Category Archives: Parenting

Mistaken Identity

May 9, 2012 in Parenting

Yesterday, when Zeca got home from school, I asked her how her day had gone and she gave me a serious stare and began shaking her head as she unpacked her lunchbox. I waited for a few moments and she finally said, “I had a bad day.” I’d already gotten a call from Miguel’s teacher on Monday so I wasn’t sure I could take any more “bad days”. I took a deep breath and gave her the look that said, “Go on…I’m ready and I’ll try not to yell.”

Zeca: Well, Rebecca will be visiting my class tomorrow.

Me: So?

Zeca: Mom! REBECCA. Don’t you remember? She beat me up last year* and made fun of me having two moms.

Me: Oh yeah, I remember her. You are an elementary kid now and she is still a kindergartner. She won’t do anything to you so just ignore her.

Zeca: It’s worse now!

Me: How can it possibly be worse? You’re not even in the same class.

Zeca: Now, she thinks I’m a boy and tries to kiss me all the time.

And then I laughed so hard that I had to hold on to the counter to keep from collapsing in a heap on the floor! It’s true that Zeca was all flowing hair and skirts and pastels last year and now she has short hair and wears plaid shorts and polo shirts but still. I wanted to say, “Oh honey, if Rebecca can’t tell that you are the same person, she’s too dumb to be a threat.” But I didn’t. Because I’m nice…and because I’m a parent and can’t say such things out loud.

Me: Maybe you should tell her who you are. Maybe she’s changed.

Zeca: She still likes princesses! She thinks she’s Rapunzel or Cinderella or something.

Me: Maybe she thinks you’re a prince

Zeca: I’m not a prince, mom.

Me: Sorry. I thought you might identify more with princes than princesses.

She rolled her eyes at me and said, “Obviously I would be the king.”

Obviously.

 

 *Note: Rebecca didn’t beat her up. She pushed her. 

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The Days Are Paper Thin

March 19, 2012 in Musings of the Zen Master, Parenting

How many questions are we asked each day? How many decisions must we make? When we are worn down by constant demands, it is easy to become rigid, to set strict limits and withhold explanations.

The days are sometimes paper thin, easily torn by shifting moods and impatience.

Today was such a day.

Miguel wanted to do something and we told him that he couldn’t and, after his incessant questioning, we refused to discuss it further. He went to his room angry. We were frustrated and let him go without another word.

Later, I went into his room to tuck him in and he was lying in bed looking at the ceiling. I sat on his bed and put my hand on his leg but said nothing. After a few moments, he sat up and spoke.

“I will always question authority. I will fight authority until I die. I see at as chains that hold me back from endless possibility.”

He was calm and earnest in his attempt to make me understand.

And I do understand. After all, I have watched him from the moment he took his first breath. I have born witness to his persistence and fearlessness again and again.

I nodded as he spoke. I told him that we don’t want to control him, that we set limits to help him learn to set his own, that we are imperfect people with his best interests at heart.

He took a breath as his eyes met mine. He stretched his palm out into the space between us and then curved his hand as if he were holding a ball.

“It’s like this. If you hold a bubble too tight, it will pop. If you loosen your grasp, the bubble stays whole. And sometimes, if you let it go completely, it will hover right in front of you without you having to hold it at all. Sometimes, if you let go, you may be surprised that good things happen.”

I sat there in awe as he explained the essential struggle of our relationship. We want to hold on but we have to let go. We have to let our children take risks and make their own mistakes. As tears rolled down my face, I swallowed hard and told him that bubbles are fragile, that sometimes we simply want to protect them.

He reached out and put his hand on my leg and said, “If you stay close, you can take the bubble in your hand and hold it when you need to.”

I pulled him into a hug and held him tight. I’m not ready to let go.

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Relativity

March 12, 2012 in Musings of the Zen Master, Parenting, Relationships

We had gone for a long meandering walk around campus that night. I don’t remember what we talked about but, given the length of that walk, I can only assume that we talked about everything. Somehow, we ended up in the gymnasium on central campus. I’m not sure what led us there or why it was open so late at night but we went inside.  It was empty, dimly lit and cavernous. We sat on the bleachers and said nothing as we stared down at our hands barely touching as they lay on the hard bench. When our eyes met again, we kissed. It was slow and deep and beautiful in its awkward imperfection. It was the first time I’d ever kissed a woman. It was a beginning.

That was the only kiss we ever shared but we became close friends. She continued dating the woman that she is still with today. I began dating a mutual friend of ours and we fell in love and then out of love but remained friends. Over 20 years have passed since that time.

Last Friday night, Zeca had a slumber party to celebrate her 7th birthday. She invited her 3 favorite girls over and we ordered pizza and made ice cream sundaes and watched a movie. They spent hours dancing and giggling with each other until they finally fell asleep. The next morning, I watched the girls as they packed their things and was struck by the unpredictability of life.

When I sat in that quiet gymnasium all those years ago and kissed my friend, I could have never imagined that her daughters would one day stand in my foyer with their arms around my daughter. When I met my first girlfriend on a crowded bus to DC, I could not have pictured her daughter grabbing sausage off of my plate and then running off to play.

One of my favorite lines from “The Way We Were” is, “Wouldn’t it be lovely if we were old? We’d have survived all this.” The scene is heartbreaking but the line itself has always reminded me of the relativity of time.

This weekend, as I watched my daughter and her friends – the daughters of my long time friends – I couldn’t help but think of the mingling of my past and present. I couldn’t help but wonder what will have meaning when I reflect on this time of my life 20 years from now.

Perhaps the greatest gift of age is perspective.

We are always beginning, always starting something that will unfold unexpectedly.

 

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A Yarn about Yarn

February 22, 2012 in Humor, Parenting

Zeca came home from school one day and excitedly showed me a fuzzy blue ball of yarn that a classmate had given her. Let’s call this classmate Gertrude. Zeca said, “Gertrude taught me to knit and gave me this yarn so that I could get started on a scarf!” I made excited clucking noises as one does when one is a distracted parent or a barnyard chicken. She continued, “She told me that I will have to go get some more and the only place they sell this kind is at Joann Fabrics so can you please take me to Joann Fabrics right now?”

I went to Joann Fabrics once and I didn’t like it. It is an ugly place and there is too much linoleum and the staff are all bitter white ladies wearing clothes they made themselves (in questionable patterns, I might add) and they are just looking for an excuse to patronize you. Plus, the fluorescent lighting doesn’t do anyone any favors. So, Zeca’s request to go to Joann Fabrics made me anxious in the “I will fake my own death to get out of this” kind of way.

In my sweetest and non-cluckiest voice, I said, “I can’t take you today but we will go at some point.” She nodded her head adorably and bounded off.

Within a week, she had used all of the yarn she had and asked again if I could take her to Joann Fabrics and, again, I said, “I can’t take you today.” Unlike the previous time, she did not nod adorably. She sneered. A sneer from her was better than a sneer from the crazy ladies at Joann Fabrics so I was undaunted regarding my current course of avoidance.

Several weeks passed and I was running errands with a friend and she mentioned that she needed to stop at the Crafty Planet to get yarn. This was my chance – I would buy Zeca a bunch of super soft yarn in a variety of colors and she would forget all about Joann Fabrics! I spent $40 on gorgeous yarn and, later that evening, presented it to her like an offering.

She smiled and said, “Thanks Mom. I really appreciate it but I still want to get the blue yarn from Joann Fabrics.” That was it. I needed to put an end to this.

Me: Honey, I think it’s time to move on about Joann Fabrics.

Zeca: But I want to finish my scarf and I need the same yarn.

She looked at me with those beautiful brown eyes and I did something I rarely do. I lied.

Me: Well, I went to Joann Fabrics earlier today and they didn’t have your yarn.

Zeca: They were out of it?

Me: Yep. All out.

Zeca: Weird. Gertrude came to school with several balls of it. She must have bought everything they had left.

Me (to Zeca): Yep.

Me (to myself): Sorry to pin the blame on you, Gertrude, but this has got to end and it ends today.

Me (to Zeca): Can we move on now?

She nodded sadly and went to knit with her expensive non-Joann Fabrics yarn. I had slayed the Joann Fabrics dragon! Huzzah!

A few days later, Zeca came home from school and said, “Mom! Gertrude came to school today with more of that yarn! They must have gotten more!”

Fucking Gertrude.

Me: I thought we had moved on.

Zeca: But I still want to finish that scarf. Can we please go to Joann Fabrics?

Me: I can’t take you today.

And we were right back where we started.

As Valentine’s Day approached, I realized that the perfect gift for her would be that damn yarn. So, I grabbed her unfinished scarf and drove to Joann Fabrics…except that, when I got to the store that I thought was Joann Fabrics, it was actually Hancock Fabrics and I realized I had no idea where Joann Fabrics was. I was so frustrated and – I have to be honest – I blamed Gertrude. This seemed like the perfect time to try out Siri on my fancy new iPhone.

Me: Where is the nearest Joann Fabrics?

Siri: I can’t help you right now. Try again later.

What?! Was she drinking gin and tonics and playing bridge with all the other Siris?

Me: Where is the nearest Joann Fabrics?

Siri: I can’t understand you.

This is not how it goes on the iPhone commercials.

Me (speaking slowly and with impeccable diction): Where. Is. The. Nearest. Joann. Fabrics?

She finally answered and I had to drive all the way from one undesirable suburb to another.

When I arrived, I dashed into the store, looked at no one and spoke to no one, wandered the aisles and finally matched the yarn. I briefly considered buying all of it so that I would never have to return but only bought four blobs of it.

On Valentine’s Day, I set the yarn out for Zeca with a box of chocolates and I was her hero for a day. Interestingly, she still hasn’t finished that scarf and the urgency seems to have passed. I’ve been given a reprieve.

I just hope Gertrude doesn’t take up bullfighting. We don’t have the space.

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