Book burning bon fire.
Ice skating through the woods.
The entire family on the treadmill almost every morning. A resolution we hope to keep into the new year. Both boys run and walk, Jake 2 miles and Belac, one.
Fresh bread and wine everyday and cooking....
Being one of hubby's siblings with fewer children, we were bumped out of our usual room this time. For awhile, we had the most children. Now some of hubbys siblings have 3, 4, and now 5 kids. I think people felt sheepish, even guilty to move us. The truth is, where we are now is I think the best room of all. It's cozy, compact and tucked away from all the bustle and noise. The kids are bunked up and the headboard of our bed is a winter wonderland scene out the window. It's very bright and reminds me there are positives and negatives to everything.
So. I've been sad and not really sleeping well this trip. The other sleepless night, hubby and I talked from 3am until the sun rose. I realize he is probably the one person in my life who listens to me properly and doesn't just barge in with advice or something he apparently knows that I don't. He can be very funny, especially at what should be very serious moments. My point is. I am lucky for my husband, who both loves and pokes fun at who I am. He encourages me to look on the bright side and nudges my chin up when necessary. He is not afraid to go against the grain, put up a good fight nor is he overly concerned about appearances....
So I approach the new year remembering I am not alone in my worries about my children and have hubby by my side. I don't take him for granted.
Resolutions for 2013: Chin up! Be brave and hopeful. Appreciate and be grateful. Peace be with us.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Heavy
Too many sleepless nights with Jake and all that time to worry about the kids? Freaked out about all the crazies and their guns? Thinking about my Singaporean friend? Still surprised at how hard school really is for the boys... Wondering what the point of this all is. Don't I go through this every year and it all passes, though? But this time I feel heavy and genuinely down. Either I look like hell or everyone is reading my blog and knows my inner I don't know what. Hubby's uncle told me about Buddhism and his endearing and ridiculous love of his dog over dinner. He asked me out of the blue if I ever thought I'd turn out this way, worried and serious I think he meant, and I told him no, not in a million years! I would have been much more prepared to have less money or lack of recognition or marriage problems, etc but I was not prepared for special needs or to worry as much about my kids as I do. I wiped away tears as hubby sat quietly by.
Maybe I do need professional help. Am i depressed? Or maybe I'm just tired. I don't know. But I have definitely come to the end of this year with a heavier than usual heart and feelings of being overwhelmed. Totally. What I would do to be on a beach and all by my lonesome. Is something wrong with that? Hubby has booked me a massage this morning, on our last day in Ottawa. Then we head up to spend 5 nights under the same roof as 17 people.... The good news is Jake is so much better and even seems himself this morning. Hubby just went down to get some coffees from nearby Timothys. Kids playing a game on the ipad and giggling. What is there to not be happy and appreciative about, all things considered? I need to get myself together .
Maybe I do need professional help. Am i depressed? Or maybe I'm just tired. I don't know. But I have definitely come to the end of this year with a heavier than usual heart and feelings of being overwhelmed. Totally. What I would do to be on a beach and all by my lonesome. Is something wrong with that? Hubby has booked me a massage this morning, on our last day in Ottawa. Then we head up to spend 5 nights under the same roof as 17 people.... The good news is Jake is so much better and even seems himself this morning. Hubby just went down to get some coffees from nearby Timothys. Kids playing a game on the ipad and giggling. What is there to not be happy and appreciative about, all things considered? I need to get myself together .
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Rise of the guardian
I stroked Jake's feverish head. I'm going to the bathroom next door to take a bath and I will be back to check on you, okay?
If you die next door, I will die too, he told me.
I was quiet and just continued to stroke his head. Hubby, who had appeared at the foot of his bed, was not happy at all about this grave and unexpected comment. He asked excitedly in German to me, clearly on the verge of freaking out. Why is he muttering such nonsense? Maybe this is worse than we realize, do we need to take him to the doctor?
Relax, I instructed him impatiently, also in German, don't get excited in front of him. He's not feeling well, he has a fever, but its also just 100. Nothing to get overly worried about.
As per European custom, I had given Jake nothing but cold compresses and fluids and any bland solids he could keep down. I had read a study before that indicated that while giving ibuprofen would give short term relief for fever, it would ultimately prolong his recovery time. Hubby's siblings and their kids were now all arriving in the Laurentians without us, and these couple days of hubby's precious vacation time was being spent sequestered. I want Jake to feel better fast, at least keep things down.
A lot of the first night was spent on the bathroom floor as Jake heaved into the toilet. I got him into a bubble bath at 3am to clean himself up and relax. Then he felt like everything looked weird around him. Mom, the door is so huge, he told me. You know, you have a fever and you are exhausted, so your brain is not processing information properly. Mom, he said later, now everything is huge. Do I look huge? I asked. No, he said. Then look at me, and I'll be here making sure everything stays normal looking, okay? Okay, he said, pulling the covers tighter around him, thanks mom.
As I took my bath, I realized that all Jake meant was that he loves me. If something happened to me, would he really die? No. But there is nothing I wouldn't do to try to help him and he understands that. And that is the unique and irreplaceable bond between mother and child.
If you die next door, I will die too, he told me.
I was quiet and just continued to stroke his head. Hubby, who had appeared at the foot of his bed, was not happy at all about this grave and unexpected comment. He asked excitedly in German to me, clearly on the verge of freaking out. Why is he muttering such nonsense? Maybe this is worse than we realize, do we need to take him to the doctor?
Relax, I instructed him impatiently, also in German, don't get excited in front of him. He's not feeling well, he has a fever, but its also just 100. Nothing to get overly worried about.
As per European custom, I had given Jake nothing but cold compresses and fluids and any bland solids he could keep down. I had read a study before that indicated that while giving ibuprofen would give short term relief for fever, it would ultimately prolong his recovery time. Hubby's siblings and their kids were now all arriving in the Laurentians without us, and these couple days of hubby's precious vacation time was being spent sequestered. I want Jake to feel better fast, at least keep things down.
A lot of the first night was spent on the bathroom floor as Jake heaved into the toilet. I got him into a bubble bath at 3am to clean himself up and relax. Then he felt like everything looked weird around him. Mom, the door is so huge, he told me. You know, you have a fever and you are exhausted, so your brain is not processing information properly. Mom, he said later, now everything is huge. Do I look huge? I asked. No, he said. Then look at me, and I'll be here making sure everything stays normal looking, okay? Okay, he said, pulling the covers tighter around him, thanks mom.
As I took my bath, I realized that all Jake meant was that he loves me. If something happened to me, would he really die? No. But there is nothing I wouldn't do to try to help him and he understands that. And that is the unique and irreplaceable bond between mother and child.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Flu
We have not made it to the Laurentians to be with family. After celebrating FILs 70th with friends and at a Montreal restaurant, Jake became incredibly ill with fever and vomiting. i had hoped it was just food poisoning but no luck. For now we are sequestered nicely in parents' house as everyone has moved on to St. Donat.
At Jake's expense, it is probably a blessing in disguise. Fewer nights under one roof with an entire and very loud army. Quality vs. quantity. But maybe its better for me. Fewer nights with everyone else's special needs-less families... I am honestly not usually this way. I dont wish my children's challenges on anyone! But this year, for some reason, is harder. Maybe its because of nearby Sandy Hook. Maybe it's fiscal cliff. Maybe it's because school is not a slam dunk for either of my boys for very different reasons. As much as i love my boys, I just feel more burdened than usual. How does my FIL know? He told me at lunch. I wNt you to vanish, leave your kids and have a good time this break. I tried to roll my eyes and be poker face. All the while thinking, do I really look so bad?
At Jake's expense, it is probably a blessing in disguise. Fewer nights under one roof with an entire and very loud army. Quality vs. quantity. But maybe its better for me. Fewer nights with everyone else's special needs-less families... I am honestly not usually this way. I dont wish my children's challenges on anyone! But this year, for some reason, is harder. Maybe its because of nearby Sandy Hook. Maybe it's fiscal cliff. Maybe it's because school is not a slam dunk for either of my boys for very different reasons. As much as i love my boys, I just feel more burdened than usual. How does my FIL know? He told me at lunch. I wNt you to vanish, leave your kids and have a good time this break. I tried to roll my eyes and be poker face. All the while thinking, do I really look so bad?
Thursday, December 20, 2012
after thought
Hubby and I discussed tonight. He didn't think the Starbucks cards were enough for several teachers we met today. Off I went to CVS for Visa cards after we agreed on the numbers.
$50 Belac's classroom teacher
$50 Belac's resource teacher
$50 School psychologist
$75 Belac's aide
So there you go. It's kind of insane considering how frugal we are in other respects. We are just grateful.
$50 Belac's classroom teacher
$50 Belac's resource teacher
$50 School psychologist
$75 Belac's aide
So there you go. It's kind of insane considering how frugal we are in other respects. We are just grateful.
special needs
Everyone showed up for Mommy & Me, today. Last class before Christmas. I have taught many of these kids' older siblings. I have a strong relationship with many of these moms. I think there were 18 kids, today. A lot of them from privileged backgrounds. A lot of them show up with kids dressed in designer clothes. And there is one mom, Kim, who I've chatted with now and again, who looks increasingly haggard from week to week and more and more isolated. She wasn't always this way, back when I taught just her older son.
Why do I come every week? she asks me. He's 3-1/2 and can't talk, and I see these 1 year olds doing circles around him. It's just so hard.
And I just listen. What can I say? I know all about this. This is not like a hyperactive kid who can't sit still. Or a kid who is so shy, she won't participate or separate from her mom. Or a kid who can't stop touching everything and everyone. All - what I consider - normal things. This is something more. Her child has some hearing loss and wears aids, but oddly enough, can also get distracted by hearing a pin drop. He is communicative with his eyes and pulls his mom near snack, but doesn't participate in class except to stand under the parachute. He cannot easily follow instructions or at all. He doesn't know his numbers or colors, just can't remember them. He doesn't have relationships with the other kids. He clings to his mom and wears a diaper, yet runs around like any other boy. They've seen specialists and there is still no diagnosis.
Then Simion - the older brother - was not in school for 3 days, she tells me, so I'm trying to get him caught up on homework. This morning, the little one spills milk all over the place, I'm yelling at him and then yelling at Simion... It's not fair to Simion. I'm so stressed out about the little one who needs so much of my attention, that Simion gets the brunt of it, too....
It's hard, I agree. And I just listen. This was me 5 years ago, this was me, losing my mind.
I didn't mention that just this morning, I was in a meeting at school. They want to try putting Belac in a modified class for part of the day. A 30 minute meeting lasted almost 2 hours as hubby, teachers and I discussed details. It's so hard, so hard! But still nothing compared to those confusing early years where Kim is.
It's so hard, I tell her, as I eye all the Greenwich moms at another table, all made up and laughing heartily about who knows what. If I had to tell you one thing...? She nodded and I continued. Stay engaged with your community and friends, which might even change in the next years, who knows? People might not always understand or know what to do. There might be times a parent unknowingly hurts your feelings and you find yourself in painful place because it's so hard not to compare when there are a whole bunch of kids together.... but going out and trying and engaging in whatever ways you can is good for you and your family. Don't let yourself become isolated or hide at home, whatever you do, because there are a lot of people here for you. For example, you can always call me....
I know she won't, I never called anyone back then. But come to think about it, I didn't know one seasoned parent of a special needs kid who could support me from some knowing place. And it just reminds me again. What the hell am I doing? Anyone can teach mommy and me. I should be offering special needs classes, again. I should be working on my project to help this community. That - if anything - is my true value add.
Why do I come every week? she asks me. He's 3-1/2 and can't talk, and I see these 1 year olds doing circles around him. It's just so hard.
And I just listen. What can I say? I know all about this. This is not like a hyperactive kid who can't sit still. Or a kid who is so shy, she won't participate or separate from her mom. Or a kid who can't stop touching everything and everyone. All - what I consider - normal things. This is something more. Her child has some hearing loss and wears aids, but oddly enough, can also get distracted by hearing a pin drop. He is communicative with his eyes and pulls his mom near snack, but doesn't participate in class except to stand under the parachute. He cannot easily follow instructions or at all. He doesn't know his numbers or colors, just can't remember them. He doesn't have relationships with the other kids. He clings to his mom and wears a diaper, yet runs around like any other boy. They've seen specialists and there is still no diagnosis.
Then Simion - the older brother - was not in school for 3 days, she tells me, so I'm trying to get him caught up on homework. This morning, the little one spills milk all over the place, I'm yelling at him and then yelling at Simion... It's not fair to Simion. I'm so stressed out about the little one who needs so much of my attention, that Simion gets the brunt of it, too....
It's hard, I agree. And I just listen. This was me 5 years ago, this was me, losing my mind.
I didn't mention that just this morning, I was in a meeting at school. They want to try putting Belac in a modified class for part of the day. A 30 minute meeting lasted almost 2 hours as hubby, teachers and I discussed details. It's so hard, so hard! But still nothing compared to those confusing early years where Kim is.
It's so hard, I tell her, as I eye all the Greenwich moms at another table, all made up and laughing heartily about who knows what. If I had to tell you one thing...? She nodded and I continued. Stay engaged with your community and friends, which might even change in the next years, who knows? People might not always understand or know what to do. There might be times a parent unknowingly hurts your feelings and you find yourself in painful place because it's so hard not to compare when there are a whole bunch of kids together.... but going out and trying and engaging in whatever ways you can is good for you and your family. Don't let yourself become isolated or hide at home, whatever you do, because there are a lot of people here for you. For example, you can always call me....
I know she won't, I never called anyone back then. But come to think about it, I didn't know one seasoned parent of a special needs kid who could support me from some knowing place. And it just reminds me again. What the hell am I doing? Anyone can teach mommy and me. I should be offering special needs classes, again. I should be working on my project to help this community. That - if anything - is my true value add.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
wrong
Email at 230:
Hi Gimky,
I would like to chat with you before the CSE meeting tomorrow morning. Can I call you this afternoon? What is a convenient time? If not after school, I can call you before school ends.
Please let me know a time and number to call you.
My reply:
Anytime after 315 on my cell. I hope everything is okay.
Email:
Great! I will call you on your cell at 315. Nothing is wrong:)
Well, we talked from 315 to 430. Nothing is wrong? When was the last time you spoke in depth with anyone on the phone for 90 minutes when nothing is wrong? I then studied for a Social Studies test with Belac, while overseeing study for a French and Science test with Jake. Now making dinner after pouring myself a glass of wine, using my phone to type as I wait for rice to cook.
Nothing is wrong...?
gifts
Picked up 21 - $10 Starbucks cards, this morning, for the kids' teachers and school monitors. I still need to purchase $25 (Belac's teacher) and $50 (Belac's aide) Visa cards. Then stopped at a store, where I picked up 13 reusable hot/cold cups. Each has a different colorful and funky design and top for each of the grandkids we will be under one roof with during the holidays. I figure this will be helpful to keep dishwashing more manageable....
Then I remembered it was my dad's birthday. I hadn't don't anything for him and honestly, never ever did much on his birthday but call. He's 76 years old, today. In the parking lot of a store, I called home.
What's happening for dad's birthday? Are you going out to eat? I asked my mom.
No, she replied, dad has to work tomorrow.
Doesn't make sense, I thought, why isn't she doing anything for him? Does it all come down to my own (albeit small) income, that makes me feel I can splurge when necessary? Well, I told her, I'm calling because I'm making dinner reservations for both of you, what's the best time?
No, Gimky, she insisted, no.
Sorry mom, I laughed to soften my tone, it's not for you to tell me I can't give dad his birthday gift! You guys are going out to dinner tonight!
She put my dad on the phone. Happy Birthday, dad! I'm making you and mom reservations at Steve and Rocky's for dinner. Is 6, ok? (It was the nicest place I could think of, and where my parents and hubby's parents went to dinner over 12 years ago.)
Yes, that's good.
Order whatever you want, okay? It's all taken care of. (I'd have to call the restaurant immediately. Hopefully they could just take my credit card.)
Is there a limit?
No, order whatever you want. Have some wine with dinner, dessert, coffee, whatever looks good.... If I were there we'd be taking you out, so sending you and mom out for your birthday is the next best thing.
I understand, he told me, obviously happy and touched, so I'll make sure to spend a fortune!
Yes, I laughed, do that! I could also hear my mom laughing in the background.
Thank you, Gimky, he told me before hanging up, and be sure to thank hubby.
It's nice to be fussed over, sometimes, and it also feels great to give.
Then I remembered it was my dad's birthday. I hadn't don't anything for him and honestly, never ever did much on his birthday but call. He's 76 years old, today. In the parking lot of a store, I called home.
What's happening for dad's birthday? Are you going out to eat? I asked my mom.
No, she replied, dad has to work tomorrow.
Doesn't make sense, I thought, why isn't she doing anything for him? Does it all come down to my own (albeit small) income, that makes me feel I can splurge when necessary? Well, I told her, I'm calling because I'm making dinner reservations for both of you, what's the best time?
No, Gimky, she insisted, no.
Sorry mom, I laughed to soften my tone, it's not for you to tell me I can't give dad his birthday gift! You guys are going out to dinner tonight!
She put my dad on the phone. Happy Birthday, dad! I'm making you and mom reservations at Steve and Rocky's for dinner. Is 6, ok? (It was the nicest place I could think of, and where my parents and hubby's parents went to dinner over 12 years ago.)
Yes, that's good.
Order whatever you want, okay? It's all taken care of. (I'd have to call the restaurant immediately. Hopefully they could just take my credit card.)
Is there a limit?
No, order whatever you want. Have some wine with dinner, dessert, coffee, whatever looks good.... If I were there we'd be taking you out, so sending you and mom out for your birthday is the next best thing.
I understand, he told me, obviously happy and touched, so I'll make sure to spend a fortune!
Yes, I laughed, do that! I could also hear my mom laughing in the background.
Thank you, Gimky, he told me before hanging up, and be sure to thank hubby.
It's nice to be fussed over, sometimes, and it also feels great to give.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Holiday concert
Sat in the first 3 rows surrounded by friends. There was Dot, Lulu, Kati and their families....
Our :) :) :) friend sat right behind, who I had just spoken to by phone hours earlier. Gimky, looks like you made something happen, did you read this? He showed me his phone. It was a district wide email now stating that the backdoors of the school would always be locked. Point of entry from front doors only. I smiled. Okay, maybe it pays to not be so cynical and just always try.
Hubby and I talked easily with :) :) :). You know what happened? On a lighter note that made us laugh our heads off.... All of those texts from a gmail address were from our friend's 9 year old son. And scrolling through the dozens of texts, together, we had to both laugh and he (the dad) turn ashen for how it all appeared. You guys must have thought I was such a pervert, he told us, sending your wife emoticons early in the morning and late at night! No wonder you guys just dropped out of our lives these past weeks.... I could only roll my eyes and laugh. Why didn't you call me? he asked me, almost accusingly. And say what? I asked, I thought if I didn't respond you'd get the message and go away. Go away...? his mouth dropped, realizing just what a serious misunderstanding this was.
Belac made us so proud, last night. He stood up there with his buddies singing and sometimes just mouthing the words or even barely singing at times, but I didn't care. He was fitting in well enough up there alongside 100 kids. And I just loved that the families we are close with all happened to sit together. We hugged and kissed each other as we arrived. Jake sat between hubby and Lulu's older boy, a cool dude he looks up to.... I realized, that those challenges that initially isolated us from everyone else, it seemed, were also those same challenges that provoked us to make building friendships and honest relationships a number one priority. We're lucky to have come this far and to be where we are. So far so good, at least.
Happy Holidays!
Monday, December 17, 2012
getting your back
Wrote emails to the superintendent and the principals of both the Elementary and Middle schools. I noted that the front doors were heavily guarded, today, but that the unlocked back doors of both places did not even seem monitored. Hello?
Look. I know that after the cops go, someone shows up with a gun, what can anyone really do to stop bullets from being fired? I also know that the risk of something like this happening at our school is still very remote. I know that police presence in the short term is really to reassure the shaken community. But to have all this attention and security at the front door while leaving the back door open and unlocked for unmonitored staff access at both schools?
In light of recent events, it's called irresponsible and stupid, I didn't say.
I have since heard back from both principals who have told me that the back doors will now be unlocked for only very specific and shortened windows of time, during which they will carefully monitored. The district is now looking to have a card swipe system installed for those doors.
Okay. Good. And I'm glad I have it in writing.
Look. I know that after the cops go, someone shows up with a gun, what can anyone really do to stop bullets from being fired? I also know that the risk of something like this happening at our school is still very remote. I know that police presence in the short term is really to reassure the shaken community. But to have all this attention and security at the front door while leaving the back door open and unlocked for unmonitored staff access at both schools?
In light of recent events, it's called irresponsible and stupid, I didn't say.
I have since heard back from both principals who have told me that the back doors will now be unlocked for only very specific and shortened windows of time, during which they will carefully monitored. The district is now looking to have a card swipe system installed for those doors.
Okay. Good. And I'm glad I have it in writing.
late
Our alarm didn't go off this morning. Hubby checked his watch before moving in fast-motion. It's 7:40.
What?
Belac had to be in school by 7:45, today. At 8 am his class would be walking from the elementary school to the high school auditorium for a dress rehearsal of their chorus concert. There was a mad scramble at our house. Belac was amazingly fast and cooperative. As I made lunches I called the school. We're going to be late, should I bring him straight to the high school? I was put on hold for awhile as they discussed on the other end, no doubt this was now a 'security' issue.
Belac and I ran hand-in-hand straight from home to the elementary school without stopping. I felt like we were on a mission together. We cut through our neighbor's property. Let her yell at us, I thought. We arrived at the stairs, only to be greeted by cops. Is this the new normal? One gave Belac a high-five. I said a hello to our school superintendent. "Bye Mom!" Belac called to me as he waited for me to say "Bye Belac!" before running to his classroom.
I jogged home and hopped into the car with Jake. As we backed out, I immediately turned off NPRs parsing of Obama's Sandy Hook speech. Mom? he asked after a couple seconds of silence. Am I going to be able to be outside by myself?
And then I took a slow and quiet breath. I realized just how confusing this must be for Jake. We had certainly talked about this a little over the week end but now he was off to school for the first time since the shooting at his cousin's school.
Yes, I told him, I'm driving you because we're running late today. But today, you'll walk home by yourself as usual, and tomorrow you'll walk to school as usual, too.
I just hope this isn't going to result in over-parenting, he explained.
I smiled. This kid never ceases to amaze me and make me laugh. Do you think I over-parent? I asked casually.
No, you're okay, he told me.
He got his stuff together and heaved his bag onto his back as we arrived the backdoor of the middle school. But before running off, I noticed that he deliberately caught my eye as he said "Good Bye, Mom." This sweet, sweet kid to the core.
As I drove home, it wasn't lost on me that the back door Jake enters, everyday, is unsupervised. And there were no cops, there, today.
What kind of world are we leaving our kids?
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Aftermath
We have had kids and kids and their parents here all week end. Huddled together around the fire with food and drink. And that's just what you do when you are scared and horrified by the senseless, destructive acts outside.
My cousin was one of the parents who sped to Sandy Hook elementary on Friday. I bet seeing his son was one of the happiest days of his life. But they are devastated. The principal was someone they considered a friend. They lost friends and kids in their neighborhood, and unbeknownst to them, the killer and his mom lived just a block away.
It is important to me that neither of my children ever be socially isolated. It's important that they feel loved and understood. It is so important that we talk about what we do during times of pain, anger and depression.... And never ever ever will there ever be a gun in this house so long as I am alive. Never.
My cousin was one of the parents who sped to Sandy Hook elementary on Friday. I bet seeing his son was one of the happiest days of his life. But they are devastated. The principal was someone they considered a friend. They lost friends and kids in their neighborhood, and unbeknownst to them, the killer and his mom lived just a block away.
It is important to me that neither of my children ever be socially isolated. It's important that they feel loved and understood. It is so important that we talk about what we do during times of pain, anger and depression.... And never ever ever will there ever be a gun in this house so long as I am alive. Never.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
:) :) :)
:) :) :)
Him again!
I later showed hubby and now he was upset. I have gotten easily a dozen texts like this from him, to which I have mostly not responded. He greeted me on the phone with "Good Morning, Sunshine" awhile back and I pretended not to notice. And once when we were over at their house for dinner he said to hubby, "Gimky is sexy" to which his wife immediately interjected, "you don't tell your buddy that his wife is sexy!"
Don't worry, I tell hubby, never in a million gazillion years could I be smitten by this guy, but his attention is irritating....
Hubby began typing from his phone. Don't say anything you will regret, don't shame him, I told him. Hubby wrote:
:) :) :) Hey, are we all still on for dinner next week? Looking forward to it.
That was the perfect message. Hubby's good. But it won't surprise me if he cancels dinner next week, but that's the way it goes.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Wacky wednesday
Belac invited to Lily's house for a play date by text and I sent him over within minutes. Jake had a productive session with reading tutor. Hwk done. Kids bathed after dinner of chicken veggie stir fry with rice. Jake made a fire in the fireplace, big enough to last for '3 hours' and when dad gets home. Boys playing a double player game on iPad. Now just waiting on hubby, who I heard had a surprisingly good day. If he gets home early enough, we'll light the menorah and the kids will get a book filled with puzzles and games. A good day.
yesterday
Well, I'm better today with some sleep.
Yesterday, our grumpy neighbor next door yelled at Jake for crossing her property to reach ours, and then forced him to walk around. "Get off! Never let me see you on my property again!" He was weepy by the time I saw him. I noticed he had called my cell twice by the time I got home from picking up Belac. I see this woman everyday and we are perfectly friendly and I have been so helpful to her. It shows bad character, frankly. Harder to tell an adult, I'd rather if you not cut through my property (even though she once invited us to do so as a shortcut) and easier to simply yell at a kid. She could have walked him home to talk to me. She could have asked where he lives and who he was and called me or even just talked to him. But no, she was mean-spirited. But she's also old, I explained to Jake, and sometimes old people act angry because they feel weak or worried or afraid.
Yesterday evening, he was in a band concert and then proceeded to get a bloody nose. 150 kids then walked onstage to sing without him. Was everything okay? I went running downstairs from the balcony to backstage, just in time to see him walk out unconfidently, cut into where he was supposed to be, a few rows back and in the middle, as the conductor had her arms up to begin. I knew he was dying inside and was doing everything to hold it together. His eyes were red, there was still blood near his nose, and his face was like stone. I tried to catch his eye and smile at him but he didn't know I was there. And then I saw him rolling his eyes exaggeratedly during a cheesy song. Ugh. Unfortunately we had to talk about that, too, and he went to bed crying....
Yesterday, Belac came home with a 100% on a math test. It was not easy and my mouth dropped open. I have always said and have said to Kati many a time. I would easily take average test scores if he were more flexible and had a better attitude. A more "typical" kid. In fact I don't care about the grades, is what I have said, as long as the kids work hard and learn to be resilient and generous. But then there's Jake who is doing pretty well in school and who works very hard but is not on the Honor roll. He is generous and flexible and a good, good kid, and yet I get myself in kinks about him, too. I want Jake to have more conviction, to have stronger opinions and a bigger voice. And so am I really telling the truth...? Will it ever be enough? Actually, I realize, I want each kid to be more like the other...
I remember what I asked Dot, the other day. How did my mom do what she did and end up with the 3 daughters she had? How? I pack my kids' lunch every single day. I throw birthday parties at home for them. I encourage their friendships. I help them with homework and hire tutors. I read everything about childhood development and family dynamics. I try not to yell too much and strike the balance between being tough and understanding. I make sure I behave and appear presentable wherever we go to smooth over whatever might happen with Belac in public. I make nice with their teachers. I make nice with the parents. I take them out in nature whenever I can. I kiss them good night every single night and we have exchanges between us every single day. And yet why does everything seem so much harder for my boys than it ever was for my sisters and me? Or have I simply forgotten what it was like to grow up?
Yesterday, our grumpy neighbor next door yelled at Jake for crossing her property to reach ours, and then forced him to walk around. "Get off! Never let me see you on my property again!" He was weepy by the time I saw him. I noticed he had called my cell twice by the time I got home from picking up Belac. I see this woman everyday and we are perfectly friendly and I have been so helpful to her. It shows bad character, frankly. Harder to tell an adult, I'd rather if you not cut through my property (even though she once invited us to do so as a shortcut) and easier to simply yell at a kid. She could have walked him home to talk to me. She could have asked where he lives and who he was and called me or even just talked to him. But no, she was mean-spirited. But she's also old, I explained to Jake, and sometimes old people act angry because they feel weak or worried or afraid.
Yesterday evening, he was in a band concert and then proceeded to get a bloody nose. 150 kids then walked onstage to sing without him. Was everything okay? I went running downstairs from the balcony to backstage, just in time to see him walk out unconfidently, cut into where he was supposed to be, a few rows back and in the middle, as the conductor had her arms up to begin. I knew he was dying inside and was doing everything to hold it together. His eyes were red, there was still blood near his nose, and his face was like stone. I tried to catch his eye and smile at him but he didn't know I was there. And then I saw him rolling his eyes exaggeratedly during a cheesy song. Ugh. Unfortunately we had to talk about that, too, and he went to bed crying....
Yesterday, Belac came home with a 100% on a math test. It was not easy and my mouth dropped open. I have always said and have said to Kati many a time. I would easily take average test scores if he were more flexible and had a better attitude. A more "typical" kid. In fact I don't care about the grades, is what I have said, as long as the kids work hard and learn to be resilient and generous. But then there's Jake who is doing pretty well in school and who works very hard but is not on the Honor roll. He is generous and flexible and a good, good kid, and yet I get myself in kinks about him, too. I want Jake to have more conviction, to have stronger opinions and a bigger voice. And so am I really telling the truth...? Will it ever be enough? Actually, I realize, I want each kid to be more like the other...
I remember what I asked Dot, the other day. How did my mom do what she did and end up with the 3 daughters she had? How? I pack my kids' lunch every single day. I throw birthday parties at home for them. I encourage their friendships. I help them with homework and hire tutors. I read everything about childhood development and family dynamics. I try not to yell too much and strike the balance between being tough and understanding. I make sure I behave and appear presentable wherever we go to smooth over whatever might happen with Belac in public. I make nice with their teachers. I make nice with the parents. I take them out in nature whenever I can. I kiss them good night every single night and we have exchanges between us every single day. And yet why does everything seem so much harder for my boys than it ever was for my sisters and me? Or have I simply forgotten what it was like to grow up?
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Running on empty
It's just how I feel. Hubby is working and I hear him swearing at the computer screen in the other room. His workload has been terrible. No break on the wknds, recent mornings up at 430 and going straight out, coming home way past dinner and then working more. He is spent and i feel bad for him. Then there is endless kids stuff, house stuff, work stuff, cleaning, mice and packing up the kitchen in plastic bins until I can fix this problem.... I feel like everything and everyone needs my attention to keep things afloat, or at least from drowning. Do I overstate my importance? I certainly hope so.
The other day, an assistant teacher in my nursery school lectured the kids for being wild. Do you think Santa can see who is being naughty or nice? she retorted. Did she really just say that...? 5 years I've been at this beautiful school. She could have brought up God or Jesus but instead brings up fucking Santa Claus as our moral standard-bearer?
My friend was just 43 years old, you know. It's not right.
What I would do to be someplace warm and laying on a beach and doing absolutely nothing.
The other day, an assistant teacher in my nursery school lectured the kids for being wild. Do you think Santa can see who is being naughty or nice? she retorted. Did she really just say that...? 5 years I've been at this beautiful school. She could have brought up God or Jesus but instead brings up fucking Santa Claus as our moral standard-bearer?
My friend was just 43 years old, you know. It's not right.
What I would do to be someplace warm and laying on a beach and doing absolutely nothing.
Monday, December 10, 2012
SYL
I found a bunch of pictures of me and my friend, yesterday. They were posted on an old website of his from 1999. And there we were, arm in arm and at my old apartment. For better and worse, things really do live on the internet forever and ever.
Driving home, this dreary morning, I was caught behind a funeral procession. How ironic. I was in no rush and simply followed the line of cars. I read - as per Buddhist tradition - he's being cremated. I could find no information about cause of death, but I think he probably had a whole host of medical problems with a dash of heartbreak and despair in the mix. I mean, he was a bright and shining star while in the US, singing everywhere. He was so emotional and open, and once so positive. I don't think he ultimately wanted to be back in more oppressive Singapore....
This morning, I slipped my neighbor's contractor 50 bucks and asked if I could throw my old toilet, vanity and debris in his dumpster. Score! Returning home, I found my TOTO toilet delivered to my front step. Then typed up a proposal for a buddy program I'm asking to create at the synagogue, pairing up special needs kids with age-matched peers. And then dealt with my account being hacked and figuring out where the mice are coming in from.... And life goes on, basically.
The thing is, I just always thought I'd see him again. That I'd hear him sing and that we'd catch up one day. I know he felt deeply that he let my parents down and was remorseful about the money. And for years I was furious that he never called just to say sorry or thank you to my parents or respond to any of my efforts to reach him. But deep down, I know he just couldn't and was ashamed. I understood. And the more time that passed, the harder it was. But now he's dead and we never had that moment.
I wish I had flown over there years ago in search of him, slapped him in the face and had it out with him. We would have put this behind us easily in person and my parents would have - at that point - been fine with a thank you and a token contribution. But it didn't happen that way. It didn't happen that way at all. How dare he not say good bye to me. How dare he leave me waiting like this. How dare he!
Driving home, this dreary morning, I was caught behind a funeral procession. How ironic. I was in no rush and simply followed the line of cars. I read - as per Buddhist tradition - he's being cremated. I could find no information about cause of death, but I think he probably had a whole host of medical problems with a dash of heartbreak and despair in the mix. I mean, he was a bright and shining star while in the US, singing everywhere. He was so emotional and open, and once so positive. I don't think he ultimately wanted to be back in more oppressive Singapore....
This morning, I slipped my neighbor's contractor 50 bucks and asked if I could throw my old toilet, vanity and debris in his dumpster. Score! Returning home, I found my TOTO toilet delivered to my front step. Then typed up a proposal for a buddy program I'm asking to create at the synagogue, pairing up special needs kids with age-matched peers. And then dealt with my account being hacked and figuring out where the mice are coming in from.... And life goes on, basically.
The thing is, I just always thought I'd see him again. That I'd hear him sing and that we'd catch up one day. I know he felt deeply that he let my parents down and was remorseful about the money. And for years I was furious that he never called just to say sorry or thank you to my parents or respond to any of my efforts to reach him. But deep down, I know he just couldn't and was ashamed. I understood. And the more time that passed, the harder it was. But now he's dead and we never had that moment.
I wish I had flown over there years ago in search of him, slapped him in the face and had it out with him. We would have put this behind us easily in person and my parents would have - at that point - been fine with a thank you and a token contribution. But it didn't happen that way. It didn't happen that way at all. How dare he not say good bye to me. How dare he leave me waiting like this. How dare he!
Saturday, December 8, 2012
rip
Dear Gim, I hope you are well. I wanted to let you know the sad news that SL has passed away. I know no more than that he died in Singapore yesterday. Found out on Facebook. Were you in touch with him? I had not seen him for years and years. He was such an unforgettable person. I will be in NY from Christmas through mid March. Let's try to see eachother! Happy Holidays, Love L
Oh my dear God. OH MY GOD....
L, did he kill himself? Or did he die of a heart problem?
He was a dear dear dear friend. And dropped out of my life when he left Juilliard after a heart attack and went home to Singapore. My parents were then forced to pay an $18,000 federal government student loan they guaranteed that he failed to pay back. It was devastating for all of us. Utterly devastating. 10 years ago, a mutual teacher I didn't know well called to ask me how I was doing and to ask me what I was doing in my life. I was weirded out at the time and it was only after I hung up after this strange phone call, that I realized that SL was probably on the line listening in. He was once my closest friend on the planet. He checked out my hubby before we ever began dating. Though gay, and flamingly so, he admitted to thinking he could be straight to marry me, which resulted in the biggest fight of our friendship. Remembering his moment of temporary insanity makes me want to both cry and laugh.
I am devastated to hear this news. And now I see him all over YouTube and see that that people are already wishing him RIP.
SYL. Divo. I always loved you. I miss you all the more knowing that our paths will really never cross again.
Oh my dear God. OH MY GOD....
L, did he kill himself? Or did he die of a heart problem?
He was a dear dear dear friend. And dropped out of my life when he left Juilliard after a heart attack and went home to Singapore. My parents were then forced to pay an $18,000 federal government student loan they guaranteed that he failed to pay back. It was devastating for all of us. Utterly devastating. 10 years ago, a mutual teacher I didn't know well called to ask me how I was doing and to ask me what I was doing in my life. I was weirded out at the time and it was only after I hung up after this strange phone call, that I realized that SL was probably on the line listening in. He was once my closest friend on the planet. He checked out my hubby before we ever began dating. Though gay, and flamingly so, he admitted to thinking he could be straight to marry me, which resulted in the biggest fight of our friendship. Remembering his moment of temporary insanity makes me want to both cry and laugh.
I am devastated to hear this news. And now I see him all over YouTube and see that that people are already wishing him RIP.
SYL. Divo. I always loved you. I miss you all the more knowing that our paths will really never cross again.
before - after
Thursday
Saturday
Played in the band at the synagogue's Hanukah party. Hubby and I played a slow and melancholic rendition of Maoz Tzur at the end, him on piano, me on violin, and in the last refrain I happened to see a woman in front crying. At the dinner, she came to me and said a thank you. I was so overcome with emotion, she told me, and found myself remembering and missing my parents...
I thanked her but found myself staring at her. I know you, I told her, how do I know you? What's your name?
Shiela.
And your last name is Bear!
Yes, yes it is! she laughed.
I know you! But I don't know how....
As the dinner progressed, it dawned on me. I knew her because of Occupational Therapy. Both our boys had occupational therapy over 6 years ago, and we were always in the waiting room at the same time.
After dinner, we chatted. Right away, she proclaimed her son "fine" now. Aren't you still in Heartsville? Weren't you starting something?
We're here now, right around the corner. And I guess I was starting something, if you want to call it that. I sort of had to reinvent myself, my son needs me.
We promised to be in touch.
I went home and I was curious. I looked her up and found her photo on a website. I was absolutely flabbergasted. She had studied at the prestigious Curtis Institute after degrees in piano and philosophy at an elite school. She had once been music director of a prestigious ensemble. She conducted all over Europe and for opera. She was an assistant conductor of a major US orchestra for 4 years. But you know what? She, too, had reinvented herself for some reason. I read that she just graduated NYU with a degree in music therapy. And guess what? She was working with special needs kids at a local place.
She emailed tonight. I'm free on Fridays.
How about this Friday? You're welcome to come over for coffee.
Sounds good, she replied.
How did she let go of her previous life? I so want to know.
I thanked her but found myself staring at her. I know you, I told her, how do I know you? What's your name?
Shiela.
And your last name is Bear!
Yes, yes it is! she laughed.
I know you! But I don't know how....
As the dinner progressed, it dawned on me. I knew her because of Occupational Therapy. Both our boys had occupational therapy over 6 years ago, and we were always in the waiting room at the same time.
After dinner, we chatted. Right away, she proclaimed her son "fine" now. Aren't you still in Heartsville? Weren't you starting something?
We're here now, right around the corner. And I guess I was starting something, if you want to call it that. I sort of had to reinvent myself, my son needs me.
We promised to be in touch.
I went home and I was curious. I looked her up and found her photo on a website. I was absolutely flabbergasted. She had studied at the prestigious Curtis Institute after degrees in piano and philosophy at an elite school. She had once been music director of a prestigious ensemble. She conducted all over Europe and for opera. She was an assistant conductor of a major US orchestra for 4 years. But you know what? She, too, had reinvented herself for some reason. I read that she just graduated NYU with a degree in music therapy. And guess what? She was working with special needs kids at a local place.
She emailed tonight. I'm free on Fridays.
How about this Friday? You're welcome to come over for coffee.
Sounds good, she replied.
How did she let go of her previous life? I so want to know.
Friday, December 7, 2012
breakfast with dot
Oh my God, are you crying on me? You are so not crying! She got up and came to my side. Move over, she instructed as she huddled up close to me and whispered in my ear as my tears fell and I stared out the window.
It wasn't supposed to be this hard to have kids, you know? It wasn't supposed to be this hard, was all I could say.
This is someone who understands. She has an Ivy League degree and grew up wealthy in NYC. She had once been a model and her mom had been a runway model. She was a self-declared snob. She never in a million years thought she'd have a daughter who is mentally retarded and on the spectrum, and who you can tell by looking, that something is not right. Then her husband left her and her family and they suffered financially. She had to reinvent herself and for the first time in 4 hard years, her business turned a significant profit. She is a fighter. From her, from Dot, I'd listen to what ever she had to say.
Maybe you should be seeing someone. Not Belac, not Jake, but YOU. Have you ever thought of that?
I rolled my eyes and said nothing. For god's sake, isn't anyone allowed to cry?
Are things okay with hubby?
I nodded and blew my nose.
Really? Like you're having sex and everything?
I laughed and wiped my tears. Yes. And too much, if you ask me.
Okay, good! Just checking....
I don't even know what she then said to me or what I said to her. We both had to rush off. As I checked my face in my rearview mirror, I was impressed. My mascara didn't even run. That's good stuff.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
mold and mildew
Began pulling up tiles only to find that there is mold and mildew and a wet under floor. Even after the water was shut down for weeks. And that's the thing about trying to fix things, right? You have to be prepared to open up a can of worms. It's almost always worse than it initially appears.
I don't have the appetite to write about Jake's conferences in detail. I had 15-20 minutes with 6 teachers today, and 30 minutes with the guidance counselor. It was illuminating and exhausting. In general, Jake is better in all areas, he earned As in most subjects, after all. But he clearly struggles and exerts tremendous effort to do as well as he does in all areas. He loses focus and stamina and requires constant redirection, the general underlying theme. He doesn't always manage to turn everything in and is disorganized. Math, in particular, has become hard for him. He and I talked today. He admits to being generally anxious about his performance in school, this said with tears in his eyes. What to do? I really don't know but more of the same. Pushing him along, trying to be positive and encouraging, not too negative, and always listening.
All I can say is, I just love my boys. I really do. It kind of kills me that things are not easier for either of them. I stared at the list of HIGH HONORS 6th grade kids, hanging in the hallway as I was waiting to meet with one teacher, and wondered how I felt about Jake not being there. It wasn't supposed to be this way, you know. His dad went to MIT! I went to Juilliard! We were supposed to have brilliant kids who sailed easily through. But my ridiculousness is not lost on me and the honest truth is, I'm not disappointed. Maybe things will turn out fine, anyway. And maybe even better than just fine, as neither of my boys are generalists at all or like anyone else.... Maybe all the better that both boys are tested and hopefully learn to be resilient people because they have to, confident on their own terms....
Tonight my childhood friend called to chat as she was driving home from work. I looked at the clock, it was 7:30pm. And all I could think was. Fine, her kids are high academic achievers, emotionally well adjusted it seems, and maybe don't need a parent home much anyway. But I am so lucky to be able to be with my kids, most of the time. Able to prod the kids and help put up a good ole fight.... Lucky that my husband and I don't want more stuff and I can do just that. I do really love being with my kids, despite the roller coaster ride.
Tonight, my sister's sis-in-law wrote me a text. She had just received my card saying that I could not attend her wedding in Vegas. A few years ago, she was involved with an old man and her life was full of secrets. Today, she appears so happy and open and is engaged to a wonderful, sweet guy. She wrote:
I just got your reply card. I am so sad that you won't be able to come to Vegas, but totally understand that it's a long way to go with the boys and during the school year. We'll take lots of pictures, don't worry!
I wanted to say that I really appreciate having you in my life. My brother marrying your sister was one of the best things that happened to him. But I too have benefitted by gaining several sisters!
I blinked back tears. And even when reading this to my little sister, later, I blinked back tears. Isn't this the stuff that makes life worth living?
it has begun
this morning
Work has begun to fix and clean up this room. And now that the project has begun, I have to admit I am excited and relieved. It feels terrible to otherwise sit by and watch something broken go unfixed. Why can't everything in life be so easily remedied?
Yesterday, hubby and I met with Belac's teacher at conferences. No surprises there. This afternoon, I meet with 6 of Jake's teachers for his conferences. We will see how it goes.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
pretty penny
IKEA: tiny sink
A few weeks ago, I cleaned up the same spill in the same place, 3 days in a row. Each time I asked in vain, why can't the kids keep the water IN the sink? And then, ding! I suddenly thought to look at what was going on. I looked up, I looked down, felt the walls and then emptied out the sink vanity. Yes, water leaking down the wall, a rotting vanity base and baseboard, water under the old linoleum tiles and plenty of mildew under there, I now see, bubbles in the paint filled with water that popped like zits.... For christ sakes! How long had this been going on?
It's a grungy, old bathroom I had hoped to spiff up, anyway. But it's not what I was expecting on the heels of the mud room and the upstairs bath of this year! The plumber says, after an unsuccessful repair, that he can't fully fix the problem without digging behind the plaster wall. And now the water has been shut off for 3 weeks in this powder room, what a pain! With my students and their families trekking upstairs to do their business, it's more to make presentable, 4 days a week.
So after 3 weeks of looking online, visiting Best Plumbing, Home Depot and even Klaff's - in search of a tiny sink, which I only then found out was 1000 dollars! This is what I'm okay with doing:
IKEA sink cabinet - $149
IKEA tiny sink - $70
IKEA single handle faucet - $69
2 acrylic shelves, Container Store - $30
Graham and Brown wallpaper - $150
TOTO Drake toilet and seat - $288
porcelain floor tile, dark slate-looking, an obvious splurge - $500
white paint - leftover
handyman - $25/hour, capped at 4 days of work
My point is, there's no way around it. On the cheap, while still trying to buy enduring stuff, this tiny room will cost a pretty penny.
By the way. This is a great article in the NYT about a Brooklyn kitchen renovation. Our own kitchen will certainly be IKEA, too. (Hopefully later than sooner, at this point.)
Monday, December 3, 2012
Sundays
Spent a sweet afternoon in NYC.
We ate bulgogi in Koreatown. Walked up Broadway into Times Square, all the while relishing the lights and sights and characters on the street. It was only 5pm, but it was already dark and the lights made everything sparkle. My boys and their friend saw a billboard with a brown shoe and spontaneously broke into Caliendo's song making fun of Adam Sandler. Belac took photos of whatever he saw that was amusing and we stopped every few paces to look at something novel. The crowds were something else, but the 3 boys stuck together as instructed, often all in a row. We moseyed onto Rockefeller, where we watched the countdown and light show on the Saks building and took a glance at the Christmas tree. Stopped at Michel's, where the kids chose chocolate lollipops, and then headed down much less congested Madison, back to our car in the 20s.
On the drive home, I overheard Nathan tell my boys. You are so lucky you don't have a sister! Sisters are annoying! Why? Jake asked. I listened carefully. Nathan said nothing about his sister having special needs and behavioral issues, probably the biggest reason for their challenges at the moment. Wow! Belac exclaimed, I hope you don't try to break my arm! No, I'd never do that to you, Nathan assured him. You guys are lucky, Nathan said, because you guys seem to get along. Well.... Jake mumbled but didn't say much. He must have known he had nothing to complain about, relatively speaking. Hubby nudged me. Did you hear what Nathan said? Well, it's true, I whispered. Despite everything, our boys do get along.
It was the perfect excursion, 5-hours, door-to-door. And how I love our Sunday afternoons. Unlike the rest of the week, where we are always keeping up, cleaning up, and living-up to a certain standard, Sundays we're just together and always out doing something. Whether on an old trail or exploring someplace new, I feel the most relaxed and happy on Sundays. Not surprisingly, it's always on Sundays I remember how much I love my family. We're so lucky.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
lexus
I got a call from my parents. They are in the market for a hybrid. Would we be interested in their Lexus? Doesn't your hubby need an AWD? they ask. They remembered during the recent Nor'easter that it took hubby over 4 hours to drive home on his usual 35 minute commute, much of it on backroads. They offered to trade in our Honda and we would take their low mileage Lexus at no extra expense to us.
I asked hubby about it. The Honda gets 30 miles to the gallon on regular gas, Gimky.... What do you think? he asked. Well, I don't want the Lexus, either!
Very sweet of my parents, but hoping our next car will be electric and American! I can at least say one thing for sure. It will not be a Lexus.
I asked hubby about it. The Honda gets 30 miles to the gallon on regular gas, Gimky.... What do you think? he asked. Well, I don't want the Lexus, either!
Very sweet of my parents, but hoping our next car will be electric and American! I can at least say one thing for sure. It will not be a Lexus.
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