Harried with Children

Dylan told me the other day that he did not want ‘an important job.’  I flashed to a sullen 20-year-old, and then a sullen 30 year-old playing Wii-9000 on my couch.

‘Oh, really?’  was my best answer.   (I was also watching 54^th President slide off the table).

“I don’t want a job where you have to go there every day.”

We were on our way back from KinderCamp designed to prepare him for the transition to Kindergarten and on our way to swimming.  It is a tight to make everything happen on time.

We talked about what he liked (the stuffed bear area) and what he did not (having to play on a ‘little kids’ playground) and really that he didn’t like the every-day part.  He didn’t want to be accountable to something and somewhere every single day/moment/second.  (This is my translation of what he said).

None of us do.  And I don’t know if 5 year-olds experience weekends the same way as the rest of us.  Up to this point, KinderCamp is the first thing he is dong ‘every day’.  Pre-school was 3 days a week, swimming 2xs, To have to get up and head out, every day to the same situation (and then on Mondays and Wednesdays rush off to swimming and on Fridays, add hip hop to that) was feeling, appropriately, like a bit much.

Somewhere in there I offered that maybe he wanted to work for himself like his Dad, so he could choose his schedule and the work he is doing.

“But does he have to go every time?”

“Well, yes, yes, it is still work.  He has to do it—not every day—but most of the time.”

I am certain that Dylan will work this out.  But he has been saying lately that he just does not know what job he wants to have.  I tell him, as I may have to again 20 years from now, that he has time, that it is not a question to worry about but rather be interested in.  He will find things that he enjoys and they will take him in a direction—but really he has time.

My other thought is that the replicating for kids the schedule the rest of us follow or see as successful is not working for him.  I was talking the other day with another Dad who was saying how summers used to be just summer, unstructured time and it worked just fine.  Yes, and birthday parties didn’t used to have themes.  Remember when it just meant a bunch of kids came over and ran around and ate cake?

Back to the career counseling, I think Dylan would like to be independently wealthy and I will buy him a scratch ticket on the way home.  I have also decided to cancel hip hop for the rest of the summer.

I get jacked up around my extended family.  I know this makes me unique and none of you can relate.  While 10 years of therapy took the edge off; I am not cured.

I was in my regular hyper-alert mode visiting my brother and sister-in-law the other day–tracking with the attention and precision found only in transplant surgeries and mine diffusion squads when my husband struck up a conversation with someone in the room.

I panicked, well I guess to be honest, I panicked more because in that context (as previously described) I am already in a panicked state.  I got it in my head that maybe in this moment rather than talking to X, my husband should be talking to Y or maybe he should be in the other room asking to see the new tile or maybe he should be doing the dishes (there weren’t any dishes)….

My family loves my husband.  My family has been there for us in more ways that I could ever possibly articulate AND the funny thing about families, they can also make one a bit crazy.   It is the birthplace of my plan to control the universe and where I am still trying to hold onto or get the goods in some way even though what goods are exactly is increasingly hazy.

Later, and after coming down a bit by sitting through Harry Potter part 2000 I brought up how I had felt earlier in the day.

I joked about it to my husband.  (I have learned that joking about something can sometimes allow a softening around an issue that would otherwise get expressed too hard.  I do offer some caution here and a maybe a ‘do not try this at home’ label.  If you are not clear on the lines between sarcasm, mockery and just lightening the mood and finding a way to laugh at yourself a bit, you should also not try this while operating heavy machinery.)

Me:  “What the heck were you talking to X about?  It seemed like you were settling in for the night.”

Him:  “Really?  It didn’t seem that long to me.  We were talking about where he was from.”

Me:  “No, it was endless–I was like ‘hello’ we are just stopping by here.”

Him:  “I am not sure you should have caramel macchiatos at this time of night.”

Me:  “OK fine,

And then he said, and his is why my husband has a very successful career in helping people live better lives.  “I don’t think that at this point, how your family perceives me is really going to change how you feel about yourself.”

Me:  “I know.  But I think we could give it a try.”

I traveled with my kids this week over a 4-day period.  We left the beach community where we live on the Pacific to go to a beach community across space and time on the Atlantic.

2 cross country flights (1 w/screaming baby whole way, 1 with 4hr delay—happily spread between the two), 2 grandmothers, 3 aunts, 1 uncle, 1 little cousin and 6 friends later here I am.

I really struggled on this one.  Yes, I know it is a great luxury to be able to travel.  But the time constraints on my end and for the many people listed above, we had a very short window for this experience.  Also, my husband, who travels for a living, wasn’t going.

Before I left I freaked out.  I was afraid of the travel, exhausted, decided that I really did not want to leave my husband who is always ‘heading out’ and for this one summer is ‘staying in.’ I felt like I needed to call a time out, packing took about 3xs longer than usual.  Somewhere in there I mentioned to my daughter that this trip might be a bridge too far for me and she left to cry quietly in her room.  We were going.

(I will also mention that my husband, who was in on the ‘not sure about this trip’ conversation explained to her: ‘You know, mommy might not feel like this is the best time, she has to do everything, carry everything on a trip like this and….etc. etc.’   It look me about an hour into being at the airport to connect that conversation to the fact that my daughter kept trying to lug suitcases that were too heavy and really scolded her younger brother for not carrying his backpack filled with stuffed animals.  It made me feel both terrible and touched.)

I push, I push a lot to make things ‘work.’  It is that kind of mind set that made me think; Oh, Jasmine has a mandatory program ending at 3:30pm on Friday (that I have to be at) and everyone (on the other coast) can only be there for a day or two:  “We’ll take the red eye!”

The jury is not in on whether to put this behavior in my plus or minus column.  I always ‘make things work’ and I get the good of that and the exhaustion of that consistently.

I am glad I went.  We chocked a lot of fun into those days.  I believe in this–Family, beach, cousins from different coasts having this ‘time outside of time’ summer experiences together.  It is amazing.

The kids were great the whole time and a little bonkers because they are kids.  (I once thought of writing a book on traveling with children and then realized that the total sum of my advice had to do with allowing Sprite and having a lot of candy in your bag.)

There is an intensity in moving young people and yourself through the myriad of minor challenges and ragged out moments (Read 4-hour delay that you don’t hear about until you are in the classroom-sized waiting area and unable to leave back out to the main [find more candy] terminal.)

The following typified it for me:  The kids hands were sticky heading through security, as everything is when you travel with kids.  (What are they doing, rubbing everything on their hands and upper cheeks all the time?  They seem coordinated enough, but hand them ANYTHING on a trip:  a piece of gum, a lifesaver, a banana, a glass of milk and they are sticky like you can’t believe—and upset about it.)  Anyway, they were sticky and I forgot to grab napkins and as I am heading into line my mom who is rifling through her bag on the other side says—Oh, I’ve got wipes—-and hands me 4 Always wipes.  I look at them, process the fact that Always is a feminine product not exactly a hand sanitizer item and say, “Can I get like 6 more?”

Epilogue:  I am doing what I need to do to have the life I want—have the kids connected to their extended family while I get to live where I want.  I pushed myself on this one, and I am not sure how I feel about the pushing I do.  And, I spent the next 10hrs making it work by rubbing my kids mouths with feminine hygene wipes and being frankly grateful I had asked for more.

I haven’t written much lately because:

a. We went on a trip

b. It is the end of the year and there is a lot going on and this is our month of birthdays and all of a sudden my ‘free’ time is being spent making lists of ‘who is comings’ and pricing out animal cupcakes

c.  There are always a million more good reasons NOT to take time to write than reasons TO write.

d.  I am just tired, and once you (I) get out of the habit of something it is harder to get going again—it is always easier to maintain something then get it off the ground.

Nonetheless,

I am sitting here this morning feeling hampered by a whole bunch of things I have chosen.  I am committed this morning to going into my daughter’s school to work on finishing the book project I started with her class ‘just for fun.’  I am also planning out the 20 minute yoga session I teach them on Tuesdays.  I also just realized that I need to find or make (find) 22 banana muffins today because tomorrow is Jasmine’s birthday in the class and with this new move toward nutrition in our school the old faire (some nice gloppy cupcakes in colors you would not find in nature) will not suffice.

I am imagining a day/a world where I don’t have to do these things and I can just go into the office (where I feel like I have a lot to do) and work with no interruptions.  That, I am imagining is my perfect world whereas I am here in this one where I am doing all these things this morning—and not even exercising is what I also am complaining to myself about.

In moments like this I feel like I am receding, I just want to curl up and do nothing—I want to ‘get out of it’  (At 40, I am wanting to ‘get out of’ the things I have created, planned, thought up, committed to.  I feel like I am 12.)

But I know I am missing something—obviously gratitude for the life I have—seriously, but also something else.  There is something about aligning values and actions that gets lost to me in moments like this. My friend in NY forwarded me a copy of her son’s preschool picnic/fundraiser announcement with the note:

I was going to complain that I just can’t handle any more of these things – like it’s sooo much to do all the time.  But, then decided I would say that it’s nice that life is so full.

Note that she is a gov. official and has way less flex time than I do.

So, today, life is so full, so full of ALL of the things I want and I get to walk my talk about what is important, all day long.  So, I am writing about it, because that makes me feel better and I am going to sign off, get Dylan some breakfast because he keeps asking and then run headfirst into this day and headfirst into a gaggle of rowdy second graders.  (I am saying headfirst b/c it feels good–headfirst feels active, not receding, embracing–I like the image.)  So, I’ll go headfirst into my work and try being grateful that everything is so full because full is fun and exciting and interesting and honestly, I’ve had ‘empty’ and I choose this.