takes you past a waterfall. The waterfall itself is pretty, and worth the trip, but the stream is by far the best part. After a moderate amount of rain, it flows nicely with a relatively slow current. The rocks are stable enough to walk on safely if you watch your footing and the water isn’t ridiculously cold. Just cold enough to offset the heat of a humid day. Perfection. 

We arrived after lunch and took the kids up the slope to the waterfall. They thought it was cool, but weren’t satisfied. They wanted to keep climbing up, and were undeterred by the need to wade through the water to reach the subsequent section of the trail. So, with 8 wet feet, we continued onward and upward. By my husband’s estimation using the map, we traveled approximately one mile each way and heard little to no complaints. At times the water was waist or chest deep for the kids, either because of their height or because they slipped and fell into the water while walking. They laughed. Yes, you read it correctly. They laughed, reached for an adult hand to get back up and kept on going. 

Words cannot express how proud this made me.

The comedy of the day came when my daughter proclaimed (loudly, as I was more than 100 yards away), that she had to pee and started pulling down her pants. I had explained to her, at the start of the walk, that she couldn’t poop in the water but she could pee. And that she should, if she felt the need. I grinned at the lady next to me, and stated “That’s my girl”. Then I went to help her. It was awesome. We have hopes for her peeing in the woods. 

This was not my childhood. Now, don’t get me wrong. I am not criticizing my parents, in any way, shape or form. My parents did a wonderful job exposing me to a wonderful and adventurous world. They took my brother and I traveling all over the world and exposed us to art, music and culture. They sent us to camps that focused on our passions and paid for my dance and my brother’s sports. As a parent, I now know just how expensive these hobbies are and how hard my parents had to work to make sure we had these opportunities. I was afforded the opportunity to study overseas three times between the ages of 16 and 24.  When I was 13 years old, my mother took me to New York City to see Baryshnikov dance.  We went to see the Nutcracker more times than I can count. 

I was a lucky kid. 

But adventurous, outdoor activities were not on my agenda as a kid. And that’s ok. My kids, however, will have a childhood full of outdoors and adventure. They will get wet and dirty, on a regular basis, and their memories of the process that made them that way will be nostalgic. I think that’s wonderful and I feel very content that I play a role in ensuring that this continues. 

I guess that’s what it means to be a parent. I like it.