Crappiversary

There are moments in your life that are so monumental that they are forever ingrained in your psyche.
These moments can be milestones or traumas. They can be joyful or painful.

The moment becomes a memory, the memory a story you tell yourself. Somewhere in that story, are truths, half truths, and lies that make up your reality and shape who you are from that moment going forward. Even as the moment is happening, you can have an out of body experience and realize that some smell, some taste, some word, some thing will always remind you of this exact moment.

While my husband was speaking to the anesthesiologist and surgeon about the surgery that had in moments, for me anyway, gone from bad to major. I tried to both listen and keep my son, 6 at the time, distracted.

I still had the wherewithal to realize that the outfit I picked for that day, would forever be linked to the day I found out my husband had cancer.

Cancer.

It was all wrong.

I wasn't there for this awful news. My husband, partner, and father of my child had been all alone when he got this information. He had to sit on that and wonder how he was going to tell me when I returned with our child. Our child who was already scared and worried about his dad. The reason I'd picked him up was so we could all spend some time together and we could reassure him that his dad was going to fine.

He did it. He told me. Calmly, and with resolve. Like he had already decided what was going to happen.

My mind was racing. I was shocked. I was trying to reign in my already anxiety ridden brain. I looked at my husband who was still talking. "I'm a survivor, this is just another time I'll beat the odds," he said. Then I knew he would, and that those clothes would forever be the cancer clothes.

The next half of the year. Diagnoses and treatment were full of anxiety, fears, anger, frustration, and love. I haven't worn the cancer outfit, but I have worn the top and the pants separately. There's a brief moment where I remember that moment. It's not a surprise, and it's OK. This is just a part of my husbands story, our story.

What I didn't expect was having that moment, when the Kona ice truck pulled up to my work. Surrounded by my co-workers, and families, just like I had the year before.

Before I knew.

Before everything changed.

What We're Reading: Dog Man

In June I got some book recommendations for Animal.

I had noticed a boy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. I commented on the book and before I knew it the mom was telling me what books I should introduce Animal to based on his like for the same book.

She told me check out Big Nate and Dog Man. I had just seen a Dog Man in his scholastic book flyer, so on a whim, I bought it.

The day it came in I put it on a shelf in the laundry room. I proceeded to forget all about it.

A few days later it caught Animals eye. He pulled it off the shelf and smiling asked, is this for me? I nodded. He said, thanks, and took of with the book. A few days later when it was time to do our reading he pulled it out and asked if we could read this.

We did. He read it to me. I read it to him.

Then we saw a two pack at Costco. He asked his dad if he would buy it for him. My husband did. We devoured those. Sometimes I read to him, sometimes he read to me. He started taking them to his grandma's house so he could read it to their dog. Last week they were on sale at Target, so we bought two more and then we checked out the last one at the library.

Recently he was slouched over his desk. I asked him what he was doing and he answered, just looking at what always cheers me up. He was looking at a Dog Man book.

Dog Man is written by Dav Pilkey, the creator of Captain Underpants. At the end of every book is About the Author. It always tells the same story. A story my son can relate to. A boy with too much energy and a creative imagination. A boy that isn't always on task, but believes in his creations. I like that message. I'm a fan.

What We're Reading: Your Seven-Year-Old Life in a Minor Key

Every summer I get a week off. Before parenthood I used the week to catch up with friends and family, clean my house and cook dinner every night. Now I tell myself I'll play the coveted role of stay at home mom.

Coveted by who? All? Most? Work out of the home moms.

Ever since Animal was an infant, all I wanted was to stay home and be there for every moment.

Except, I'm not cut out for that life.

When I'm home, I long to have a routine and schedule that includes: having a reason to put on real pants, adult conversations and mandated break times.

When I'm at work I wonder what Animal is up to. I want to enrich his life and build a strong bond between us. I want to be the classroom mom, I want to make pinterest worthy, from scratch lunches. I want to be patient, and perfect in every way.

The thing is, I'm not. I'm not patient. I'm not attentive. I'm trying, but I'm always failing. I'm not perfect. I know that's a silly thing to say. Of course I'm not perfect, no one is perfect. But I feel like I'm failing all the time.

I try to plan fun activities for my son and I. I take him to the amusement park, to the pool, to playgrounds and parks. I find activities at the library or his school. It doesn't matter what we do we spend some portion arguing. When I was a kid that was unheard of. Not the sulking or pouting of course, but the arguing. It drives me metaphorically insane, and to literal tears. I feel like the worst mom at least once a week. My son does not behave this way with his father, which only leads to disagreements between my husband and I.

This week at the beginning of my stay at home mom fantasy week, we took his bike out on the trail and rode to the park and then back. We argued as usual and while he sulked I sent an S.O.S text to a good friend. My son noticed how upset I was and apologized to me. He did his best, and did in fact change his attitude and we had a decent day.

My friend responded with this, "So much of this is his age. Anytime I have 7-10 year old patients. I know it's going to be a fight to do anything."

We went on to have a conversation about developmental stages.

A few days later we took his bike to the library, played tag at the park and then went in to check out some books. I found two books. The one I'm reading right now is called Your Seven-Year-Old Life in a Minor Key. It's all about the developmental stages of a seven year old. What a fucking God send. You know sometimes, it's just really helpful to know what are common and age appropriate stages that we all go through. Of course every kid is different and while some kids do a lot of a behavior, or just try it out once, we all go through these stages. As a parent it's important to know where a kid (your kid) is coming from. So that you can be better equipped to handle these moments. And at least for me, it is what I need to save my mental state.

Books to the rescue again!

What We're Reading: The Diary Of a Wimpy Kid

Very recently my son finished reading his first big kid book.

He just finished first grade, so he's been reading for a while. First the phonic books, then things like the Elephant and Piggy books by Mo Willems. He LOVED those books. We read a lot of other easy and first readers.

I tried to push him to read from The Magic Tree house series, he loved listening to those at bedtime and I was certain he could...but he didn't think he could.

Then one day Scholastic sent me an early release of Diary of a Pug (coming to a scholastic flyer near you soon). It was definitely a step above the books he loved, but it was also full of pictures and the story was so fun. A smart girl making an invention, and her sassy pug is telling the story. He read it with no complaints.

So I pulled out a boxed set of Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney I had purchased years ago (when there were only four). I threw them in his Easter Basket and hoped for the best.

He looked through them and was immediately curious. A few days later he strolls out with that book and shows me a picture. He's read around it and is amused. I ask him to start at the beginning because it sounds fun, and I want to hear more. Then casually say it will count as his reading log time.

HE STARTS READING. It takes him about 20 min to read 5 pages. He keeps stopping to make sure he read the word right, or to ask what something means or to comment on the pictures. He enjoys it. It's a fun story. I don't love it, but I love seeing the progress he's making reading 5-7 pages a morning. I love the confidence he's gaining. I love spending the time with him, being in this story with him, hearing his opinion about what the characters do, and his predictions about what will happen. Some mornings (that's when he reads to me) are rough because he's distracted, but this is also his homework so it needs to get done. But most mornings when he's reading to me, it's a little slice of heaven, because reading with my son is EXACTLY me being the mom I dreamed I would be. Not the one that's always in a rush. Not the one always feeling like I'm not doing my best. Not the one that doesn't know what she's doing. Not the one that feels like she's doing everything wrong.

I'm super proud of his accomplishment. I'm excited for the books he will choose for himself. I'm excited for all the things he can learn and be, because he can read. I'm maybe a little proud of me for helping him get there.

What We Are Reading: The Help

Like most moms, I spend a fair amount of time worrying about lots of things. Some important, but mostly, like most of moms, about the little things. 

I started this section on my blog because I feel I have some insights in this area, that can help other moms. Just as importantly however because I have questions of my own.

Books have always been some of my best friends. Sadly, since becoming a mommy I find that they are  some of my most neglected friends. 

Sure I read, a chapter hear, a book cover there. Blogs galore, articles on various topics of interest; What to feed my toddler. How to know if your child loves you. How to stop aggressive behavior. How to stay connected as a couple. Things that could be secretly ruining my relationship. You get the picture.

I also take a lot of quizzes. Mostly from Buzzfeed and BabyCenter. A few weeks ago, I took one: Are you doing everything you can to build a love of reading in your child. I took it, because even though I'm pretty sure I'm nailing it, I'm a sucker for anything that can cause self doubt. 

I did pretty well. Except on one question. Does your child see you reading. I read daily. (See above) The thing is, the articles, blogs, quizzes, they are ALL on my phone. So for all Animal knows I'm just playing with my phone. I have picked up all of three books since my sons birth. Three books in three years and I've read zero. 

That's right, I said Zero.

What a pitiful example I make. Sure I read to Animal, books by the dozen. But how often can he say mommy reads a story to herself, because she loves to read too? None.

I had to change that immediately. 

I started with (drumroll please). The Help by Kathryn Stockett. I wanted to read it after reading an interview with the author just before the movie came out. I watched it with a friend and really enjoyed it. She happened to mention that she had been waiting for some story lines she thought important,  but overall she still enjoyed. I was still pregnant when I watched, but at the time I was busy reading books about pregnancy and labor & delivery. No just because books, I was a busy girl then, with a strong agenda.

Well three and a half years later. I finally read it. Verdict? As usual the book was better than the movie.  All the same, the best part was curling up on the couch.  On Animals bedroom floor while he played. On the picnic table while he looked for bugs in the yard. Maybe especially nostalgic,  in bed way past my bedtime with my lamp on. I finished over a weekend, and Animal got to see mommy read for fun. 

What Does Forgiveness Mean?

We've all been there right?

When some transgression, grievance, or betrayal, real or perceived, big or small happens and we have to decide whether to forgive and forget or not. 

I don't believe I'm a petty person at least I've never been accused. Passive aggressive, selfish, bitchy those I've heard. and am quick to let go of ill will.  I will mull over what happened. Think about whether it matters enough to warrant airing or to suck it up, because in the long run it doesn't really matter. That equation has worked well for me in the past.

Like everyone else, I'm not perfect. Occasionally I make the mistake of letting a friendship go or getting my panties in a bunch over something rather trivial that feels big at the time. Unfortunately for me, more often than not, I continue the relationship long past a healthy point. I guess you could say I'm a bit of a doormat. I'm just not confrontational. Fortunately I almost always surround myself with wonderful people. My circle of friends is small. Not interconnected for the most part. But they are real friends, and those are hard to come by.

A year ago something happened. Something big. Something not imagined. It was not the first thing, but it was the worst. It made me feel something I have never truly felt, and wish things I had never, ever wished. I was crushed. Devastated. Hurt. Enraged. Worried for my family. 

I thought things I'm certain I have never thought before. 

I also prayed a lot, because the thing about when you are holding on to ill will I learned, is it makes you sick. Physically. Emotionally. It rots you.

I asked God to take that feeling away. 

I promised to forgive if he would just remove the malice that was taking root in my soul. Rotting me at my core. Then I thanked him for making a way for my family to move forward. For getting us through this tough time and putting us in the right situation. For giving me the ability to forgive. Even before it happened, because I had believed that ultimately of course we would move forward, we would be stronger and I would of course forgive.

I believe it was at the moment I thanked Him AND started thinking about forgiveness, that the decay started to heal. I had faith that things would get better, and they did. As soon as things were in motion I spent a day researching what forgiveness was. Because I wasn't ready to forgive. The resentment was just to deep. My rage so fresh.

I was happily surprised to learn that in both the psychological and Biblical definitions of forgiveness, didn't mean I had to have a relationship with that person. I didn't even have to talk to them about any of my feelings. I only had to let go of my ill will, let go of expectations relating to that person, and let go of the hurt. 

This was a revelation to me. One I needed to receive. Maybe you do too. I'm not going to say it was easy, or even that it's done. I will say that I'm almost there. 

Thirty Somethings At Outside Lands

My husband and I have not been avid concert goers. Ticket prices seemed to always be more than we wanted to spend.  I tend to fall asleep anywhere after 10pm. So for those reasons it wasn't ever a priority. 

When we found out we were pregnant, something happened to my husband and he developed a great urgency to live a little. The year I got pregnant he went to no less than six concerts. Two of them were music festivals. I fought to go went to one where we had seats , but I passed on the chance to go to Outside Lands that first year because after he took me to Florence and the Machine on our anniversary at four months pregnant. I knew I would not want to walk/stand for a three straight days without being able to drink. 

The hubby had the most amazing time and has gone every year since. This year after many setbacks I finally got to go with him. My brother and my soon to be SIL offered to watch Animal and my mom (who is his other primary caregiver) was there too. I didn't go all three days, so I had to try to see and do all I wanted in one day.

Doors opened at noon, we wanted to leave at 11, but as usual when it's a personal day we're always running late. So we left at a quarter to noon. We parked across from the shuttle at 12:30ish and got in line for the shuttle that would take us to Golden Gate Park. The line was long, the ride is about 25 minutes long. We were on the Shuttle at one and as we pulled away we were surprised to see the line had more than doubled since we got there. 

Next, as we are dropped of at the gate, we somehow manage to miss the line doubling again. It took nearly another hour to get in.

There was so much art. Live artist painting murals. Past murals lined the outer edges of the event. There were painted structures all over. Some to admire and others to rest your achy feet. I could have spent several hours just walking through this area and watching the painters. Sadly, as fore mentioned, I had only one day so I only spent and hour walking through the art.

There were DJs, comedy shows, Skits, vaudeville acts, magic shows, break dancers, arts and crafts, carnies and even "camp" where we could have played board games and shit. We walked past all of that. No time. I definitely need to go for the three days.

There were so many choices in food. So much to drink. We did not eat, or drink to our hearts content. I didn't want to use the port a pottys any more than absolutely necessary and I'm sure that's self explanatory. 

We did however stop at beer lands, wine lands and for a cocktail. So good and like all events so pricey. At least my cocktail wasn't watered down. 


Outside lands is held at Golden Gate Park, so it is dusty, windy and awesome. 

At four we head to the stage where Death Cab for Cutie would perform. The hubby likes to get as close to his favorite bands as possible so we head to that stage as the band BEFORE Death Cab is going to start.  We find a decent place to stand for Haim, a band I've never heard of. At first I'm really bummed I'm not getting one last drink because I know we're not moving once DCFC starts. Then the energy really picks up and I really enjoy the three sister band. 

After they finish and the crowd starts to leave, we inch our way forward to find a better, closer spot. They are awesome, they play everything I want to hear. I almost completely ignore the people who have continued to inch forward and are now standing in spots where was once 8 inches between me and the person in front of me. 

Death exits after marveling at the fact that they are opening for Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers. Again after they finish and the crowd thins, we inch our way a little closer to the stage. It's comfortable.

Until the show starts. Don't get me wrong. Tom Petty put on a great show and he played almost everything I wanted to hear. He really rocked and the crowd was super into it. However, after standing in basically the same spot for four hours prior to his starting, my feet, back and body were done. I'm a middle aged woman for God's sake. Not to mention the people again squeezing into spaces that don't exist. The hubby who is much larger and who had already done this for two days had to be dying. He didn't seem to be. He loves music so much and was just in mega beast mode. I was impressed. 

The show ended just before ten. We trekked out to the shuttles, waited, road back to our car, walked to our car and headed home. We got home after midnight. It was exhausting and wonderful.