Yesterday, off-handedly but with sincere enthusiasm, I mentioned to Blue that today was Pony Picture Day at his preschool. I figured he'd be excited to hear what awaited him at school on Monday morning, but I was wrong.
For those who are not aware, Pony Picture Day is, well, just like it sounds: you get your picture taken while sitting on a pony. We have two years worth of pictures of Boogah sitting on a pony donning a cowboy hat and vest (by his third year, we were over the pony and had him just pose with a pumpkin on a hay bail), and we even have a picture of Blue from last year (his first year of preschool) sitting atop of a very docile and friendly pony. Well, he must not remember doing this at all last year because this morning, he was not about to go sit on that damn pony. I should have known something was up when he asked yesterday how big a pony was. Me, being the oh-so attentive mother that I am, said something very non-helpful like, "Not very big." Well, he must have been mulling this over all evening and into the night (his classic, "Mommy? I can't sleep" at bedtime would have been another clue that something was bothering him --to an attentive mother that is!) because as soon as his eyes popped open this morning, he was armed with a mind-numbing "I don't want to go to school" mantra. I did take slight notice of this because he's never been one of those kids you have to pry off your leg or have the teacher rip from your arms to get them to go to school. He loves toys and other kids, so school is the best of all worlds to him. So, why wouldn't he want to go to school today? Then it dawned on me--pretty much during the drive to the school he didn't want to go to-- that he might actually be nervous about the pony. (Yes, I'm a quick one!) When I asked him, I found out that this was indeed the case. So, I told him that he didn't have to sit on the pony if he didn't want to. I told him that it was OK to be scared, but if he went and tried it, it may turn out to not be scary at all. I told him that Mommy gets scared to do certain things, too, but I usually find that I'm happy once I've tried to do whatever it is I think is scary. And I told him I'd let his teachers know that he didn't want to sit on the pony. After all my pep talking, he reluctantly, walked with me into school. But when we got to his classroom, he actually clung to my leg and said that he "just wanted to go home." After many attempts by his teachers and me at cajoling him into staying, I finally had to pull out the 'tough love.' I told him that he could go home, but when we got there, he wouldn't get to watch Power Rangers (uh, watch them again--yes, he'd already watched an episode or two before school. I know, I know, inattentive AND I let him watch t.v.--Power Rangers no less--before school. I, also, let him eat sugar. I'm not winning any awards any time soon, am I?) I said, "You can either stay here and have fun playing with your friends, or you can come home with me and no t.v." Eureka! I'm brilliant! It worked. He said he'd stay at school, and then he was off like a flash, as usual, playing blocks with his best buddy in the class. I believe I actually released an audible sigh of relief at that moment. Ahhh. Crises averted.
The whole incident got me thinking about fear and how it has a tendency to rule, or more so, inhibit our actions. Even in my advancing (ahem!)years, that uncomfortable prickle of fear creeps up on me quite often, making me halt and turn the other way so that I don't have to face whatever it is that scares me. I tell my kids that it's OK to be scared, but that they can't let it stop them from trying new things because I know that pang of regret and that bit of shame that comes with not trying something because I let the fear grip too tightly. This might be why I've been inching my way recently into writing, having avoided it for most of my life. I've avoided trying to write despite the fact that it was the one thing I remember wanting to do 'when I grew up.' Did I push my childhood ambitions aside because I feared not being good enough and failing? Did I fear actually succeeding, thinking that I didn't really deserve success? Or, was I simply fearful of the unknown, the toughest of all fears to overcome? Maybe it's all three or maybe it's more. Only many hours of therapy will uncover the reasons behind the whys, but I don't have the patience for that or for my fear anymore, so I'm trying to write--albeit slowly and cautiously, but I'm still trying.
After all, how can I tell Blue, when he fears the unknown pony, that he needs to face his fear and just try it, if I'm not willing to do the same? How could I have, in good conscience, encouraged Boogah to get past his fear on the first day of Kindergarten or even again on the first day of First Grade when his nerves were so intense he was almost shaking, if I don't ever step out of my own safe zone? I can't. And that is what I try to remember as I write this blog and attempt to write articles for content websites and when--are you ready for this one?-- I actually share my writing with other people! Yikes! The thought of it makes me want to curl up in the fetal position with my hands over my ears and sing, "La, la, la, la, la, la!" until it all goes away...but then moments like this morning with Blue pop into my consciousness, and I take a deep breath, and get a grip, and tell myself that it's OK to be scared and that all I ask of me is that I try.
When I picked Blue up from school today, his teachers all exclaimed that he SAT ON THE PONY! He just went up there and did it. No crying and no more cajoling needed. He simply did it. And he even smiled for the picture! I guess he sized up that pony and discovered that it wasn't half as scary as he thought it would be. He pushed past the fear, and as a result, he enjoyed the experience. I could see the pride on his face as he confirmed his teachers' claims, and I was so very proud of him, too.
Thanks, Blue, for teaching Mommy a little something today. I hope I did the same for you.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Goodness Is As Goodness Does
I witnessed an accident on the highway this evening as I was driving my boys home from tennis lessons. It shook me up, and I'm having a little trouble getting past it and my reaction (or lack there of) to it.
As I drove along, listening to my boys fight over a water bottle (of all things), I noticed in the distance a car that seemed to be taking an exit way too fast. But, the car missed the exit and veered off at full speed into the grass and trees to the left of the exit ramp. Smoke and dust and broken glass billowed out in the car's wake and soon a sea of red tail lights lit up in front of me. I slowed down with the rest of the traffic, and as I approached the dissipating dust cloud, I saw the car. It was a dark blue Corvette, half hidden by tree branches, hood crumpled from the impact with the tree trunk. I grabbed my phone, trying in a blink of a second to remember the cell phone code for the state police. The code wouldn't come, and I was ashamed that I wasn't helping that poor driver. I wasn't even making the critical call for the ambulance and police. I knew I couldn't stop with my kids in the car, and yet I couldn't even think to dial 911. I was frozen in a state of hesitation as I inched my car past the scene. I did nothing. Luckily, not all the passersby were like me. In my rear view mirror, I saw a man, who had immediately pulled his car over as soon as the Corvette veered off the road, approach the damaged car, stooping under the branches, bravely about to face whatever sight he might find. I noticed two other figures running toward the trees and a couple other cars had pulled over, undoubtedly, to see what they could do to help. With a little relief, I moved on towards home. Someone would help that person (or people) in the crumpled Corvette. Not me, but someone. Thank God for people like that man, first on the scene, stooping under the branches to look in the window. Thank God for the people who didn't hesitate. Thank God for those who selflessly take action whenever crisis strikes. I thought about the victims in the car, and I thought about the people who love them, and I thought about how I'd feel if someone I loved was in that car, and I cried.
Tonight I will pray for the driver and passengers. I will have faith that those brave passersby got them help and that the ambulance came screaming down the highway mere seconds after I passed the scene, saving them in time. I'll give thanks for those people who so selflessly stopped to help a fellow being in peril. And I'll ask for the courage to be that type of person, one who doesn't hesitate, but who takes action to help others.
As I drove along, listening to my boys fight over a water bottle (of all things), I noticed in the distance a car that seemed to be taking an exit way too fast. But, the car missed the exit and veered off at full speed into the grass and trees to the left of the exit ramp. Smoke and dust and broken glass billowed out in the car's wake and soon a sea of red tail lights lit up in front of me. I slowed down with the rest of the traffic, and as I approached the dissipating dust cloud, I saw the car. It was a dark blue Corvette, half hidden by tree branches, hood crumpled from the impact with the tree trunk. I grabbed my phone, trying in a blink of a second to remember the cell phone code for the state police. The code wouldn't come, and I was ashamed that I wasn't helping that poor driver. I wasn't even making the critical call for the ambulance and police. I knew I couldn't stop with my kids in the car, and yet I couldn't even think to dial 911. I was frozen in a state of hesitation as I inched my car past the scene. I did nothing. Luckily, not all the passersby were like me. In my rear view mirror, I saw a man, who had immediately pulled his car over as soon as the Corvette veered off the road, approach the damaged car, stooping under the branches, bravely about to face whatever sight he might find. I noticed two other figures running toward the trees and a couple other cars had pulled over, undoubtedly, to see what they could do to help. With a little relief, I moved on towards home. Someone would help that person (or people) in the crumpled Corvette. Not me, but someone. Thank God for people like that man, first on the scene, stooping under the branches to look in the window. Thank God for the people who didn't hesitate. Thank God for those who selflessly take action whenever crisis strikes. I thought about the victims in the car, and I thought about the people who love them, and I thought about how I'd feel if someone I loved was in that car, and I cried.
Tonight I will pray for the driver and passengers. I will have faith that those brave passersby got them help and that the ambulance came screaming down the highway mere seconds after I passed the scene, saving them in time. I'll give thanks for those people who so selflessly stopped to help a fellow being in peril. And I'll ask for the courage to be that type of person, one who doesn't hesitate, but who takes action to help others.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Enough is Enough
I am already so over this whole election thing. Not, necessarily, because it isn't all very interesting and that I'm not concerned about the future of our country or who the next most powerful person(s) in the free world will be, but simply because the zealots (on both sides) are annoying the hell out of me.
Tell me, since when did Facebook become a platform for expressing one's political beliefs? Yeah, yeah, Freedom of Speech and all that. I get it. But isn't Facebook supposed to be, you know, fun? (And only slightly less creepy than MySpace?) Well, I have news: reading someone else's political mini-rants on Facebook is NOT fun.
In past elections, the platform for political expression has been limited (somewhat) to the oh-so-effective bumper sticker tactic. How many bumper stickers have I witnessed in years past, 'screaming' at me from the car ahead, insisting that I see the driver's political point-of-view while I make my way to the grocery store? (I believe it is a proven fact that 97% of political epiphanies occur in the car on the way to the grocery store, so they actually may be onto something.) Bumper stickers are annoying in general and especially when they're political, but I have stickers on my car (on the back window, not the bumper and not of a political nature), so I suppose I can't judge people who express themselves with their car too harshly. However, when I log on to Facebook (yes, I'm almost forty and enjoy a little Facebook socializing from time to time -- judging, are you? I didn't think so), I want to see a witty 'status' message or some recent pictures a friend has posted, or maybe I just want to keep in touch with a long, lost acquaintance or two in a light-hearted, casual manner. I don't, however, want to be forced to believe that Sarah Palin is a She-Devil in glasses or that Barack Obama's lack of experience will be our country's downfall. I don't like some one else trying to make my mind up for me, or make me feel ashamed of the choice I do finally make -- especially on Facebook! I'll watch the debates, listen to the interviews and make my own informed decision based on my own belief systems--not because of Facebook coercion.
Enough is enough people! If you feel that strongly about a candidate, that's great! More power to you--go do some real work for their campaign. Pound the pavement, attend a rally, raise money, heck! even write your own blog and let people CHOOSE to read your opinions. But please, please, lay off the running political commentary on Facebook!
Ahh, I feel better. I've said it. I've expressed my opinion --on MY OWN BLOG--and now I must go (update my status on Facebook).
*************
Another, much more brilliant, blogger expresses some views on the election and how those of us who are not worked up into a frothing, panting frenzy over any particular candidate feel. She expresses it much better than I. Enjoy: http://www.notesfromthetrenches.com/2008/09/09/marco/
Tell me, since when did Facebook become a platform for expressing one's political beliefs? Yeah, yeah, Freedom of Speech and all that. I get it. But isn't Facebook supposed to be, you know, fun? (And only slightly less creepy than MySpace?) Well, I have news: reading someone else's political mini-rants on Facebook is NOT fun.
In past elections, the platform for political expression has been limited (somewhat) to the oh-so-effective bumper sticker tactic. How many bumper stickers have I witnessed in years past, 'screaming' at me from the car ahead, insisting that I see the driver's political point-of-view while I make my way to the grocery store? (I believe it is a proven fact that 97% of political epiphanies occur in the car on the way to the grocery store, so they actually may be onto something.) Bumper stickers are annoying in general and especially when they're political, but I have stickers on my car (on the back window, not the bumper and not of a political nature), so I suppose I can't judge people who express themselves with their car too harshly. However, when I log on to Facebook (yes, I'm almost forty and enjoy a little Facebook socializing from time to time -- judging, are you? I didn't think so), I want to see a witty 'status' message or some recent pictures a friend has posted, or maybe I just want to keep in touch with a long, lost acquaintance or two in a light-hearted, casual manner. I don't, however, want to be forced to believe that Sarah Palin is a She-Devil in glasses or that Barack Obama's lack of experience will be our country's downfall. I don't like some one else trying to make my mind up for me, or make me feel ashamed of the choice I do finally make -- especially on Facebook! I'll watch the debates, listen to the interviews and make my own informed decision based on my own belief systems--not because of Facebook coercion.
Enough is enough people! If you feel that strongly about a candidate, that's great! More power to you--go do some real work for their campaign. Pound the pavement, attend a rally, raise money, heck! even write your own blog and let people CHOOSE to read your opinions. But please, please, lay off the running political commentary on Facebook!
Ahh, I feel better. I've said it. I've expressed my opinion --on MY OWN BLOG--and now I must go (update my status on Facebook).
*************
Another, much more brilliant, blogger expresses some views on the election and how those of us who are not worked up into a frothing, panting frenzy over any particular candidate feel. She expresses it much better than I. Enjoy: http://www.notesfromthetrenches.com/2008/09/09/marco/
Thursday, September 11, 2008
And Now What?
Well, the school year is officially underway. (Say it with me now, "Hallelujah!") Both boys have their first (and second for the older one) week under their belt. Everyone is well acquainted with their teachers, classroom and fellow students. After last year, which was a big year of 'firsts' with Boogah starting Kindergarten and Blue starting preschool, this year, so far, seems pretty manageable. Both boys have good friends from last year in their classes again, which is always comforting, and they have both matured quite a bit (relatively speaking) since this time last year. So, I'm breathing a little sigh of relief. Not only for the few precious hours to myself when they are both in school, but also because I think they will both have great years.
The question I have now is: what am I going to do with myself?
I was hoping to find a fun part time job that would enable me to GET OUT OF THE HOUSE while the boys are in school. A little extra money around here wouldn't hurt either -- I haven't been shoe shopping in forever people! I jest of course (well, for the most part--it HAS been forever since I've had a new pair of shoes). Helping to pay off the credit card or actually save some money each month would be nice, too. Plus, I think after so many years as a stay-at-home mom (7 years and counting), I'm in the midst of an identity crises, or maybe it's a self esteem issue or, more than likely, all of the above and more. When I really take a look at it, I think I'm disappointed in myself that I never tried to be a working mom --or at least a part-time working mom. I see other moms at my boys' schools who are lawyers or doctors, but who have managed to find a good work/family balance by working part-time. I have to admit, I get a little jealous when I see them in their nice clothes heading off to do important things. And I get a little mad at myself because I really don't know if I could actually juggle it all like they do. Hell, I get overwhelmed and bitchy if I have more than one or two things going on in my day. Maybe this is simply because that's what I'm used to. Maybe I could handle more. I'd like to think I could.
Well, what I do know is that the right thing will come a long at the right time. And in the mean time, I'm fixing up this house so that maybe one day I can move to a new one (of course a job is a key factor in that whole fantasy, too). Right now I'm completely obsessed with painting the doors-- I literally had a 'calling' to paint my front door last week. So, I've got the first coat on now and will finish up the second coat tomorrow. It's a bright red (it was a dull, peeling, darker red before). I'll be painting the doors on the side of the house to match it next week. I'm not sure why this project was suddenly so important, but I might as well do it now--you know, since the kids are in school and since I don't have a job and all. Who knows? Maybe I'm just preparing for when my new career opportunity comes a-knocking!
***********************
(Seven years ago today, I, newly returned from the hospital, sat in the safety of my bedroom holding my newborn son. As I began my transition into motherhood, I watched, in horror, as the Twin Towers vaporized into a crumbling heap of rubble. It seemed like the end of the world. I wept in mourning for those who lost their lives and for those who lost their loved ones, but I also wept in fear and gratitude for the new little life I held tightly in my arms. I will never forget that morning--for many reasons. And I hope we, as a nation, will never forget. Let's hope that those new, little lives who have arrived in this mixed up world since 9/11/2001 will never, ever have to experience anything like the events that occurred on that horrible day. Let's hope that something heals the hatred in the world, once and for all.)
The question I have now is: what am I going to do with myself?
I was hoping to find a fun part time job that would enable me to GET OUT OF THE HOUSE while the boys are in school. A little extra money around here wouldn't hurt either -- I haven't been shoe shopping in forever people! I jest of course (well, for the most part--it HAS been forever since I've had a new pair of shoes). Helping to pay off the credit card or actually save some money each month would be nice, too. Plus, I think after so many years as a stay-at-home mom (7 years and counting), I'm in the midst of an identity crises, or maybe it's a self esteem issue or, more than likely, all of the above and more. When I really take a look at it, I think I'm disappointed in myself that I never tried to be a working mom --or at least a part-time working mom. I see other moms at my boys' schools who are lawyers or doctors, but who have managed to find a good work/family balance by working part-time. I have to admit, I get a little jealous when I see them in their nice clothes heading off to do important things. And I get a little mad at myself because I really don't know if I could actually juggle it all like they do. Hell, I get overwhelmed and bitchy if I have more than one or two things going on in my day. Maybe this is simply because that's what I'm used to. Maybe I could handle more. I'd like to think I could.
Well, what I do know is that the right thing will come a long at the right time. And in the mean time, I'm fixing up this house so that maybe one day I can move to a new one (of course a job is a key factor in that whole fantasy, too). Right now I'm completely obsessed with painting the doors-- I literally had a 'calling' to paint my front door last week. So, I've got the first coat on now and will finish up the second coat tomorrow. It's a bright red (it was a dull, peeling, darker red before). I'll be painting the doors on the side of the house to match it next week. I'm not sure why this project was suddenly so important, but I might as well do it now--you know, since the kids are in school and since I don't have a job and all. Who knows? Maybe I'm just preparing for when my new career opportunity comes a-knocking!
***********************
(Seven years ago today, I, newly returned from the hospital, sat in the safety of my bedroom holding my newborn son. As I began my transition into motherhood, I watched, in horror, as the Twin Towers vaporized into a crumbling heap of rubble. It seemed like the end of the world. I wept in mourning for those who lost their lives and for those who lost their loved ones, but I also wept in fear and gratitude for the new little life I held tightly in my arms. I will never forget that morning--for many reasons. And I hope we, as a nation, will never forget. Let's hope that those new, little lives who have arrived in this mixed up world since 9/11/2001 will never, ever have to experience anything like the events that occurred on that horrible day. Let's hope that something heals the hatred in the world, once and for all.)
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