telling and talking

What if I have it again, tonight? I... it....

Tonight I'll stay with you from the beginning and let's see what happens.

I love you, Mom, he sighed.

I love you, too.

We got cozy under the blankets.

You know that kid on the playground with the purple tie-dyed shirt? He's really not nice to me.

Really? I thought you wanted to be friends with him.

I used to, but now I hate him.

Why?

He always side-swipes me.

What does that mean?

He bumps into me and makes me fall.

On the play ground?

On the play ground.

So what do you do?

I run away when he gets close to me. I'm really fast and he can never catch me.  He's part of this group. There are 3 kids who do this.

Why do you think?

Because I'm friends with Mark. They really don't like Mark.

I like Mark. He's a good kid.

Yeah, me too.... I have 2 friends, which isn't as many, but it's okay.

We were quiet awhile.

There was this college kid who made a YouTube video that really wasn't nice to Asians and it got a lot of people mad. Did you hear dad and I talking about it?

Yah. Ching wang wong! he exclaimed with a chuckle.

Well. Some of the responses to her video were really mean. Like really bad, with horrible swear words and threats! But there was this one guy who was very clever. He wrote a song to her! And it was really funny, I'm going to have to show it to you. He made fun of the things she said, but in a totally creative and almost nice way. Instead of just shoving it back and saying 'you're an idiot' he sang this song with the sweetest melody and pointed out the ways that she was just being silly and it was just so funny! He got almost 3 million hits on YouTube and now everyone wants to listen to him and be his fan.... My point is. Don't just do the same thing back to those boys. Even if you you have good reason, do the same thing back and you're no better than those kids and it will just make things worse. Running away and making a game out of it, outwitting them in smarter and not-hurtful ways, having a good sense of humor, and especially not abandoning your friend Mark shows that you have really good character! Other people will respect you and more importantly, you can respect yourself for doing the right thing.

Now what about that other kid that was chasing you? That looked fun.

Yeah. That's different. His name is John.

I asked his dad, today, if he could come for a play date.

You did?

They're coming next Friday I think.

Cool.

You want to know something really cool? John's dad grew up in Sunny Patch and was good friends with a boy who grew up in our house! So his dad knows this house really, really well!

Do you think he's been in my clubhouse?

Probably. You'll have to ask him.

So John and I are the next generation!

Yes, the next generation.

more pillow talk

Move over, Jake.

You're so nice to me, Mom.

Of course I am, I'm your mom!

Well, I'm sorry if you're angry at me about this.... He buried his head in his pillow.

How can I be mad at you for something you can't help? I know you don't want this.

I'm just glad you're not mad at me, as he wiped away tears.

Of course I'm not mad at you!  Now forget your math book, tomorrow, and I might get mad! But I'm not mad about this. If anything, I worry something might be upsetting you and I want to figure out how to help you.

I really can't think of anything right now.

Good! Then just close your eyes and sleep.

hopeful

My husband and I come from sink or swim backgrounds. My parents, in particular, did not have the resources for any of us to have issues, so we just couldn't have them. Bad grades? Just study harder. Keep forgetting something? Just remember. In my case, it went a little further. Without fail, there was always punishment, but little if any help in making a plan to do better. We had to deal and just figure it out, simple as that. Maybe it was hellish at the time but I didn't know any different. My forgetfulness at this point allows me to conclude that I'm better off for all that no-nonsense. In fact, I believe my sisters and I could each survive in the wilderness if we had to. You couldn't tell by looking at us that we're sisters, but we do have something much in common. We each tend to be very resourceful and tough, and especially when the chips are down, we dive in.

The world we live in now seems a lot different from the one I grew up in. Parents (including me) are more afraid to say no to their kids and take a tough stance. There is a lot more concern about a child feeling good about themselves. This is all fine and dandy, but I've sometimes wondered if some of the 'challenges' our kids have today are a direct result of psychological indulgence. We yack more than we do. I wonder if our kids wouldn't be better off by just willing themselves to get over whatever it is they have to get over, without mulling so much over how and why they feel.

I grew up thinking that people who saw psychologists and therapists were undisciplined and weak in the head. I remember my mother telling me that the children of psychologists had the worst problems of all. Personal experience did nothing to change my beliefs. There was a time when I went out of my comfort zone and actually sought help from a professional. It was in college when it was free, but the one session was so stressful at the hands of some puffed-up therapist, it scared me away forever. There was also a time that my older sister approached a teacher about what was going on at home during high school and this teacher responded in utter disbelief. My little sister was always the best at shrugging almost anything off. Really, we've just  been lucky to have each other. We don't exactly talk much about our childhood, but it does come up now and then, and it's nice to not have to explain it or be put in the unfortunate position of defending anything or anybody.

My point is. My own history has contributed to this extreme reluctance for the school psychologist to be in on Jake's situation. I ended up having no control over the matter because Jake's teacher initiated the invitation. I was not very willing to get into the details with him and even after he met with Jake, I followed up with email instead of calling. But now there was increasing pressure. The nightmares were not going away as I had hoped, and after several weeks of this, Jake's despair has only grown. Our pediatrician -an old school kind of guy, who I absolutely trust and respect - has been reassuring in his belief that this is all developmentally normal for now, but has not been able to advise on how we're going to get through this.

I've been hurting for some guidance. But what can I say? These past few years have shown me how special needs has become such big business in metro NY. I'm suspicious of professionals who go looking for problems, especially in this part of the country where there is extreme wealth. I don't need someone to tell me that something is wrong with my kid. I don't need someone potentially putting words into my vulnerable kid's mouth and imposing his own agenda. I absolutely hate it when people cannot justify or even explain their services. (I'm like a doctor, an OT therapist told me once. But you're not, I wanted to tell her.) People are so free to just ramble on their soap box and come up with conclusions, when I just don't feel most professionals are really capable or patient enough to understand the complexity of many layers. Instead they form snap judgements and by the way, here's the bill and a prescription for a sleeping pill.

Yesterday morning, I put on my best, easy-going smile when I shook hands with the school psychologist. I was a little unnerved that he was going to be present at this meeting with Jake's school teacher. We were talking about Jake's academic progress and how things were going. Shouldn't we be meeting him at another time? Why was he there? I braced myself for the psychobabble.

We spoke in depth with Jake's teacher for the first 45 minutes. We ended up staying with the psychologist for another hour. You know what? The surprising truth is, the last hour was much more helpful than the first.

The psychologist had a lot of goal-oriented ideas that I hadn't thought of. Ways we could approach talking or not talking to Jake about his sleeping and the nightmares. Ways to embolden him to take action at home and in the classroom. Suggestions he had to get him generating more ideas at home to help with his writing, etc. But there was one important message, in particular, that I took to heart and needed to hear.

The family should be oriented towards the oldest child. The oldest child is generally the example and the younger ones should be conditioned to look at what's to come by orienting towards the oldest child. And this is where we've seriously had it all backwards. Our entire family has instead been oriented towards the younger, squeaky wheel and on that squeaky wheel's every breath and accomplishment. When the squeaky wheel speaks, we stop. I mean, with an autistic child you just do that. They reach out to interact, and even if they are interrupting something very important, of course you stop everything and respond because you want to encourage that interaction! But Belac is talking now, he's interacting more now, and this routine cannot continue. It is to Jake's detriment if we don't stop this and orient more towards him, eldest child or not.

The other thing he told me is that it's not too late and it's never too late to do more for Jake. He likened this process to rebooting and kept stressing how lucky we were to be addressing all of this before middle school. He also told me that it might feel like all of this heavy lifting makes no difference but made the case that this is simply not true. He alluded to a story in Greek mythology that made me laugh with amusement.

I left the meeting feeling empowered and like we had a plan. If I had just stayed for the first 45 minutes, I'd still be trying to figure out what to do by myself. This guy - a psychologist of all things - managed to give me some very sound suggestions without turning me off. Amazing! He helped me.

he's right

It's happening, again...

It's okay, I'm right here! I stroked his head as I sat on his bed. How many more times would this happen before he could fall asleep tonight?

Will I ever sleep like normal again? Yes, I reassured him. Move over, sweetie pie.

I love your bed. I think it's the nicest bed in the house, I told him.

Yah, Dad loves it too. I heard him chuckle. It's not really for two people, though.

Maybe not for two grown people, but we kind of fit temporarily. Remember the guy who came and painted the house? He and his wife slept on a single bed like yours for 10 years.

Really?

Yup. They didn't have money for a new bed. Then Allie's mom gave them an old bed they didn't need anymore that was much bigger.

We're really lucky.

Yes, we really are! Dad loves the fireplace and the ping pong table, too. Isn't the fireplace your favorite thing?

Yeah, the fireplace. But mostly I love the people in the house.

mind made up

What started off as any weekday breakfast ended with Jake sobbing into my shoulder, this morning. I ran Belac off to school and came home, breathlessly, to just wrap my arms around him and listen.

I don't know why Mrs. Pomme (his school teacher) has to yell all of the time, was a reoccurring comment.

It kills me to know what this kid has been holding inside him. And to realize how our move here to Sunny Patch has gone fairly smoothly for everyone but him.... He is - in general - a happy, easy going kid, but he also internalizes things when he doesn't feel confident. And he just wants people to like him and appreciate him. I should know, he takes after me.

I had my time in Boston, last week, and came to some realizations that were only underscored by the events of this morning. Unless my husband loses his job, I am not looking for full-time work. I will probably never be able to say that I taught at Juilliard or coached at the Met, and it comes up now because some of my colleagues are now assuming positions in those places having not ever really paused for kids or family... but actually, it is okay. Of course, there will be days that I will feel that I squandered my education and opportunities, but what is it that I really want?

On Saturday night, my dad told me that he was so touched by my performance. He noticed that I let my colleagues have their moments of glory but that I had a really powerful and beautiful presence throughout. Some other sweet soul told me that she weeped in the slow movement of the Schumann. Do I really need someone from the Boston Globe to validate my performance and other people's experience?  I'm reminded of the night before I married my husband.... My father-in-law, someone who took awhile to like and know me, told me that my husband chose the best girl out there. That's also something I won't forget too soon.

It's really important to me that what I do is meaningful. But as someone who spent much of her adult life trying to be distinctive at something and receiving a certain recognition, I think it can be tricky because there isn't the same kind of prestige or recognition for 'just' being a mom. Especially if society's measuring stick doesn't so easily reflect my own childrens' strength or potential. I may have won awards and graduated with distinction from Juilliard, but I'm not exactly getting recognition for being a good mom, even if I'm a better mom than a pianist, even if being a good mom is so much harder than being a good pianist. So the recognition of the job I'm doing and the effort I'm making with my kids has to come from a more meaningful and true place, from the core of me.

It would be easy for me to curse the challenges but it gets me nowhere good. Especially because there's a lot that's good.  My husband is able to be the sole financial provider for the family. I thus have the unusual freedom and opportunity to help my kids. And frankly, there is nothing I'd rather be doing than being with Jake over hot cocoa and a box of kleenex before bringing him late to school. First things first, Regina used to say to me. Just writing her name here makes me tear up. I miss her.

I'm keeping my little, family-friendly business but working on making it better.

the life

Checked into the hotel and prepared goodies for the family's late arrival. Cupcakes, salty snacks, berries, orange soda and wine - a little something for everyone and the makings of what Belac describes as a cast party. The dress went pretty well, today. Now waiting on my cousin to have dinner.

I was busy these past few days. Lots of music and catching up with my colleagues, late dinners and early practice. Didn't really have the chance to miss my family, but now that they're on their way I want them to be here already!

This is the life!

unclogging

Belac 3/11

It's 11:30 PM. The plumber has been here 2 hours already. 3rd time this year. Seriously. I want something meaningful to do? I should become a plumber.

Tonight, a friend grilled me hard about why I want the job. Rather. Why I applied for the job. I teach 2 of her 3 children piano. She brought me to hot yoga. She's a class-act flutist who does opera work during the summers but is also figuring out her life. I think she gets me and finally said a few things to me tonight. She thinks I'd be happier with more serious piano students and that I should be accepting students by audition only. You need to be pounding the pavement and pitching your classes to every special needs school in Westchester County, she continued. To be honest, I'm just not sure you'd be happy at this job, much less any full-time job. You already have something good going! But you have to fix it.

I go to Boston tomorrow morning. I laid in Jake's bed talking to him as he fell asleep. His anxiety over sleeping and being by himself continues. If this happens while I'm gone, go ask Nanna to work on her computer at your desk until you fall asleep. Or go find dad and ask him to lay down with you. Don't just tell them you're having weird stuff again, give them ideas of what they can do, okay?

So I'm going to see you in 3 days?

3 nights and 4 days.

What day is it tomorrow? He sighed. I wish it was already Friday.

I love going to Boston, but if I could stay home at this point I would. And that is what it all boils down to. I am ambitious, but everything comes second to my kids. The truth is, I want to be with them.

fortune

Went to lunch with my parents.

My fortune: You are a lover of words, someday you should write a book.

Apparently, your fortune doesn't come true unless you eat the whole cookie, and that's only after you choose the cookie that's pointing at you. (Kind of like it's bad luck to clink glasses with someone and not look that person in the eye. My sister goes further and claims it invites bad sex.)

I don't like the taste of fortune cookies but I do love words. Just in case, in preparation for someday, I made sure to eat this one.

P.S. I applied for the job.

Monday List

First day of spring and it's snowing heavily and accumulating. My parents have been walking around inside with their jackets on. Where are you going? I keep asking them. And then I realized. I need to turn the heat up for them.

I think Belac's love for Lily is good for him, even while recognizing that I keep trying to restrain him. He was V.I.P. at school last week. He had to color and fill out a poster that was all about him. In one box it prompted: I show others I care by ___ and he filled in, saying good things to people. Under those words, he drew two figures. A boy saying 'I love you' to a girl. I asked him who those stick figures were. That's me and that's Lily, he replied. It really stresses out my husband. Let's just be clear, Gimky, when Lily falls for another boy, which she will, it's going to be devastating for Belac. He's not going to know how to deal with it. I really don't like how much he likes her because there's going to be trouble in the future.

I hadn't really thought about the future. Why is assuming the worst supposed to protect us. Why not just assume the best possible outcome and if not, well, we'll work it out? I hadn't imagined her falling in love with another kid. And yes, it will likely happen and Belac will be devastated. But that's the thing about love, right? It knows no boundaries. You can't just tell someone to turn off their feelings. So why not just go with it. In the grand scheme of things, this innocent time when he dares to love and express so freely is going to disappear in the blink of an eyelash. It's young, unadulterated love.

A few play dates ago, I went upstairs to check on Lily and Belac. I asked them, what are you guys doing?  They were in his clubhouse. Lily told me, we were just talking. Belac told me he's going to take care of me forever. I just about died. That's nice. Now let's go down and have snack! I directed them.

Yes. It will be absolute heart break for him when that day arrives. But good and better that he loves and loves deeply.

it's love

Belac 2/11

Last night, we walked Lily home. This is the girl that Belac has declared he will love "forever and ever and ever and ever." This is the girl that I have continuously reminded him not to smother. He has written about her. There was even a letter he addressed to her, asking her to come for a sleepover, but which I made him change to just dinner. She is really such a sweet, bright kid who has a lot of spunk. She always plays the pianos right away when she comes over and will say, did you hear what I just played? I made that up! She runs around playing with the dog and smothers him with affection. She loves arts and crafts and they play pictionary together. I notice she listens to Belac's stories to the very end - even if they are a bit repetitive and nonsensical - and she really looks at his drawings.

Yesterday, they joined in on Mario Kart with the older boys. She was just terrible but really wanted to play. Every time she veered off a bridge and had to start over again, holding everyone up, Belac said to her with such tenderness I never heard. "It's okay, Lily. Just keep driving straight and you won't fall off the bridge." This from someone who would normally be losing it because 1) she kept falling off the bridge each time despite his repeated instructions and 2) someone was holding up the game.

We walked her home on this sunny Friday, each holding one of her paintings that were yet to dry. I made chitchat with the mom, who I'm not sure has had enough interaction with Belac to know. I think she just likes that I take Lily for a few hours now and again (for the 4th time, actually, but who's counting?) Belac has never yet been invited to their picture perfect house. Our dogs sniffed each other and Lily ran to the backyard.

BYE BYE, BELAC! we heard her yell.

BYE BYE, LILY! Belac yelled back.

We started on our walk down the hill.

BYE BYE, BELAC! we heard again. Now we saw Lily at her front stoop waving when we turned to look.

BYE BYE, LILY! Belac screamed back and then with his hands making a megaphone around his lips, I LOVE YOU!

good for me

Belac 2/11

Parents come into town, tomorrow. They will help with the boys when I'm in Boston next week, to do the thing that some people in suburbia don't really understand.  Good for you for doing something for yourself, I've heard. Or, that's great that you keep it up! I don't know why those comments make me uncomfortable but they do.

Do they see me with my kids too much to think that I could actually play the piano? One person even laughed when I mentioned that I had a concert. What was there to laugh about? Maybe he thinks it's cute that I'm going to try to play the piano for people?

Anyway. I really don't need for these people to understand, though they do have it mostly right. Good for me!

mostly Mozart

Belac 3/11

Last year, I tuned into Boston Public Radio just in time to hear a live recording of the Mozart Wind Quintet. I was on my way to rehearse with my chamber group and had just reached that point on the 90 Interstate where I could get reception. I missed the opening bars, so it took me a minute to figure out what the piece was and a little longer, as I hummed along, to remember that I had performed this piece before. I sped along and listened intently.

The clarinetist had a gorgeous sound and I loved the timbre of the french horn.  I was also impressed by the pianist, who weaved between the fore and background, and managed to keep the running passages delicate yet brilliant. The tempo was edgy and aggressive at times, but there was such repose, too! And I loved how the group all really breathed together. It was fun to listen to and I was engaged to the very last note.

You know what then happened? The radio broadcaster phased out the applause and proceeded to announce the members of the group, ending with "and at the piano, Gimky Snowflake."  I nearly drove off the road. I really could not believe it. That was me??

And that's the thing about life. It's hard to know, objectively, if you're doing the right thing and doing it well when you're in the thick of it. If someone had handed me that recording right after the concert, 10 years ago, I would have heard everything that didn't go quite right. I would have held my breath over tricky passages and would not have enjoyed it like I did on the drive. More importantly, because I didn't know that the pianist on the recording was me, I just sat back and enjoyed it with a different set of ears, maybe even better ears.

My sister told me the other day that she thought my life had only become truly stable in the past few months. I never thought about it in quite that way. She pointed out. There was the year of carrying the other house and then this whole thing with Belac and just making everything okay with everything else. It's not like you've been doing nothing for the past 5 years, Gimky.... I'm just saying that you should stop being so hard on yourself.

The cover letter for that job has only gotten worse with my fussing. I realize I might be catwalking in a pair of shoes that don't fit. And on that note, I run off to teach my favorite classes of the week!

best foot where?

Belac 2/11

Something was very wrong with my cover letter and I really needed help. I emailed my application to a few people to proofread. Everyone liked the resume and sheet of photos. But each had different ways of nicely telling me that the cover letter was adequate at best.

My husband's aunt, who runs a nursery school on the west coast, called and complained that the font was too small. Easy fix. And I don't know how to say this, Gimky, but I don't like the first line.... Allie, a professor, emailed: It reads a bit dry, which may be the ambivalence about the job showing through. And finally, I had my husband sit down and read.

Wow, he told me, I wouldn't believe you wrote this unless you told me.

I know, I know. It's bad. You need to help me!

I want you to tell me, right now, in 2 sentences why you want this job.

I wrote it, right there. Read! I squirmed.

No, Gimky. You have not expressed why you want this job. Why do you want this job?

You know why I want this job, and now I was exasperated, just help me write this thing!

I'm not writing this for you! He laughed. You don't need me to help you write, Miss Once Upon a Snowflake!

I sighed heavily. You know why I want this job? Because the hours are good and it's close by!  That's the truth and that's the problem. I want to use my skills and be creative! But do I really want to teach a bunch of insanely privileged kids from probably neurotic families whose only benchmark for success is getting into Harvard? And frankly, the school doesn't need me. There will be plenty of unemployed Juilliard grads applying for this job and any of them would be fine at this school.

You know that job I desperately wanted last year but didn't get? It was for a very similarly described music teaching job, also at a very elite private school. But for high-functioning kids with special needs. Well. If I can just say so, myself. That letter I wrote was damn good!

just another day

Belac 3/11

There was early dismissal at the kids' school over a defective fire alarm, yesterday. School was cancelled today, too. Whereas I can practice through any kind of mayhem and tune everything out, I cannot write unless I'm alone. It was a good day for Bartok.

My boys are now skyping with their cousin in Michigan. The cameras have been rolling for the past hour and it is really the sweetest, funniest thing! No one has always been by the computers, but people keep passing by either camera and conversations happen spontaneously or not at all. Technology is amazing.

springing forward

Belac 3/11

It actually feels like spring today. The birds are chirping again and there's just that feeling in the air. This morning, I saw the hawks flying in wide arches above our street and then returning high up in the evergreens. They are awesome to watch in the air, but then completely menacing-looking, sitting so still, black, and almost unreal on the limbs. Could they really eat Bailey?

I really need to scram and go practice. My quick list:

1) Jake slept well and with no problems for the 2nd night in a row. I'm relieved.

2) I need to decide if I'm applying for this job. I'd work many more hours for not that much more pay. I'd also miss drop off and pick up, everyday, when I've been in casual touch with the kids' teachers. Maybe a step or two back would be a good change for all. Maybe even Belac would benefit from a little less of my hovering. Maybe. Or maybe not. But if I don't decide what I want soon, I'll miss the application deadline.

3) An old friend's dad died last week. He posted that he owed everything to his father, who had taught him about loving the animals he now sculpts at a world renowned museum. That is a very beautiful sentiment. And the sweetest kind of experience that a parent and child can share.  

Sunday Funday

Belac 3/11

Jake and I spent the afternoon together. I first dragged him to get his hair cut, which he wants to grow long.  He sulked and protested aggressively all the way to the shop, but I discussed in detail with the barber beforehand and when Jake put on his glasses at the end, he allowed a small grin on his face.  It doesn't look that different, he told me. But it looks neater and more stylish! I pointed out.

We also visited a couple of stores to buy him new shoes. As I stood in line to pay for our purchases and watched Jake jump around in his new sneakers, it occurred to me that I rarely shop for Jake by himself. We always have his brother with us, who pulls me in other directions. Today, Jake had my full attention and over his own appearance, which is starting to matter to him. I steered him clear of some ghetto looking shoes and childish ones with velcro. And thank God we got his hair straightened out.

Last night, he went to Allie's for a sleepover with her older son. Interestingly enough, no nightmares! Soon Will comes by to help fix the ping pong table that has been out of commission for 4 weeks. All in all, a very good Sunday!

running

Belac 3/11

My husband is Canadian. By nature, Canadians are pretty sporty and rugged. They're outdoors year round. They walk and hike everywhere, and everyone skis and skates. My husband also grew up swimming in a lake, mountain biking all over unpaved and steep terrain and running wild with his brothers on a daily basis. He's very strong for someone who is so compact and being physically active his whole life, he barely lasts a day without running 6 miles. That said, he was never good at team sports in school. Looking back, he can see how hard it was socially to not be on a team with the rest of his peers. Even as an adult, today, he has learned the importance of scanning the sports headlines, just to be able to follow and understand the chitchat at work.

I told my husband, early this morning, the first time we woke up in bed together all week.  Can you take Jake running with you? You run all of the time and it's something you could do together. He's lean and tall, and with some training he could build endurance. There's a track team in middle school....  Running would be good for him, my husband agreed. Gimky, he really needs to feel better about himself. And for this to happen meaningfully, he has to work hard and excel at something and achieve something he can be truly proud of. It can be anything, but we have to help him find that something that he shines at.

It's so true. There's Belac who has been drawing and writing in his diary since 6:30 this morning. He has obvious challenges but has found his passion and the thing that distinguishes him. I want to be an Artist! he tells people. I want to be an Author! Then there's Jake, who is supposed to be better off because he doesn't have all that paperwork trailing him, but is basically kind of floating about, trying to find himself. He doesn't know what he wants to do and he's not very sure of himself. Interestingly, he doesn't have even half the support his brother does all day long.

So they're back now and I'm impressed, Jake ran 2 miles at the track. My husband and him threw a frisbee around for awhile, too. Jake, my sweet boy! Let's figure this out.

pillow talk

Late last night, after trying several times to sleep on his own, Jake joined me in bed. I held his hand and tried to distract him.

I'm so glad Joe can come for a play date. I like him and he sounded super excited when we invited him.

Yeah, he chuckled, he said he would love to come.

That's right. And when I called his dad, he said 'Sweet! I just have to make sure it's okay with Joe's mom.'

That's what he said? Sweet?

Yup. That's what he said.

Mom, he told me after a few minutes of quiet, there are only a few boys that don't play a sport. Most of the kids, all they talk about is baseball and soccer. I like ping pong and dodge ball, but those aren't really sports so I don't really have anything to talk about.

I was so glad and relieved to be hearing this. At least I can help him if he tells me what's going on. I asked which boys didn't play a sport and filed their names away, but also pointed out how different some of my even good friends were.

Before he drifted off, he added. You know, if I was an only child, I wouldn't have to share my chocolate with anyone. I could just have the whole piece. Yes, I agreed, but if you didn't have a piece of chocolate and your brother did, you'd get half a piece you otherwise didn't have. 

You know, I call Auntie Krissy whenever anyone's sick, right? I call Auntie Sandy whenever I'm sad or confused about something, she always makes me feel better. And everyone relies on me to plan all the parties. Growing up, there were times my sisters and I fought A LOT and drove each other crazy. Even now we don't always get along 100%. But guess what? They are 2 people I can always trust and rely on and I hope it will be the same for you when you and Belac are older. 

at capacity

Belac 3/11

Sick as a dog. Came home from teaching and dragged myself up into the guest room. Could barely kick off my shoes before getting under the covers, coat and all.  Either it's from being on night call all week or more likely, putting my body through the trauma of hot yoga yesterday.  I think it's safe to say I'm not trying that again.

I've come up with a good name for the guest room. The TLC Unit. It has only capacity for 2, though, so at this point no one else is allowed to need it.

Be well and stay strong, my friends.

hot yoga

A friend had been gushing about her hot yoga class and invited me today. I've never done yoga, but how hard could it be? I still do back bends and cartwheels for my kids, surely my flexibility counted for something.

So there I was, today, like a fish out of water in a completely hot room that smelled like the worst pair of dirty socks you could imagine. It wasn't too bad in the beginning when I had just come in from the cold.  Pretty soon, though, my sweat was dripping into my eyes and the poses kept getting harder. The room was at least 90 degrees hot and the humidifiers were going on full blast. I looked at the clock at one point. OH MY GOD, we were just half-way through. When was the last time I did something for 90 minutes without taking a break? I never ever sweat so much in my life. What had I been thinking? I came to class with just a cup of coffee in my stomach!

15 minutes before the end I was spent. I could no longer will myself to do more. I laid on my back and tried to concentrate on the beautiful poses around me. I gulped down water and mopped my forehead with my towel. I tried to imagine the smell of lavender.  Where was that feeling of euphoria I was supposed to have? The conviction that I was unstoppable and could do anything? I could barely make it to the door to leave, I felt so sick. Well, the euphoria did eventually arrive. I was first elated to be outside again in the cold fresh air. And then I simply leaned over and barfed my brains out in the parking lot.  Seriously. It felt completely wonderful! I reassured my friend. She was so horrified, she could only laugh until she cried.

googling forbidden

 Belac 3/11

Husband out of town. Both boys happy to get tucked into bed together in the guest room. Almost immediately, though, Jake's nightmares began. I thought we could try some soft music but Belac didn't want the noise. I moved Jake into my bed.

Now I have Leister serenading us with the Adagio from Mozart's clarinet concerto. The poor kid. All he tells me each time is "I don't know what's going on, I just feel so unsecure" while rubbing the top of his head.  Another time he said to me, weeping, "what's wrong with me? I don't like this."

This has been suddenly going on since last Thursday and despite the fact that he hasn't had fever since Saturday. I have spoken to his doctor twice but now know it's time to get this checked out in person. The school psychologist was going to casually bump into Jake on the playground tomorrow but I'm concerned there's something more going on. What I don't know. It's 9:15pm and my husband is away. As usual when it's just me, I engaged the house alarm before coming upstairs. At least I know that I absolutely must not start googling and freaking myself out at this hour.

Going to bed and hoping this dear boy at my side is just going through a phase.

growing pains

Belac 2/11

Received a call from Jake's teacher, this morning. I had sent a note letting her know that Jake was not sleeping well. I asked her to let me know if there was anything noteworthy going on in school. We chatted for awhile.

Gimky, she asked before hanging up, has Jake voiced any concern that something might happen to you or his dad or brother?

No. Actually, he hasn't been able to articulate very much except that he's scared to be by himself. He says he's worried something bad might happen.

Because you know, she continued, it's been a very difficult time for some kids at school because of the moms who died recently.

We didn't know any of them well and it didn't occur to me that Jake might be worried.

I thought about it after we hung up. Last night, Jake left the guest room and again came to us. When I told him he could stay put with dad and I'd go sleep with Belac, he didn't want me to go. This morning, long after he was supposed to be up and dressed, he held my hand and told me he wanted to stay in bed with me.... And on Sunday, when I stressed the point to Jake that we could buy the roof only because dad worked really hard and was lucky for the kind of job he had, he pointed out to me. But dad couldn't do his job without you. Otherwise, who would take care of us?  True! I said, we're a team. But I also remember thinking, is he repeating something my husband said or did he just think that up himself?

And of course. Why didn't I think about it until now? 5 weeks ago, Regina died. There had been a lot of discussion leading up to her death about why and how she would come and live with us. And then there's been the whole preoccupation with life insurance, lately, and getting our affairs in order. How much had Jake overheard? Probably too much. I remember, too, that Jake asked me a few weeks back what would happen if my husband and I died. How would he have money and where would he and Belac live? I reassured him and answered his questions. But I forget that he's just 10 years old and it's not your typical conversation to have with a kid.

I realize now that it is quite possible he is worried about dying. In fact, he might not be worried so much about dying himself as he is about losing me or his dad.

brothers

Belac 3/11

Jake has not been sleeping well, recently. He has been having bad dreams. We tucked him in an hour ago but not long afterwards, he told me he again wasn't feeling secure. Could he sleep in the guest room? He and Belac had just slept there, last night, when the heavy rain and wind kept them both up. Do you want Belac to sleep with you? Would that help? Sure, he told me, it will probably help.

And so here my boys are, sharing the bed in this little room that I am also quite fond of. It's a sweet and cozy place in the middle of this long, skinny house. Jake is now snoring and in deep sleep. Belac is still moving about and humming. It is emotional for me to know that Belac can be of comfort to his brother. I've at times felt wistful, thinking that they don't have your 'typical' brotherly relationship. That Jake has missed out on having a more typical sibling he can rely on. But tonight I realize they have something uniquely their own and it's okay. In fact, it's very good.

fishing

 Belac 2/11

A friend forwarded me a job posting. It appears up my alley though I can't say I'm entirely comfortable with the demographic.  Let's just say that I am at my best when fighting for the underdog, the almost haves and have nots. In any case, I throw myself out there and will see what - if anything - happens.

benefits

 

Belac 2/11

I am practicing for a concert in a few weeks. The music is divine and carries me. Sometimes, though, especially when I'm not practicing regularly and don't have anything to practice for, I feel like such an impostor. I think, I'm not a pianist! How can I call myself a pianist! Some weeks I clean more than I practice.  I'm great at avoiding anything I need to get done by cleaning.

A real estate friend thinks I have a future as an agent or something in marketing because of how I sold the house last year. But I absolutely hate the idea of spinning things. As it is, I do practically nothing to sell myself as a piano teacher, even though I acknowledge that I might be quite good at it, especially for the non-conventional student.

Hey, I'm also good at throwing parties at home. On Saturday night, I overheard Jake's buddy say, "your mom really knows how to throw a party!" (Is it so terrible that a compliment from a 9-year old made me feel so cool?)

And today, TODAY. The sales guy came to measure and do the hard sell on the aluminum roof. The appointment was to last 1-2 hours but he was here for almost 3. I kept it perfectly nice and did not respond to his pressure. I bargained insistently and ever so reasonably for a better price. When he left, he said to my husband. "Wow, I mean, she knows her stuff. For sure you must bring her when you shop for cars, right?"  Oh come on, I said, I'm an embarrassment more than anything!  "No, it's good. You asked great questions. In fact, we should have you come work for us."

Ha! I laughed but was happy. I am 41 years old and still wonder what I want to be when I grow up. But I just have to allow myself a little pat on the back, today. After all, few things I do can be truly quantified and I did get us a great deal on the roof! WOO HOO! Interlocking aluminum shingles it is! All that practice advocating for Belac has certainly paid off in other ways.

Walk!

Belac 12/10

A mother at the kids' school died, yesterday. This is the 3rd mom that has died in just 4 weeks. We are a small school and the news has rocked the community. Someone even briefly posted "another Sunny Patch mom is dead" before coming to her senses.

Each of these moms were in their 40s and left young children behind. The first had a year-long struggle with cancer, the second died of a brain aneurism, the third of a massive heart attack.

My grandfather lived until 95 and was a smoker, but he walked 1 mile after lunch, everyday. Regina walked everywhere, too, and lived until 92. By the way, they were both voracious readers, as well, and had razor sharp minds until the day they died.

A friend of mine takes a brisk hour-long walk, first thing each morning. Every now and then she calls and invites me along. Okay, I told her today. No need to invite me anymore because you now have a partner!

Day 2

This very early morning, Jake came to my side of the bed with head all flushed. "Mom, I don't know why I'm being this way, but I'm scared to be by myself."  It's okay, I reached out for his hand, you're just not feeling good and it happens.  I pulled him into bed with us.

All day, yesterday, Jake wanted to be by my side. To the extent that for at least 2 hours, he laid on the couch listening to me tediously practice passages in a piece I'm learning, something he previously would have never endured. At one point, when I finally made it brilliantly through a hard lick, I heard him respond with a barely audible "yay."   I sent him up to take a bath at one point, and he called for me 3 times for no particular reason, even once asking why I didn't come immediately.

I am now sitting with him as he does classwork sent home from yesterday. I suggested that he take a nap this afternoon. He worried about having another nightmare.  I thought he could nap on the couch in my husband's office, where he's working from home today. That way he could sleep knowing dad was right next to him. Okay, he told me, I'll try.

My husband clarified something to me a few nights ago. It's not like these kids, Jake in particular, will grow up, grow apart, move out and not need us and our time with him is over.  Look at me, I need my parents, he told me. Look at you! You need your parents. It's not a feeling that just disappears.

I'm sorry Jake is sick. But it's been kind of nice to be reminded that he comes to me. I hope that never changes.

admission

Belac 2/11

What's wrong, Jake?  I don't feel good.  He had been sitting in front of his untouched breakfast for at least 10 minutes. I felt his head and went to find a thermometer. You're sick, sweetie pie. I want you back in bed right now!

My first call went to the school to cancel my classes. If Jake doesn't feel better by afternoon, I'll cancel my piano students, too. And this is why I'm lucky that I do what I do. I work for myself and am my own boss. If the kids are sick, I can cancel. Hopefully, I can make up the lesson some other time but if not, well, it's just music. Bottom line is, I'm not put in the terrible position of sending my sick child to school with ibuprofen in his system if I can't find last minute childcare.

Still. I have complained to my husband many a time. I spend more time cleaning than using my brain. And it doesn't always appear that the kids are benefitting from me. For all the time I spend with them, making sure they do what they have to do and go where they need to go, you'd think they'd be obvious super stars! But it's not like they're shimmering above the kids who have parents who work full-time. And it's not like Belac is going to be cured of autism and that Jake is necessarily bound for Harvard.

Just think how much worse it would be if you weren't home to help them, my husband pointed out. They'd be way worse off. I had to laugh. So all of this just to keep up? Great.

My own mom barely got out of bed in the mornings. We were always late to everything. We always had overdue books at the library. She had no idea what I did in school.  She cared enough that I got yelled at after every PT conference for never bringing home As, but I didn't get any help. I was just supposed to get miraculously better at school by studying harder, but looking back, I realize I didn't know how to study. It's a miracle that I made it to my music lessons every week and that for some reason I excelled at music. My sisters became medical doctors, they just did. Somehow we're all resilient and pretty well-adjusted, too. And this, I believe, is fundamentally why it's hard for me to understand why my kids need so much help.

It's not that I have better things to do than be my kids' mom. I don't. It's the most important role I will ever have in my life and I wouldn't have it any other way. But why is it so hard for my kids? Fine, I know Jake is doing much better in school. But it has also required my studying with him, everyday, and scheduling play dates like it's an academic enrichment. My sisters and I, on the other hand, made it somehow with none of this. So by this reasoning, aren't my kids supposed to be doing that much better than my sisters and me? Shouldn't it at least be easier for my boys? Instead, they might not even accomplish what my sisters and I have. Maybe they won't as easily find the friendships that sustain them, or in Belac's case, not find any at all. And, well. If I have to be utterly honest here. It's just not fair. There, I said it.

10

Belac 2/11

My boys walked with Allie's boys this morning and what a sight they were! All four wore colorful flannels as if going to bed, all had stuffed animals peeking out of backpacks. It's school-wide pajama day. Jake carried a large tupperware of brownies to share with his classmates. How could he be so lucky? He didn't even have to get dressed for his 10th birthday!

It's been a big year for Jake and with a cautious sigh of relief, I see that he is beginning to emerge from this transition period to Sunny Patch. I've been worried about him. And I have felt guilty at how we've kind of pulled him along for the ride these past years.

In early January, Jake's teacher took me aside. Can we talk?

We sat down the very next day. Her concerns were not anything I already didn't know. He's smart. But he's also very disorganized, needs to be reminded of everything, and not proactive. He also took it personally when anyone wanted to help him and she was concerned about how he was going to manage middle school next year.

His grades were fine but not at all consistent.  Regular and formal testing throughout 4th grade showed that on any given day, he was acing one test and bombing on another. But bombing not because he didn't know his material, they determined, but because for whatever reason he did not consistently present himself on paper. He worked too slowly and didn't have time to finish an entire page on his science test, for example. 10 points off there. Or he simply made careless errors, adding instead of subtracting, dividing instead of multiplying. He also rarely volunteered anything in class discussion.

We talked strategies. Nothing very earth shattering, there. We're both on top of him and would have to keep on it. But then I brought up the social piece, apologizing in advance for what might seem to this old-school, no-nonsense teacher as a parent's flaky concern. I noticed he had the smallest role in the recent play, I told her, and I know it was probably his choosing, right?  It was like pulling teeth, Gimky, she confirmed, calling me by my first name for the first time. Now we were talking more like human beings.

I told her about how Jake recently told me we had "no one" in class to call for help over his forgotten science books. His teacher's eyes widened and she at first said nothing. I even felt her get defensive, ticking off kids that she thought he got along with. I had never before mentioned how we had arrived to the school just last year and I think it never occurred to her there might be an underlying self-esteem issue. I told her how late in the previous year, he had asked to please, please go back to his old school. He had a lot of friends at his old school and well, things had now changed drastically in this way.

You know what happened that I find quite amazing? His teacher is not a softie, she's a 'I don't want to hear it, just do it'  kind of person. Two days later, Jake came home and said to me. Mom, the strangest thing happened in school today! Mrs. Pomme let all the girls and all the boys sit together. So guess what? I'm not sitting with the girls anymore, I'm sitting with 4 other boys! And she let me sit next to Ben. It's really weird because she normally keeps us separated all of the time because she thinks we talk too much to each other.  How do you feel about that? I asked. Great!!  Can you try to help each other stay out of trouble? Of course! he shrugged, that's what we always do.

This past month, he has bonded with the boys in his group. To the extent that he has made 2 buddies, in particular. Four 4th grade boys are coming this weekend to celebrate his birthday, all RSVPed immediately.

The other thing? Yesterday, he came to me with his folder. Mom, I want to show you something. 95% on a 25 word-problem math assessment (That's more like it!! his teacher wrote on the cover), 99% on spelling/dictation and... 100% on a 36 question science assessment on motion, force and magnetism. Wow! I said, hugging him. I know, he smiled proudly, I felt like showing everyone my grades! Did you? I asked. No, I didn't want to make anyone feel bad. That's my boy! I squeezed him more and kissed him.

I watched him sit down and start his homework without prompting. I observed him write a funny story with the most attention to detail I had ever seen from him. Last night, he came to me on several occasions to just hug me. It's usually the other way around. At 9:30pm I heard him call me from bed. MOM! You're taking so long! I almost fell asleep before you kissed me good night!  I was baking brownies for school, had he really been waiting an hour for me?

Mom, Jake told me this morning, maybe we should have a second snack in case some of the kids don't like the brownies. Really? Are you sure? I handed him a box of graham crackers. That's good, he told me, this way no one will go hungry. I'll bring 21 napkins, too.

My point is. Of course the things he has to figure out have not vanished over night. But feeling good about yourself is huge and effects everything. Maybe it's even everything when it comes to being generous, taking initiative and risks, accepting help, and just being able to perform to the best of one's ability.

Happy Birthday, Jake! I have learned everyday from you and am just so lucky to be your mom. I love you so much!

doing the right thing

Belac 2/11

Despite months of deep freeze, the melting snow reveals a roof that has green stuff growing all over it. As I walked home from school, this morning, I took a hard look. The roof is even sprouting leaves in some places!

We have been sitting on a roofing contract since November. We have reservations about going with asphalt shingles, even if they are the super-duper, beefed up 'architectural' ones. Yesterday, I called a Canadian-based company about their aluminum shingles. My first call was in September, but this time I was much more insistent and confident about the asbestos details having just decided on a company to remove the roof. We really want to do the right thing, and if we can swing it, I think aluminum is the way to go.

Aluminum shingles are almost 100% recyclable and don't end up in landfills like asphalt ones. Aluminum is also extremely energy-efficient, durable, and resistant to fire and rust. Boeing aircrafts are made of aluminum, the Washington monument is capped with aluminum...  I would like to add our house to that list, too, if at all possible! 

Today is Tuesday. The day I always visited Regina. It is now the day that I regularly contribute to the kids' college fund by way of scrubbing down the house. Time to go, duty calls!