This weekend, we took a day trip to Sonoma. I’ve always preferred Sonoma to Napa for a few reasons. One, I’m not a huge wine drinker. I’m allergic to all red wines, can’t drink too much white wine without getting a headache, and prefer shopping to wine tasting any day. Sonoma, though much smaller, has much more appeal to me. It’s nice that we can drive to the town square, park (free) and spend the majority of the day doing just about everything we’d like (eat, shop, wine tasting, etc). If we want to visit other wineries, there are some beautiful places not too far from the square (as opposed to driving between all wineries, all day, in Napa).
Saturday, we didn’t stray at all from our normal routine. We arrived in Sonoma just before lunch, parked, and immediately went to the Cheese Factory. There, we bought several cheeses, crackers, salami, and olives, a couple of drinks and headed across the street for a picnic. Kaelyn had a wonderful time playing and rolling around the grass and we got some lovely pictures of her.
After lunch, we went to a couple of our favorite antique shops around the square as well as the kitchen store. I could spend hours in these places. One of the antique stores had some beautiful old doors from Northern China. …about 250 years old…that had been converted into free standing partitions. I immediately fell in love with them. I have been looking for a way to visually delineate my dining room and living room and these are perfect. To make it even better, my dining room chairs are also antiques from the same era and region of Northern China. The table, though new, was made to match the chairs and these partitions are similar in style and carvings…the stain is different, but the wood is the same (Elm). I couldn’t believe that we found something that will work so well! Of course, they were much more than we really wanted to spend, but after some discussion and going home to measure, we decided to buy them. I can’t wait until they arrive!
After shopping, we visited some small wine tasting rooms and then decided to drive out of the square to the Olive Press. The Olive Press is similar to a winery (actually located within a winery), but instead of wine, they make olive oil. I wanted to get a couple of bottles of my favorites and see if they had anything new we could try (they didn’t). The Olive Press is another reason why I prefer Sonoma to Napa!
We got home around 5pm, a little tired, but totally revved up. Roger bbq’d dinner and we relaxed the rest of the evening…staying up until around 2am for some reason.
Sunday was hot…well into the 100’s to 110’s and over. I love this heat. Much better than the cold spring we just had. But it was so hot, that none of us really wanted to spend any time outside. Normally, I can handle the hot weather if I have an ice cold drink and sit in the shade, but yesterday, I resigned myself to spending the day inside. We pretty much relaxed…Kaelyn has some new tricks now that she stands and I spent a good part of the day doing some research of symptoms for fluid on the brain. Kaelyn has none of these. Another call to the doctor to get some questions answered and I’m now convinced that this referral is just precautionary protocol (I both love and hate the hospital for this policy. Good on one hand to catch things early, bad for the amount of needless worrying they put me through). Although I won’t relax completely until after her appointment, I feel much better and am (almost) convinced that she does not have fluid on her brain and is just a big-headed baby!
Monday, June 28, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Stone Cold
Back in April, I had to take a class for work and one of the requirements was to complete a Strength Finders Test. I had never taken one of these before and although they say only take it when you have 45 minutes of uninterrupted time (yeah right), I took it at work, with a million interruptions and distractions. So, it didn't surprise me when I got my results and didn't 100% agree with them. Strength Finders likes to focus on your top 10 "talents" and some of mine were as expected....communication, #1 analytical thinking #6, responsibility #4. But others surprised me. Most notably was harmony #2 and interprative #3....these two things are representative of someone who avoids conflict and likes clutter. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I embrace conflict and hate hate hate clutter!
The test came with some interpreters to help us see that their assessment was truly representative of us. In the end, they decided that although I don't fear conflict and definitely don't go out of my way to avoid it, I do work hard to resolve it and use it to everyone's benefit. This is because I'm a Libra, but I don't want to mix my philosophies. As for the clutter...they couldn't come up with anything good other than I must be a closet slob...nope! In the end, they latched on to the fact that I save every single one of my emails and file them and that is why I scored high...interestingly, not a single question on the test had anything to do with electronically filing and I regularly clean out my inbox because I hate having more than 10 messages not filed at the end of the work day...I know, anal.
What was the most shocking to me though, was my weakness...out of 30 "talents" my #30 was empathy. I'm embarrassed about that and have been thinking about it a lot in the last few months. There are quite a few people out there that will say that I'm cold, private, and unsympathetic to the woes of this world. That's not entirely true, but I do have to give credit where credit is due. I took this test with work in mind and it's true, then when I'm at work, I am not who I am at home. I can't be. At work, I have one mission and one goal and that is to get the job done. Period. If I am at work, then that is my focus. And I expect that everyone else at work is prepared to let go of their personal life for 8 hours and focus on getting the job done, getting paid, and moving on to the next thing. I don't ask others a lot of questions about what happens outside of work. I am private when it comes to my private life. Work is my public life. It's different. I don't like to make friends at work, even though I like pretty much everyone there. Although there are a few exceptions of people I just really really enjoy being around, I tend to gravitate away from my career field when making my true friends. I love that separation. I need it. I'm so good at separating these two things that I could reprimand someone at work, threaten to fire them if they don't start producing more, and refuse to listen to any excuses of why they aren't performing and ten minutes later, after work, send them an anonymous donation of $200 because I know they are paying their mother's medical bills (I've done this.) While some would say it's a contradiciton, I say it's a necessary separation. It's how I operate.
Back to empathy. Outside of work, it's totally different. Anyone, friend or not, could tell me their troubles and it will literally hurt my heart. I will do anything I can to help them. "It's not my problem" is my matra at work, but those words don't exist in my personal life. There are people in my life that just can't imagine that I can be cold and uncaring, mean, yelling, anything negative. There are other people in my life that think my heart is made of coal.
The one area where I am totally weak...where I have no control over my emotions, where I will destroy myself before I let anything happen to her...my daughter. Yesterday was her 9 month well-baby check up. Roger took her. I got the usual report, she's catching up in weight and height. She's healthy. Any concerns about her delays in gross motor skills are now gone that she is regularly standing on her own. But, there is something else....she has a large head. I have always known this. It was never a concern before. She's a preemie...she's developing her brain first, Roger has a big head. She looks proportional, everything is fine. Excpet that yesterday the doctor decided to recommend an ultrasound, just to take a look and see if her head growth is normal for her or if there's something else. That something else...fluid on the brain. I had to pry that out of them. They didn't want to tell me. Because, she has no other symptoms. She's developing normally, she's happy, she's growing and thriving and there's no bulge on her soft spot which is a big indication of fluid. But, why not be sure? I know. Nothing to worry about at the moment. But me? The possibility of something hurting her is too much for me to take. It breaks me. Literally. If anything is really wrong, it will destroy me. Am I overreacting? Probably. But I can't help it. I'm that entwined in her.
And so I pray. I will do anything and promise anything to have her life be free of challenges. For to be has healthy as she seems to be now. I am nothing but the person that God has chosen to care for her. And I care more than I could ever imagine.
We are going to Sonoma today. I will do my best of focus on what we know...we have a healthy and happy baby. She is going to be fine. Still, I pray.
The test came with some interpreters to help us see that their assessment was truly representative of us. In the end, they decided that although I don't fear conflict and definitely don't go out of my way to avoid it, I do work hard to resolve it and use it to everyone's benefit. This is because I'm a Libra, but I don't want to mix my philosophies. As for the clutter...they couldn't come up with anything good other than I must be a closet slob...nope! In the end, they latched on to the fact that I save every single one of my emails and file them and that is why I scored high...interestingly, not a single question on the test had anything to do with electronically filing and I regularly clean out my inbox because I hate having more than 10 messages not filed at the end of the work day...I know, anal.
What was the most shocking to me though, was my weakness...out of 30 "talents" my #30 was empathy. I'm embarrassed about that and have been thinking about it a lot in the last few months. There are quite a few people out there that will say that I'm cold, private, and unsympathetic to the woes of this world. That's not entirely true, but I do have to give credit where credit is due. I took this test with work in mind and it's true, then when I'm at work, I am not who I am at home. I can't be. At work, I have one mission and one goal and that is to get the job done. Period. If I am at work, then that is my focus. And I expect that everyone else at work is prepared to let go of their personal life for 8 hours and focus on getting the job done, getting paid, and moving on to the next thing. I don't ask others a lot of questions about what happens outside of work. I am private when it comes to my private life. Work is my public life. It's different. I don't like to make friends at work, even though I like pretty much everyone there. Although there are a few exceptions of people I just really really enjoy being around, I tend to gravitate away from my career field when making my true friends. I love that separation. I need it. I'm so good at separating these two things that I could reprimand someone at work, threaten to fire them if they don't start producing more, and refuse to listen to any excuses of why they aren't performing and ten minutes later, after work, send them an anonymous donation of $200 because I know they are paying their mother's medical bills (I've done this.) While some would say it's a contradiciton, I say it's a necessary separation. It's how I operate.
Back to empathy. Outside of work, it's totally different. Anyone, friend or not, could tell me their troubles and it will literally hurt my heart. I will do anything I can to help them. "It's not my problem" is my matra at work, but those words don't exist in my personal life. There are people in my life that just can't imagine that I can be cold and uncaring, mean, yelling, anything negative. There are other people in my life that think my heart is made of coal.
The one area where I am totally weak...where I have no control over my emotions, where I will destroy myself before I let anything happen to her...my daughter. Yesterday was her 9 month well-baby check up. Roger took her. I got the usual report, she's catching up in weight and height. She's healthy. Any concerns about her delays in gross motor skills are now gone that she is regularly standing on her own. But, there is something else....she has a large head. I have always known this. It was never a concern before. She's a preemie...she's developing her brain first, Roger has a big head. She looks proportional, everything is fine. Excpet that yesterday the doctor decided to recommend an ultrasound, just to take a look and see if her head growth is normal for her or if there's something else. That something else...fluid on the brain. I had to pry that out of them. They didn't want to tell me. Because, she has no other symptoms. She's developing normally, she's happy, she's growing and thriving and there's no bulge on her soft spot which is a big indication of fluid. But, why not be sure? I know. Nothing to worry about at the moment. But me? The possibility of something hurting her is too much for me to take. It breaks me. Literally. If anything is really wrong, it will destroy me. Am I overreacting? Probably. But I can't help it. I'm that entwined in her.
And so I pray. I will do anything and promise anything to have her life be free of challenges. For to be has healthy as she seems to be now. I am nothing but the person that God has chosen to care for her. And I care more than I could ever imagine.
We are going to Sonoma today. I will do my best of focus on what we know...we have a healthy and happy baby. She is going to be fine. Still, I pray.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Fathers' Day Weekend and Ravioli (Take Two)
Kaelyn is only 9 months old, but her personality is so huge, it’s hard for me to remember sometimes, when I talk about her, that she is just a little baby. Friday afternoon was the Corps picnic, and Roger and Kae met me there. We had a great time talking with my coworkers, eating the food, and watching the games, but the true life of the party was definitely Kaelyn. She just loves people. She would entertain people standing in line for food by talking to them, clapping for them, etc. She would lean out of my arms to grab the attention of someone walking by. At one point, she literally had a group of small children surrounding her and she “performed” for them. The girl definitely knows how to grab (and hold) attention and she loves it! She gets that from Roger We have a real social butterfly on our hands. I met more people just because she would literally make them come up to us so that she could interact with them. I think, in raising her, I will be challenged to teach her that sometimes it is better to let other people have the spotlight…but that contemplation is for another time.
It was Fathers’ Day weekend and I really wanted to make it special for Roger. Overall, it was relaxing. Because of the picnic, we were home earlier than normal on Friday afternoon. Kaelyn was so exhausted from her “performance”, that she took a long, much needed nap. That left us some time to relax ourselves. I decided to read a book outside while Roger watched some television.
Saturday was pretty much normal for us. We took our time getting out of bed and getting the day started…which is just the way I prefer Saturday’s to go. The only time we left the house, was to go to Toys-R-Us, which we did just for fun, since neither of us had been to one in well over ten years. Let’s just say…a lot has changed since I was a kid. I can’t believe the stuff that kids have now! Roger and I were just awed at how realistic and cool the toys have become! After we got home, I decided to try making homemade mushroom ravioli for the second time, this time incorporating our “lessons learned” from round one. Take two…1000 million times better. It tasted good before, but this time, it was perfect. I love Kitchen Aid! Our friend, Vickie, came over that night as well, so that we could plan out our Vegas trip. It’s always good to hang out with her. We ate dinner, looked at plane tickets, and watched some television. We all stayed up later than planned, but it was so worth it.
Sunday was Fathers’ Day. Originally, we had discussed taking a day trip to Sonoma, but Roger changed his mind when we found out that NASCAR was there…it would just be too crowded. We resolved to try again this next weekend and decided to spend the day relaxing at home. I had bought Roger two cards to go along with his present (one from me and one from Kaelyn). Kaelyn’s card had one of those recording devices in it so that we could leave a personal message. The child does nothing but say “Da Da” all day long. She was singing it just before I tried to do the recording, but of course, as soon as I opened the card and she heard “please record your message after the beep” she shut up. For the first time since she learned to babble…dead quiet. I was finally able to make her say something, though not “da da” and only after I irritated her to the point that she had to let me know. (She is also very good and accurately expressing her emotions)!
After the present, I made Roger a huge breakfast (bacon, eggs, and Belgian waffles). We were so stuffed that we didn’t even think about food again until after our normal dinner time. At Roger’s request, we had Beef Wellington….so, not the best weekend to stick to our diet, but it was special and I’m ok with that.
This was one of those weekends, that insignificant as it may seem, made me realize what a blessing my family is. If it were not for them, this weekend would have been, well, just there. Instead, doing nothing has lead me to some great memories of early family time. I’m truly Blessed!
It was Fathers’ Day weekend and I really wanted to make it special for Roger. Overall, it was relaxing. Because of the picnic, we were home earlier than normal on Friday afternoon. Kaelyn was so exhausted from her “performance”, that she took a long, much needed nap. That left us some time to relax ourselves. I decided to read a book outside while Roger watched some television.
Saturday was pretty much normal for us. We took our time getting out of bed and getting the day started…which is just the way I prefer Saturday’s to go. The only time we left the house, was to go to Toys-R-Us, which we did just for fun, since neither of us had been to one in well over ten years. Let’s just say…a lot has changed since I was a kid. I can’t believe the stuff that kids have now! Roger and I were just awed at how realistic and cool the toys have become! After we got home, I decided to try making homemade mushroom ravioli for the second time, this time incorporating our “lessons learned” from round one. Take two…1000 million times better. It tasted good before, but this time, it was perfect. I love Kitchen Aid! Our friend, Vickie, came over that night as well, so that we could plan out our Vegas trip. It’s always good to hang out with her. We ate dinner, looked at plane tickets, and watched some television. We all stayed up later than planned, but it was so worth it.
Sunday was Fathers’ Day. Originally, we had discussed taking a day trip to Sonoma, but Roger changed his mind when we found out that NASCAR was there…it would just be too crowded. We resolved to try again this next weekend and decided to spend the day relaxing at home. I had bought Roger two cards to go along with his present (one from me and one from Kaelyn). Kaelyn’s card had one of those recording devices in it so that we could leave a personal message. The child does nothing but say “Da Da” all day long. She was singing it just before I tried to do the recording, but of course, as soon as I opened the card and she heard “please record your message after the beep” she shut up. For the first time since she learned to babble…dead quiet. I was finally able to make her say something, though not “da da” and only after I irritated her to the point that she had to let me know. (She is also very good and accurately expressing her emotions)!
After the present, I made Roger a huge breakfast (bacon, eggs, and Belgian waffles). We were so stuffed that we didn’t even think about food again until after our normal dinner time. At Roger’s request, we had Beef Wellington….so, not the best weekend to stick to our diet, but it was special and I’m ok with that.
This was one of those weekends, that insignificant as it may seem, made me realize what a blessing my family is. If it were not for them, this weekend would have been, well, just there. Instead, doing nothing has lead me to some great memories of early family time. I’m truly Blessed!
Monday, June 14, 2010
Message to a Reader
Couldn't post on your blog...
You may be the only person who ever reads this blog…and that’s ok. I have no idea if I actually know you or not, but I want to say this:
In the Quran the number 19 is associated with MERCY and COMPASSION. The fact that you are looking for signs and looking for a message means that you haven’t given up yet. If the number means anything, it means that a woman is not about to lose her husband of 10 years and a 6 year old and 3 year old are not going to lose their father.
MERCY and COMPASSION is what you are seem to be searching for and you are not alone in that search. In order to get it, you must also be willing to give it. Show your family MERCY and stay with them. Keep fighting…for all of you.
You may be the only person who ever reads this blog…and that’s ok. I have no idea if I actually know you or not, but I want to say this:
In the Quran the number 19 is associated with MERCY and COMPASSION. The fact that you are looking for signs and looking for a message means that you haven’t given up yet. If the number means anything, it means that a woman is not about to lose her husband of 10 years and a 6 year old and 3 year old are not going to lose their father.
MERCY and COMPASSION is what you are seem to be searching for and you are not alone in that search. In order to get it, you must also be willing to give it. Show your family MERCY and stay with them. Keep fighting…for all of you.
Poker, Pasta and a Graduation
After work Thursday, I drove to Reno for a Friday morning project meeting. I only make this trip once a month and the meetings are generally short, lasting not much longer than an hour. Even though I enjoy travelling and Reno is not the worst place in the world to spend a night, these trips tend to be my least favorite part of my job. This, mainly because I hate leaving Kaelyn even for just one night.
To make up for this, Roger tends to make a big deal of my return, getting exciting and saying how much they missed me. He does this mostly to get Kaelyn excited, which makes me feel so much better. The first five minutes after my return is my favorite part of the trip. This Friday, I got back much sooner than I had anticipated, and Roger and Kaelyn were able to pick me up around lunch time for an impromptu shopping trip. Of course, when I asked to go shopping it was with an agenda. I’ve been wanting a new toy…the pasta attachment to the Kitchen Aid mixer. I’ve been eyeing this attachment for a long time. I love to cook and I especially love to cook pasta. I’ve always thought that with the right tools (the attachment), making the pasta from scratch would be breeze. I pitched this idea to Roger a while ago, who thought that me making him fresh pasta was an awesome idea and readily agreed to the purchase.
We have been checking these out at a few stores and discovered that pricing was pretty consistent, so on Friday, we chose a store that was located close to my work place and set off. When we got there, we discovered that Kitchen Aid also makes a ravioli attachment. Roger had been asking if we could try to make handmade raviolis and I admit the thought of that was daunting. Seeing a tool to aid me made it seem so much easier, but because it wasn’t part of our plan, I didn’t want to get it. After some talking, justifying, and dreaming if delicious raviolis, we finally decided to get that as well.
Of course, like any child who has just gotten a new toy, I wanted to immediately check out our purchase and start making pasta the second we got home. But…we had a busy weekend ahead of us and that wasn’t possible. Roger was hosting a bbq and poker tournament at our house on Saturday. Getting things ready for that party took priority. To make it more hectic, our good friend Klara was graduating from college the same day. I’ve known since she started school that I would not miss celebrating her graduation for the world. This was both helpful and not to Roger. On one hand, he would be on his own for all food prep the day of the party, but at the same time, I was taking Kae with me to the graduation, so at least she wasn’t going to be a distraction.
Saturday morning was just downright crazy for us. We tried to relax together a little bit before we started getting ready, but with the party starting at 4 and the graduation at 1, there just wasn’t the time. Roger still hadn’t purchased all the meat for the bbq and I needed to do some last minute cleaning. Also, I left most of the menu planning to Roger…this was his event after all. But that proved to be a mistake. Roger likes meat and when planning a bbq, his main focus is on what types of meat to get and how much. At 11am I realized that he had not considered what side dishes or snacks to serve. I ended up running to the store quickly to get vegetables and fruits for snack trays, chips, and some other appetizers we could make quickly. Our friend, Vickie was coming to our house so we could go to the graduation together and when she showed up, I still didn’t have Kae ready to go. We were a little late, but luckily only missed the mingling before the presentations and were able to be seated well before the program actually started.
The graduation was great and I’m happy to say that Kaelyn was well behaved the entire time. We even had a chance to briefly discuss our upcoming trip to Vegas (our graduation gift to Klara). The graduation made us late to the party and by the time I got home, our guests had already started to arrive. Luckily, another friend was able to show up early to help Roger put out the food and he and I are both extremely thankful for her help.
The party went off without a hitch. Roger is a master griller and the food was delicious. The poker tournament was also fun (Roger won…but it was nail biting in the end). We had a great time. The excitement was a lot for Kae, though. She already had a big day and was tired earlier than usual, but refused to go to bed. She’s not the kind of baby that is willing to miss anything! Basically, I had to trick her into going to sleep by laying her on the floor of her room and surround her by toys. I stayed and played with her a little bit, then left her alone leaving the door open so she could still hear the party and see people walk by. I normally hate doing this and am pretty strict about bedtime, but I made an exception. It took her 20 minutes to fall asleep and I was able to get her into bed after that without too much fuss.
Our last guest left around 2am. I was able to get things cleaned up well before then, so there wasn’t really anything to do when he left. Roger and I were both exhausted. We passed out immediately and really wanted to sleep in…unfortunately, Kaelyn still woke up at her usual time.
The good thing about Sunday, though, was that it was pasta day! I was so excited and started planning out what kind of raviolis to make and what sauces to make with them. It took us a while to get started because we were just so drained from the day before. Playing with Kaelyn just seemed so much more fun than making pasta from scratch. But, as we got hungrier and talked about our meal, our motivation quickly returned.
Let me just say that cooking together is a real test and testament of our marriage. Of all the things we do well together, I admit that cooking is not one of them. It’s hard for either of us to take a back seat when we’re in the kitchen. We’ve been able to work things out by working in separate spaces and clearly delineating our responsibilities. Normally, Roger cooks the meat in our outdoor kitchen and I make all the side dishes and sauces inside. We wanted to make the pasta together and somehow convinced ourselves that this would be fun…but, with both of us trying to figure out what to do and having different ideas of how to do it, it turned out to be a disaster. Fortunately, after a small argument and a lot of frustration, we worked out a system and were able to work together to make our raviolis. The end result was delicious, although our technique needs a lot of work. The raviolis didn’t all turn out pretty and it took us much too long to process the dough. Next time, if we work faster and apply our lessons learned, we should do much better. I think tonight, I’ll try to make some fettuccine, which should be much easier.
So, another busy, fun, crazy and exhausting weekend has passed and we’re both ready for another busy, fun, crazy and exhausting work week.
‘Til next time…
To make up for this, Roger tends to make a big deal of my return, getting exciting and saying how much they missed me. He does this mostly to get Kaelyn excited, which makes me feel so much better. The first five minutes after my return is my favorite part of the trip. This Friday, I got back much sooner than I had anticipated, and Roger and Kaelyn were able to pick me up around lunch time for an impromptu shopping trip. Of course, when I asked to go shopping it was with an agenda. I’ve been wanting a new toy…the pasta attachment to the Kitchen Aid mixer. I’ve been eyeing this attachment for a long time. I love to cook and I especially love to cook pasta. I’ve always thought that with the right tools (the attachment), making the pasta from scratch would be breeze. I pitched this idea to Roger a while ago, who thought that me making him fresh pasta was an awesome idea and readily agreed to the purchase.
We have been checking these out at a few stores and discovered that pricing was pretty consistent, so on Friday, we chose a store that was located close to my work place and set off. When we got there, we discovered that Kitchen Aid also makes a ravioli attachment. Roger had been asking if we could try to make handmade raviolis and I admit the thought of that was daunting. Seeing a tool to aid me made it seem so much easier, but because it wasn’t part of our plan, I didn’t want to get it. After some talking, justifying, and dreaming if delicious raviolis, we finally decided to get that as well.
Of course, like any child who has just gotten a new toy, I wanted to immediately check out our purchase and start making pasta the second we got home. But…we had a busy weekend ahead of us and that wasn’t possible. Roger was hosting a bbq and poker tournament at our house on Saturday. Getting things ready for that party took priority. To make it more hectic, our good friend Klara was graduating from college the same day. I’ve known since she started school that I would not miss celebrating her graduation for the world. This was both helpful and not to Roger. On one hand, he would be on his own for all food prep the day of the party, but at the same time, I was taking Kae with me to the graduation, so at least she wasn’t going to be a distraction.
Saturday morning was just downright crazy for us. We tried to relax together a little bit before we started getting ready, but with the party starting at 4 and the graduation at 1, there just wasn’t the time. Roger still hadn’t purchased all the meat for the bbq and I needed to do some last minute cleaning. Also, I left most of the menu planning to Roger…this was his event after all. But that proved to be a mistake. Roger likes meat and when planning a bbq, his main focus is on what types of meat to get and how much. At 11am I realized that he had not considered what side dishes or snacks to serve. I ended up running to the store quickly to get vegetables and fruits for snack trays, chips, and some other appetizers we could make quickly. Our friend, Vickie was coming to our house so we could go to the graduation together and when she showed up, I still didn’t have Kae ready to go. We were a little late, but luckily only missed the mingling before the presentations and were able to be seated well before the program actually started.
The graduation was great and I’m happy to say that Kaelyn was well behaved the entire time. We even had a chance to briefly discuss our upcoming trip to Vegas (our graduation gift to Klara). The graduation made us late to the party and by the time I got home, our guests had already started to arrive. Luckily, another friend was able to show up early to help Roger put out the food and he and I are both extremely thankful for her help.
The party went off without a hitch. Roger is a master griller and the food was delicious. The poker tournament was also fun (Roger won…but it was nail biting in the end). We had a great time. The excitement was a lot for Kae, though. She already had a big day and was tired earlier than usual, but refused to go to bed. She’s not the kind of baby that is willing to miss anything! Basically, I had to trick her into going to sleep by laying her on the floor of her room and surround her by toys. I stayed and played with her a little bit, then left her alone leaving the door open so she could still hear the party and see people walk by. I normally hate doing this and am pretty strict about bedtime, but I made an exception. It took her 20 minutes to fall asleep and I was able to get her into bed after that without too much fuss.
Our last guest left around 2am. I was able to get things cleaned up well before then, so there wasn’t really anything to do when he left. Roger and I were both exhausted. We passed out immediately and really wanted to sleep in…unfortunately, Kaelyn still woke up at her usual time.
The good thing about Sunday, though, was that it was pasta day! I was so excited and started planning out what kind of raviolis to make and what sauces to make with them. It took us a while to get started because we were just so drained from the day before. Playing with Kaelyn just seemed so much more fun than making pasta from scratch. But, as we got hungrier and talked about our meal, our motivation quickly returned.
Let me just say that cooking together is a real test and testament of our marriage. Of all the things we do well together, I admit that cooking is not one of them. It’s hard for either of us to take a back seat when we’re in the kitchen. We’ve been able to work things out by working in separate spaces and clearly delineating our responsibilities. Normally, Roger cooks the meat in our outdoor kitchen and I make all the side dishes and sauces inside. We wanted to make the pasta together and somehow convinced ourselves that this would be fun…but, with both of us trying to figure out what to do and having different ideas of how to do it, it turned out to be a disaster. Fortunately, after a small argument and a lot of frustration, we worked out a system and were able to work together to make our raviolis. The end result was delicious, although our technique needs a lot of work. The raviolis didn’t all turn out pretty and it took us much too long to process the dough. Next time, if we work faster and apply our lessons learned, we should do much better. I think tonight, I’ll try to make some fettuccine, which should be much easier.
So, another busy, fun, crazy and exhausting weekend has passed and we’re both ready for another busy, fun, crazy and exhausting work week.
‘Til next time…
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Where the Heart Is
Last night, like most nights, we ate our dinner on the back patio. Roger and I sit at the bar of our outdoor kitchen and Kaelyn sits in her chair on the countertop. I love eating dinners this way because it keeps things relaxed and casual, but does have our family sitting down and eating together…not in front of the tv.
Over the weekend, we bought some solar powered lights to sprinkle around the yard. They do not give off too much light, but the goal is to create some ambiance. Yesterday, Roger took them out of the box and set up a display in the backyard for me to see the different ways/heights to set them and choose which one I liked best. I admit that I am far less excited about these lights than he is. During dinner, he was telling me about where we could put them and how we could set them up. I was only half listening though. My thoughts were moving more towards our entire house in general, how much I love it, and how much it has changed since I and then Roger moved in.
This year, my birthday (late September) will mark the five year anniversary of me having this house. It is the first house I ever owned, and I purchased it just after a difficult ending to a long-term relationship, in the middle of changing careers and on my 30th birthday. Needless to say, this house has always symbolized tenacity, perseverance, and the knowledge that life always goes on. At the time, I was single and moving in with just myself and my cat. I thought the house was too big for just me, but because I could afford it and thought it a good investment, I bought it. I remember telling one friend of mine that this house has the potential to grow with me. I never planned on keeping it forever, but if I stayed for any length of time, it could adapt to different stages of my life. At the time, I thought that the house was going to grow to be a part of me, be the center of some big memories….and it has not disappointed.
Every single room in our house holds special memories. Just thinking about all the different things I’ve experienced in it amazes me. The first room, just off the entryway is my library. I wanted that room so badly. I went on countless shopping trips looking for just the right cushy chair and bookshelves to house in it. I was in that room the moment I found out my favorite aunt unexpectedly died. I stuffed wedding invitations and put together party favors in that room. I read book after book and cuddled with my daughter and read to her in that room. Our dining room has hosted holiday family dinners and been my constant choice for wrapping Christmas and birthday presents. Our formal living room was the place we decided to put the tree for Kaelyn’s first Christmas; it’s where my parents dumped off housewarming, wedding, and baby gifts. It’s the room I swore I’d never use, yet seems to be the place where I’ve had the deepest conversations and took the best naps. Our kitchen, the heart of our home, is where I first cooked for Roger, where we both experiment with food, where we do most of our entertaining. Our family room/loft is where I watched some of the best and some of the worst movies ever; it is the room where I first realized that I had fallen in love with Roger, and the room where we spent the first two weeks of Kaelyn’s life (out of the hospital) because we didn’t have the energy to get off the couch. Kaelyn’s nursery, is well…hers. It started off as a guest room, but not the one that guests tended to use. It housed my old daybed from my childhood, not the most comfortable, but it was the room that my best friend, Stacy, always used when she visited. She called it “her” room. Now, it’s transformed into a nursery. Where I rock Kaelyn and play with her. This room will transform a million times over as she grows.
Our guest room has hosted countless family and friends. I store pictures I haven’t gotten around to organizing yet in there. I hardly ever go into that room, but that is where my wedding dress is stored, where we keep Rogers old guitar and the room I chose to house my favorite antique armoire. Our bedroom symbolizes compromise for me and the most change. I used to have that room to myself, but now, often, our entire family hangs out there early weekend mornings. That was where Roger and I first found out we were going to have a baby and where I was standing the moment I realized I was in labor (twice). And back to the backyard…a field of weeds when I first moved in, it has transformed into our dream getaway. It’s now where we sit and watch tv, eat our meals, play with our daughter and entertain our friends. It has gone from nothing to a beautiful extension of our house.
When I think about all the things I’ve experienced in the last five years, about 90% of them take place in and around our house. Until I moved here, I moved every two to three years. I’ve traveled the world and lived in countless houses, apartments, and hotels. But, this house…the house that I got on my 30th birthday, the house where I had many dates and fell in love with Roger, the house that we came home to after our wedding, and the house we brought our first child home to, is more than just a house…it’s HOME.
The housing market has not fully recovered and I doubt that the house is worth much more (if any) than what I owe on it. Because of the economy, Roger and I are holding off on building our “dream house” and staying here for the moment. It will be nice to create our next place together and stay there forever, but with all the emotion tied into this house, I know it will be bittersweet. In the meantime, there is no place I’d rather be than right here…in this house. At home.
Over the weekend, we bought some solar powered lights to sprinkle around the yard. They do not give off too much light, but the goal is to create some ambiance. Yesterday, Roger took them out of the box and set up a display in the backyard for me to see the different ways/heights to set them and choose which one I liked best. I admit that I am far less excited about these lights than he is. During dinner, he was telling me about where we could put them and how we could set them up. I was only half listening though. My thoughts were moving more towards our entire house in general, how much I love it, and how much it has changed since I and then Roger moved in.
This year, my birthday (late September) will mark the five year anniversary of me having this house. It is the first house I ever owned, and I purchased it just after a difficult ending to a long-term relationship, in the middle of changing careers and on my 30th birthday. Needless to say, this house has always symbolized tenacity, perseverance, and the knowledge that life always goes on. At the time, I was single and moving in with just myself and my cat. I thought the house was too big for just me, but because I could afford it and thought it a good investment, I bought it. I remember telling one friend of mine that this house has the potential to grow with me. I never planned on keeping it forever, but if I stayed for any length of time, it could adapt to different stages of my life. At the time, I thought that the house was going to grow to be a part of me, be the center of some big memories….and it has not disappointed.
Every single room in our house holds special memories. Just thinking about all the different things I’ve experienced in it amazes me. The first room, just off the entryway is my library. I wanted that room so badly. I went on countless shopping trips looking for just the right cushy chair and bookshelves to house in it. I was in that room the moment I found out my favorite aunt unexpectedly died. I stuffed wedding invitations and put together party favors in that room. I read book after book and cuddled with my daughter and read to her in that room. Our dining room has hosted holiday family dinners and been my constant choice for wrapping Christmas and birthday presents. Our formal living room was the place we decided to put the tree for Kaelyn’s first Christmas; it’s where my parents dumped off housewarming, wedding, and baby gifts. It’s the room I swore I’d never use, yet seems to be the place where I’ve had the deepest conversations and took the best naps. Our kitchen, the heart of our home, is where I first cooked for Roger, where we both experiment with food, where we do most of our entertaining. Our family room/loft is where I watched some of the best and some of the worst movies ever; it is the room where I first realized that I had fallen in love with Roger, and the room where we spent the first two weeks of Kaelyn’s life (out of the hospital) because we didn’t have the energy to get off the couch. Kaelyn’s nursery, is well…hers. It started off as a guest room, but not the one that guests tended to use. It housed my old daybed from my childhood, not the most comfortable, but it was the room that my best friend, Stacy, always used when she visited. She called it “her” room. Now, it’s transformed into a nursery. Where I rock Kaelyn and play with her. This room will transform a million times over as she grows.
Our guest room has hosted countless family and friends. I store pictures I haven’t gotten around to organizing yet in there. I hardly ever go into that room, but that is where my wedding dress is stored, where we keep Rogers old guitar and the room I chose to house my favorite antique armoire. Our bedroom symbolizes compromise for me and the most change. I used to have that room to myself, but now, often, our entire family hangs out there early weekend mornings. That was where Roger and I first found out we were going to have a baby and where I was standing the moment I realized I was in labor (twice). And back to the backyard…a field of weeds when I first moved in, it has transformed into our dream getaway. It’s now where we sit and watch tv, eat our meals, play with our daughter and entertain our friends. It has gone from nothing to a beautiful extension of our house.
When I think about all the things I’ve experienced in the last five years, about 90% of them take place in and around our house. Until I moved here, I moved every two to three years. I’ve traveled the world and lived in countless houses, apartments, and hotels. But, this house…the house that I got on my 30th birthday, the house where I had many dates and fell in love with Roger, the house that we came home to after our wedding, and the house we brought our first child home to, is more than just a house…it’s HOME.
The housing market has not fully recovered and I doubt that the house is worth much more (if any) than what I owe on it. Because of the economy, Roger and I are holding off on building our “dream house” and staying here for the moment. It will be nice to create our next place together and stay there forever, but with all the emotion tied into this house, I know it will be bittersweet. In the meantime, there is no place I’d rather be than right here…in this house. At home.
Monday, June 7, 2010
It's Enough
Friday night, three couples got together in our home for an evening of dinner, dessert and wine. The first, M and C have been married for a little over five years; both on their second marriage. The second, Roger and I, have been married for close to two years and of course have just added to our family with the birth of Kaelyn. Finally, the third, E and L...dating for two years, are engaged to be married in just a few months and want to have a family right away. We started the night as anyone would expect; appetizers, wine and conversations, sitting around our kitchen island as I finished up our dinner of leg of lamb (on the grill rotisserie) and orzo pasta. The conversation naturally went to the wedding planning. M and C eloped and Roger and I planned a relatively small and traditional wedding. E and L have large families and their wedding is going to be much bigger and grander in scale than the rest or ours. With such different approaches to our unions, it was hard for any of us to give solid advice…not that it’s needed. E is very organized and efficient. She has a solid handle on her wedding planning and I admire the grace and ease with which she finalizes her wedding details.
So, our next topic of conversation evolved. Melding lives. This, we all have in common. Three independent, strong women, marrying three independent, strong men. In all our cases, the men gave up their homes and moved into ours. In all our cases, we had a little bit of struggle with how that worked out. I remember Roger and me making the decision to live in my house. It’s what I wanted and it made the most economical sense. The first step was for us to decide which of his things to bring over and which of my things to get rid of. We both had a hard time with this. Roger had just bought his house a year before we got married. He bought new furniture and did a lot of work in that house. Giving any of it up was difficult for him. I brought all my stuff from overseas. I had unique pieces that I couldn’t just walk into a store and replace. I couldn’t fathom that any of it would or could go away. And considering that we both had an entire three bedroom house of stuff, sorting it all out took a lot of time.
I remember, needing to do something, deciding that I would go ahead and do things that I knew had to be done…including cleaning out the closets to make room for Roger’s clothes and whatever else he decided to bring over. My friend, Stacy, actually came to Sacramento from LA to give me “emotional support” as I went through this process. In the end, it ended up being much easier than I anticipated. This is what love did to me. And I had the motivation after that, to go through the garage and the rest of the house and see what I really could live without. I also gave Roger a room to himself. One where he could do whatever he wanted. Where I had no say. He chose the garage. I was relieved. As I recounted this to M and E, they both laughed. E and L are going through the very same thing right now and M said that she had the same trouble when C was moving in with her. But M said something very profound. “You gave up closet space and the garage, but he gave up his entire house and most of his things.” It’s humbling to think of how selfish I was back then. I was struggling so much with changing my house, when Roger was giving up everything…for me. I like to think I would have done the same thing for him, but the truth is I didn’t have to.
M wanted to talk to E about marriage. What is good and what is challenging. She has seen the ugly, struggled with divorce. She has seen the healing and recovery in being in a good, healthy, solid relationship. She was eager to share her lessons learned. I, on the other hand, hesitated with this. I’m not quick to give advice on relationships…especially when unsolicited. Plus, I admit, I don’t know a lot about making a relationship work. Roger and I are still pretty much newlyweds and we’ve gone through a lot of change in our first couple of years of marriage…the birth of our daughter, the changing of jobs and career paths, adjustment issues we didn’t anticipate we’d have. I felt, at that moment, so ill-equipped to tell anyone what marriage was going to be like, what to do, what to accept, what to stand up for. I took a back seat as M recounted her own struggles with her past marriage and how she had to let go of that and realize that her perception of things had nothing to do with C. E also recounted how she had to communicate to L what she needed and understand what he needed and how their method of dealing with problems differed. I listened as both of these women talked about how hard it was for them to accept some things about their partners. I felt better in realizing that everyone has adjustment issues, especially when those people are used to doing things their way all the time.
I found myself telling them that two people could not be more different than Roger and I. We are the classic case of how polar opposites attract. I heard myself saying things like “Despite how much I admire him, I often wonder why I ever thought that I could live with him.” I couldn’t believe that I was saying these words. That flowing from my mouth, were words that admitted that I was weak and unsure. And then I said the most shocking thing of all…that evidence of Roger’s greatness and of his love for me was everywhere. I’m hard to live with. I’m difficult and complicated…yet, he loves me. I pointed to the outdoor fireplace we were sitting around and said that Roger built that for me. Pointed out how most of things in our house were chosen by me. Recounted the little ways that he surprises me…with notes, flowers, breakfast in bed, and new tires for my car. How even though he didn’t understand why, he decorated a nursery for a baby that would never remember what it looked like. And how, over and over again, he accepts my friends, hangs out with them, entertains them and does so much work so that I can spend time with them. I turned to E and told her that it’s amazing to see how someone like me, who is stubborn and selfish, could find someone that would love her with his whole heart. Roger may struggle with putting his thoughts and worries into words, he may not put his socks and shoes away or empty the dishwasher when I want him to, but he loves me. I don’t have to look far or think hard to find evidence of his love. I don’t deserve it. I told her that if, in times of unsurety, when she’s feeling insecure and vulnerable, if she can take a step back and examine the evidence of L’s love for her, she will realize that what matters most is already there. I believe the little things do matter…I just need to realize what those things are.
So, despite my best effort, I gave advice on love…but not to E and M…to myself. And I needed that pep talk. Roger loves me. I love him. It may not be everything, but it’s enough.
So, our next topic of conversation evolved. Melding lives. This, we all have in common. Three independent, strong women, marrying three independent, strong men. In all our cases, the men gave up their homes and moved into ours. In all our cases, we had a little bit of struggle with how that worked out. I remember Roger and me making the decision to live in my house. It’s what I wanted and it made the most economical sense. The first step was for us to decide which of his things to bring over and which of my things to get rid of. We both had a hard time with this. Roger had just bought his house a year before we got married. He bought new furniture and did a lot of work in that house. Giving any of it up was difficult for him. I brought all my stuff from overseas. I had unique pieces that I couldn’t just walk into a store and replace. I couldn’t fathom that any of it would or could go away. And considering that we both had an entire three bedroom house of stuff, sorting it all out took a lot of time.
I remember, needing to do something, deciding that I would go ahead and do things that I knew had to be done…including cleaning out the closets to make room for Roger’s clothes and whatever else he decided to bring over. My friend, Stacy, actually came to Sacramento from LA to give me “emotional support” as I went through this process. In the end, it ended up being much easier than I anticipated. This is what love did to me. And I had the motivation after that, to go through the garage and the rest of the house and see what I really could live without. I also gave Roger a room to himself. One where he could do whatever he wanted. Where I had no say. He chose the garage. I was relieved. As I recounted this to M and E, they both laughed. E and L are going through the very same thing right now and M said that she had the same trouble when C was moving in with her. But M said something very profound. “You gave up closet space and the garage, but he gave up his entire house and most of his things.” It’s humbling to think of how selfish I was back then. I was struggling so much with changing my house, when Roger was giving up everything…for me. I like to think I would have done the same thing for him, but the truth is I didn’t have to.
M wanted to talk to E about marriage. What is good and what is challenging. She has seen the ugly, struggled with divorce. She has seen the healing and recovery in being in a good, healthy, solid relationship. She was eager to share her lessons learned. I, on the other hand, hesitated with this. I’m not quick to give advice on relationships…especially when unsolicited. Plus, I admit, I don’t know a lot about making a relationship work. Roger and I are still pretty much newlyweds and we’ve gone through a lot of change in our first couple of years of marriage…the birth of our daughter, the changing of jobs and career paths, adjustment issues we didn’t anticipate we’d have. I felt, at that moment, so ill-equipped to tell anyone what marriage was going to be like, what to do, what to accept, what to stand up for. I took a back seat as M recounted her own struggles with her past marriage and how she had to let go of that and realize that her perception of things had nothing to do with C. E also recounted how she had to communicate to L what she needed and understand what he needed and how their method of dealing with problems differed. I listened as both of these women talked about how hard it was for them to accept some things about their partners. I felt better in realizing that everyone has adjustment issues, especially when those people are used to doing things their way all the time.
I found myself telling them that two people could not be more different than Roger and I. We are the classic case of how polar opposites attract. I heard myself saying things like “Despite how much I admire him, I often wonder why I ever thought that I could live with him.” I couldn’t believe that I was saying these words. That flowing from my mouth, were words that admitted that I was weak and unsure. And then I said the most shocking thing of all…that evidence of Roger’s greatness and of his love for me was everywhere. I’m hard to live with. I’m difficult and complicated…yet, he loves me. I pointed to the outdoor fireplace we were sitting around and said that Roger built that for me. Pointed out how most of things in our house were chosen by me. Recounted the little ways that he surprises me…with notes, flowers, breakfast in bed, and new tires for my car. How even though he didn’t understand why, he decorated a nursery for a baby that would never remember what it looked like. And how, over and over again, he accepts my friends, hangs out with them, entertains them and does so much work so that I can spend time with them. I turned to E and told her that it’s amazing to see how someone like me, who is stubborn and selfish, could find someone that would love her with his whole heart. Roger may struggle with putting his thoughts and worries into words, he may not put his socks and shoes away or empty the dishwasher when I want him to, but he loves me. I don’t have to look far or think hard to find evidence of his love. I don’t deserve it. I told her that if, in times of unsurety, when she’s feeling insecure and vulnerable, if she can take a step back and examine the evidence of L’s love for her, she will realize that what matters most is already there. I believe the little things do matter…I just need to realize what those things are.
So, despite my best effort, I gave advice on love…but not to E and M…to myself. And I needed that pep talk. Roger loves me. I love him. It may not be everything, but it’s enough.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Gratefulness
I was reading a blog today, and like it so often does, it sparked some deep thought and emotion within me. Normally, I just post on that blog with whatever comments or questions I have, but today, my thoughts don’t have a lot to do with the post in particular…so, I’ll write them here.
This particular blog is mostly about adoption. Something I cannot relate to although I do try. It is written by someone I went to school with, who is both adopted and has adopted. A common theme is the idea of gratefulness. Should a child be grateful to adoptive parents? Should those parents expect that the child be grateful that they were adopted? Something I never really considered before is the horrible tragedy that has to occur before the “miracle” of adoption can begin. A family has to first be torn apart before a new one can be brought together. Abandonment, poverty, death, corruption…whatever it is, it has to happen first. And the child is the only innocent party. So, should a child that first had to endure such a tragedy be grateful for the opportunity of an alternate life? Most adoptees say no. And sometimes I think that this is unfair. True, the child is a victim of a system that didn’t work. A system, society, and/or family that failed them. Then, they become the answer to some other family’s problem of infertility, or the symbol of their desire to “do good.” I agree that a child should not be grateful for any of that. But, knowing that the tragedy happens. Knowing that it has happened…is it fair to say to the adopters that their child should not and cannot be grateful for the part where they do have a home and a family, when they could so easily not? Especially if that adopted family does recognize and attempt to address the tragedy and the emotions of the child that lived it, even if they can’t remember it? I know so many adoptive families, and the love is so raw and suffocating, it’s hard to put them in the same category as the system that first betrayed their child. I don’t really know the answer. And not knowing a thing about adoption, I have to look at it from the only perspective that I do have. Being a mother, and being a child.
Roger and I have considered adopting. It is not something that we are actively pursuing at the moment, but we have discussed and are willing to continue to discuss adopting a child in a few years. I would not expect that child to be grateful that we adopted him/her. It seems absurd. Of course, we would love that child whole heartedly. We would provide for, protect, and basically do anything for that child for the rest of our lives. But to expect gratefulness seems counterintuitive to what it means to be a parent. Being a parent is a choice for me. Something I wanted. Regardless of how a child comes into my life, it is I who is blessed to have them, not the other way around. I would not expect my daughter to be grateful because I gave birth to her. She is my savior. I am grateful for her.
I remember, growing up, several times when my own mother would tell me that I should be grateful to her. Or more, that I was being ungrateful. These statements were usually made in the wake of me not listening to her, not wanting to do my chores, or whining because she didn’t buy me something that I wanted. Back then, I would think “why should I be grateful?” I didn’t ask to be born. She wanted to be a mother and I was the result of that want. Now, I guess I feel much the same way. I wanted to be a mother. I had a child. It is my responsibility to teach her, protect her, and love her. She will rebel. She won’t always listen. Being a mother is hard work. I should never and would never tell her, in response to that, that she should be grateful that I wanted to be a mother. No, I am grateful that she was given to me. I am blessed by her.
But, even though I don’t think that my own mother should have attempted to make me feel guilty for acting like a child, should not have told me that I need to be grateful to her…the fact remains that I am very grateful to her…to both my parents. Both for what they did right and what they did wrong. Their mistakes helped shape me. And I can’t sit here, today, perfectly satisfied with who I am and what I’ve become without acknowledging that some of that stemmed from them making some mistakes in raising me. I’m grateful for my parents because, despite everything, they made choices that resulted in me. And once I had arrived, they loved me. We were not rich, but they worked hard to get me everything I needed (and even some things I wanted). Through that, they taught me the value of hard work and responsibility. They must have had some rough patches in their marriage…no couple is perfect…yet I am blissfully unaware of that. They protected me from whatever problems they may have had. They showed me what a strong marriage looks like. They taught me compromise. They made me into the person that wouldn’t settle for anything less than someone who treated me with kindness, respect, and love.
Mostly, though, I am astounded by the paradox of parenthood. Speaking from my own experience, the desire to be a mother was very selfish. I had a want (maybe instinct) to copy my DNA. To produce a miniature version of myself. I wanted to experience unconditional love, both on the giving and receiving end and I needed it to be instantaneous…unlike the love I have for Roger, which grew slowly, even if deliberately. Yet, from what was a very selfish want…all about me…came something that is just the opposite. Because from the moment that we created Kaelyn, it stopped being about me. Being a mother is the most unselfish thing I have ever had to do. Everything that I am and everything that I do, is about this child. My life is no longer about what I want or what is best for me. It’s about Kaelyn. I find it ironic that it took a very selfish act and desire to turn me into someone who loves and gives unconditionally.
I am grateful that my parents are part of that paradox. They could have continued to be selfish after my creation, but were not. They made their life about me and there’s no way I could fully see or appreciate that until I became a parent myself. Finally, I’m grateful for the grandparents that they are. Proud and doting. Giving and spoiling.
In conclusion, do I think parents should expect their children to be grateful? No. But, I do think that children can grow up and be grateful. If it’s so genuine that it’s given without expectation, then all the better!
This particular blog is mostly about adoption. Something I cannot relate to although I do try. It is written by someone I went to school with, who is both adopted and has adopted. A common theme is the idea of gratefulness. Should a child be grateful to adoptive parents? Should those parents expect that the child be grateful that they were adopted? Something I never really considered before is the horrible tragedy that has to occur before the “miracle” of adoption can begin. A family has to first be torn apart before a new one can be brought together. Abandonment, poverty, death, corruption…whatever it is, it has to happen first. And the child is the only innocent party. So, should a child that first had to endure such a tragedy be grateful for the opportunity of an alternate life? Most adoptees say no. And sometimes I think that this is unfair. True, the child is a victim of a system that didn’t work. A system, society, and/or family that failed them. Then, they become the answer to some other family’s problem of infertility, or the symbol of their desire to “do good.” I agree that a child should not be grateful for any of that. But, knowing that the tragedy happens. Knowing that it has happened…is it fair to say to the adopters that their child should not and cannot be grateful for the part where they do have a home and a family, when they could so easily not? Especially if that adopted family does recognize and attempt to address the tragedy and the emotions of the child that lived it, even if they can’t remember it? I know so many adoptive families, and the love is so raw and suffocating, it’s hard to put them in the same category as the system that first betrayed their child. I don’t really know the answer. And not knowing a thing about adoption, I have to look at it from the only perspective that I do have. Being a mother, and being a child.
Roger and I have considered adopting. It is not something that we are actively pursuing at the moment, but we have discussed and are willing to continue to discuss adopting a child in a few years. I would not expect that child to be grateful that we adopted him/her. It seems absurd. Of course, we would love that child whole heartedly. We would provide for, protect, and basically do anything for that child for the rest of our lives. But to expect gratefulness seems counterintuitive to what it means to be a parent. Being a parent is a choice for me. Something I wanted. Regardless of how a child comes into my life, it is I who is blessed to have them, not the other way around. I would not expect my daughter to be grateful because I gave birth to her. She is my savior. I am grateful for her.
I remember, growing up, several times when my own mother would tell me that I should be grateful to her. Or more, that I was being ungrateful. These statements were usually made in the wake of me not listening to her, not wanting to do my chores, or whining because she didn’t buy me something that I wanted. Back then, I would think “why should I be grateful?” I didn’t ask to be born. She wanted to be a mother and I was the result of that want. Now, I guess I feel much the same way. I wanted to be a mother. I had a child. It is my responsibility to teach her, protect her, and love her. She will rebel. She won’t always listen. Being a mother is hard work. I should never and would never tell her, in response to that, that she should be grateful that I wanted to be a mother. No, I am grateful that she was given to me. I am blessed by her.
But, even though I don’t think that my own mother should have attempted to make me feel guilty for acting like a child, should not have told me that I need to be grateful to her…the fact remains that I am very grateful to her…to both my parents. Both for what they did right and what they did wrong. Their mistakes helped shape me. And I can’t sit here, today, perfectly satisfied with who I am and what I’ve become without acknowledging that some of that stemmed from them making some mistakes in raising me. I’m grateful for my parents because, despite everything, they made choices that resulted in me. And once I had arrived, they loved me. We were not rich, but they worked hard to get me everything I needed (and even some things I wanted). Through that, they taught me the value of hard work and responsibility. They must have had some rough patches in their marriage…no couple is perfect…yet I am blissfully unaware of that. They protected me from whatever problems they may have had. They showed me what a strong marriage looks like. They taught me compromise. They made me into the person that wouldn’t settle for anything less than someone who treated me with kindness, respect, and love.
Mostly, though, I am astounded by the paradox of parenthood. Speaking from my own experience, the desire to be a mother was very selfish. I had a want (maybe instinct) to copy my DNA. To produce a miniature version of myself. I wanted to experience unconditional love, both on the giving and receiving end and I needed it to be instantaneous…unlike the love I have for Roger, which grew slowly, even if deliberately. Yet, from what was a very selfish want…all about me…came something that is just the opposite. Because from the moment that we created Kaelyn, it stopped being about me. Being a mother is the most unselfish thing I have ever had to do. Everything that I am and everything that I do, is about this child. My life is no longer about what I want or what is best for me. It’s about Kaelyn. I find it ironic that it took a very selfish act and desire to turn me into someone who loves and gives unconditionally.
I am grateful that my parents are part of that paradox. They could have continued to be selfish after my creation, but were not. They made their life about me and there’s no way I could fully see or appreciate that until I became a parent myself. Finally, I’m grateful for the grandparents that they are. Proud and doting. Giving and spoiling.
In conclusion, do I think parents should expect their children to be grateful? No. But, I do think that children can grow up and be grateful. If it’s so genuine that it’s given without expectation, then all the better!
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Long Weekend
Roger and I had a long weekend for memorial day...five days. We had the opportunity to "vacation" at home. I love the concept! No stress, relaxing, and I still feel like we went on vacation. Old friends from my college days came into town for a visit on Friday morning, bringing their 2 1/2 year old son with them. I hadn't seen them since my wedding day, back when their little boy was the same age as Kaelyn. It's amazing to think how much has changed in my life (and theirs) in such a short time.
Although I had to go into work for a couple of hours on Friday, I still was able to spend the majority of my day with my friends. It amazed me, really, to think back to when the three of us first met. Alan and Jennifer had already been dating for a few years...I had just transferred to Purdue from West Point. We instantly became friends. The three of us hanging out both in and out of school. Now, our numbers have doubled. We have visited each other all over the world, attended each other's weddings, and now our children play together.
I remember one moment in particular where their son, eating blueberries, decided that he wanted to share with Kaelyn. He walked up to her and stuck a blueberry in her mouth...she willingly took it. It was such a small, inconsequential thing...but it symbolized a lot to me. Evolution. Twelve years ago, I would not have imagined that one day, my two college friends would be sitting in my backyard, across the country, with their child feeding my child blueberries. It says a lot about how the friendship has evolved...and in such a wonderfully good way. It also made me realize that we have grown up. It doesn't seem possible.
We had a good weekend. Friday we hung out at home, Roger BBQ and the kids played and got to know each other. Saturday we took the kids to the zoo. There, I got a glimpse of what my life will be like in 2 years. The experience of a toddler so much different than an infant. I both am excited and fearful...much the same as I felt when I first found out I was pregnant. The kids wore themselves out at the zoo and we returned in the early afternoon so they could take their much needed naps. That night was simple, go out for pizza, eat dessert, stay up late and talk.
Sunday morning they left to visit another couple that lives in a town just south of here. Roger and I spent the day at home with Kaelyn. Roger caught up on work and I finished the book I was reading. We had made plans to meet everyone in San Francisco the next morning, but I got a call from another friend, Stacy, saying that she would be able to come to town for the day on her way back to LA. We had to back out of SF, letting our other friends go without us (with their other friends), and we again hung out in Sacramento, instead, taking Stacy to the county fair. The fair was just ok. Typical county fair (the State fair is so much better). It was only good because we were all together. We ate typical fair food...which was yummy, bought our favorite candied/caramel apple, and came home completely sugared out. Even Kaelyn, who had not eaten all the junk, seemed to have extra energy to burn off and refused to take a nap. Stacy had to go home not long after we returned, and Roger and I, exhausted, attempted to take naps. That didn't work out, so instead, I played with Kaelyn while Roger did some work around the house.
Tuesday morning we met back up with my college friends and their son at my favorite restaurant for breakfast, then brought them back to our house so that their son could take his afternoon nap. We all recounted the last few days that we had spent apart, then walked next door for soft serve yogurt, with all the toppings. They headed back to the airport after that and Roger and I returned home, feeling exhausted, satisfied, and like we had just returned from a week long vacation. Now, we both feel like we need another day to just rest. Instead, it's back to our normal week...whatever "normal" is...
Although I had to go into work for a couple of hours on Friday, I still was able to spend the majority of my day with my friends. It amazed me, really, to think back to when the three of us first met. Alan and Jennifer had already been dating for a few years...I had just transferred to Purdue from West Point. We instantly became friends. The three of us hanging out both in and out of school. Now, our numbers have doubled. We have visited each other all over the world, attended each other's weddings, and now our children play together.
I remember one moment in particular where their son, eating blueberries, decided that he wanted to share with Kaelyn. He walked up to her and stuck a blueberry in her mouth...she willingly took it. It was such a small, inconsequential thing...but it symbolized a lot to me. Evolution. Twelve years ago, I would not have imagined that one day, my two college friends would be sitting in my backyard, across the country, with their child feeding my child blueberries. It says a lot about how the friendship has evolved...and in such a wonderfully good way. It also made me realize that we have grown up. It doesn't seem possible.
We had a good weekend. Friday we hung out at home, Roger BBQ and the kids played and got to know each other. Saturday we took the kids to the zoo. There, I got a glimpse of what my life will be like in 2 years. The experience of a toddler so much different than an infant. I both am excited and fearful...much the same as I felt when I first found out I was pregnant. The kids wore themselves out at the zoo and we returned in the early afternoon so they could take their much needed naps. That night was simple, go out for pizza, eat dessert, stay up late and talk.
Sunday morning they left to visit another couple that lives in a town just south of here. Roger and I spent the day at home with Kaelyn. Roger caught up on work and I finished the book I was reading. We had made plans to meet everyone in San Francisco the next morning, but I got a call from another friend, Stacy, saying that she would be able to come to town for the day on her way back to LA. We had to back out of SF, letting our other friends go without us (with their other friends), and we again hung out in Sacramento, instead, taking Stacy to the county fair. The fair was just ok. Typical county fair (the State fair is so much better). It was only good because we were all together. We ate typical fair food...which was yummy, bought our favorite candied/caramel apple, and came home completely sugared out. Even Kaelyn, who had not eaten all the junk, seemed to have extra energy to burn off and refused to take a nap. Stacy had to go home not long after we returned, and Roger and I, exhausted, attempted to take naps. That didn't work out, so instead, I played with Kaelyn while Roger did some work around the house.
Tuesday morning we met back up with my college friends and their son at my favorite restaurant for breakfast, then brought them back to our house so that their son could take his afternoon nap. We all recounted the last few days that we had spent apart, then walked next door for soft serve yogurt, with all the toppings. They headed back to the airport after that and Roger and I returned home, feeling exhausted, satisfied, and like we had just returned from a week long vacation. Now, we both feel like we need another day to just rest. Instead, it's back to our normal week...whatever "normal" is...
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