Studying and Observing

02.27.2011

We were at an Oscar party held by some friends whose 9-month old baby boy presented me with a very sweet memory. When we got to their house, he took one look at Rob, who has a goatee and wears glasses, and just stared at him with his jaw open. You could see he was studying Rob’s face and was trying to figure out why he looked so different from daddy. To watch this was so cool. After a moment, he outstretched his hand, patted Rob’s face a couple of times before realizing that a goatee and glasses scare him.

I’ve always been an observer, studying any number of subjects, and I found it fascinating to study this little boy as he tried to figure out if Rob was acceptable or not. Eventually I told Rob that I found out a while ago from his mom that outside of his dad, he’s still very unsure about accepting the company of other men. Women, on the other hand, he adores. Rob’s response to this was, “That’s my kind of man.” Sigh…

The Heart of Mushy Cereal is Love

02.22.2011

I baby-sat today and after about a 12-year gap of taking care of a toddler, there are many things I forgot about. For example, bibs are an excellent invention and breakfast isn’t a 15-minute affair. In fact, it’s not a 30-minute affair or a 45 or 60-minute one. Also each action is a reaction to a negotiation and why more mothers aren’t hired as lawyers, contract arbitrators or political negotiators is beyond me.

I was also reminded that a “quick” walk down the block would be more than 15-minutes. And I learned that convincing a two-year old that traipsing through a bed of flowers takes more skill than solving a computer problem. Or that convincing said two-year old that chewing on miniscule dinosaur toys isn’t good for you could instantly become more challenging than any statistical math problem ever presented. Both involve logic, right? You’d think.

There are other things I forgot about in this 12-year absence such as the magic of tiny hands offering a hug or the stretching out of one of those tiny, chubby hands to share a now mushy piece of cereal that at one point was in the mouth but is now intended to be consumed by me. I also forgot how sacred the trust is that we are all born with and lose along the way. I also didn’t realize how protective I feel about that trust. I forgot how melodic a child’s giggle is or how wondrous is the moment when a child realizes if you pour sand into a construction toy it will make wheels spin. And how this simple mechanical toy fascinates a toddler’s imagination for a very long time.

I still believe that children are not ours to keep; that they are merely ours on loan and from the very first moment we hold them in our arms we are to teach them to be independent, respectful and loving. I also believe that whatever psychological and emotional issues we have as individuals they are ours to work out, not the child’s responsibility to either mask those problems or “fix” them. But what I’m coming to realize is that while we should be teaching them independence, they teach us to open our hearts and eyes to the world and to understand that independence isn’t the sole point to survival. Children depend on us and we depend on them to remind us that the flower they stop to smell is a necessary moment to feel connected to everything around us. Perhaps it is the children that are our true teachers and not the other way around…

Parent-Child Relationships

01.21.2011

The following is an excerpt from the latest episode of Parenthood. It simultaneously helped me understand my mom a little bit and it also helped me see myself perhaps saying something very similar one day…

(Mother, Sarah, is talking to her daughter, Amber.)

“I’m sorry you’re not doing the open mic night, I feel bad about that. You know, when you have kids, if you have kids, there’s something you should know. Very confusing thing they don’t tell you. You see so much of yourself in them. You see your ironic take on the world, you see your smile, your walk, your sense of humor, whatever, and you think they’re you. But they’re not you and they shouldn’t have all of your baggage, your fear and your insecurity, and your life experience because that’s not fair. They have their own. Your song is beautiful. It’s haunting and moving and it’s so you. And that’s all I should’ve said to you the other night. I’m so proud and I’m so impressed and I’m so in awe of you. And I want you to just go out there and fly. You can fly.”

Proud Teacher

01.16.2011

While doing some yard work today, I was thinking about my day yesterday with my 8^th graders and realized that I was really proud of them. We read a somewhat difficult story in class in which there were a lot of new Lithuanian vocabulary words, but they stuck with me and we worked through it together. I’m building the curriculum as we go so these stories that we’re reading are new to me and, as a result, I can’t really predict how the lesson is going to go. The great thing about building a curriculum from scratch (and having a principal who lets you do so) is that you have total freedom but the drawback is also that you have total freedom and that you have a 50-50 shot of the story being engaging. By never having taught a story, you enter the lesson blindly, if you will. So when I’m able to grab the students’ attention enough to see in their faces that they’re thinking about my questions I’m very proud of them. And I hope I remember to tell them so next week.

Driving While Angry

01.15.2011

This morning, I was almost involved in an accident that would’ve been caused by an angry woman driving erratically.

When at a stop sign getting ready to make a left-hand turn, I noticed a car speeding down the street and decided to wait and see if the car would stop because for a moment it didn’t look like it would. When it stopped and I felt like my life wasn’t in danger, I started to turn and noticed a woman driver with a scowl on her face and a kid sitting in the front seat. There may have been a child in the backseat but I didn’t get a chance to see because mid-turn, the woman started to drive, flooring the accelerator and driving around me. I laid on the horn and yelled for only the air to hear, “You have a damn kid in the car!”

I could tell by one glance that this woman was angry and that she shouldn't have been behind the wheel. In addition to the danger she was posing, she was teaching a horrible lesson to her kid(s). I don’t know what happened to warrant such a reaction from her, and hopefully she wasn’t involved in any kind of an accident, but she certainly took a large gamble by getting behind the wheel in such a state of mind.

I’m not saying that I’ve never driven when angry. I have, and it's not right. I always feel silly once I calm down because no one else on the road knows I’m angry except that my hands are gesturing all over the place and I'm yelling or driving erratically. So what does that accomplish? We all gamble with our lives when we drive, so why do we choose to raise the stakes instead of taking a couple of minutes to calm down? And why do we increase the stakes even more with kids in the car?

I recently read something that has stuck with me: It’s better to lose a second in your life than lose your life in a second.

Be smart. Kids are learning.

Teens Don't Have to Be Aliens.

09.11.2010

Today was the first day of Lithuanian school, and I decided before summer to go back and teach because after a year’s break, I missed the routine (even though every Saturday morning as I rush to get out the door I ask myself, “Why am I doing this?” Although I use more colorful language.) But most importantly, I wanted to go back because I’m realizing with each year that I’m losing more of the language.

I’m teaching 8^th graders and I’m at the point where I chuckle to myself each time I tell someone because the commons response is, “Ugh, how can you do that?” When I taught full-time, I taught junior high and absolutely loved it but, at Lithuanian school, I always taught 4^th graders because I didn’t trust my language skills to be able to communicate appropriately especially if there would be disciplinary issues.

Anyway, I couldn’t be happier with my decision and am thrilled to pieces to be working with the group of kids that I have this year (whom I had as 4^th graders). The thing that people forget about teens is that if you reason with them, if you put yourself out there to see them eye-to-eye, they will return the respect. Think about it. What do teens want? They want to be heard and understood and if you provide that kind of an environment for them, they will work for you. As long as they know that they are safe and there is no judgment, they will open up and it’s precisely that opportunity that I like to provide for them. Teens are just awakening to the world around them and are learning to experience so many different emotions that I relish in being able to help guide them into helping them find their identity.

And a little thing I learned about myself today…to trust myself more and to give myself a bit more credit than I do. I even had the boys raising their hands and willingly participating in class discussion…in Lithuanian! That’s pretty damn good, if I may say so myself. It almost makes me want to have a teenager…

…I said almost…

What Color is Your Sky?

07.01.2010

I really didn’t want to write today. At one point I tried to convince myself that it’s because I’m just exhausted with this topic. To be (a parent) or not to be? I mean, really. Why is it so hard? All I’ve ever done is make things more complicated. When most people answer “Blue” to the question “What color is the sky?” I’m the one who answers, “Shades of periwinkle, pink and purple.” I mean, why can’t I just say “blue” and be done with it?

At another point today I thought I could just make up an issue to write about but that quickly proved to be more work than I wanted to put in.

So I’m buckling down and writing the truth because…the reason I started this blog was to explore my emotions, thoughts, opinions, etc and I’m not benefiting anyone, most of all myself, if I don’t include all my emotions, thoughts, opinions, etc. Right?

I was on the bus today coming back from physical therapy for my back when a young woman, maybe even a teen, walked on with a baby and her friend. This got my brain on a rant about teen mothers and blah-blah-blah. I looked at the girl’s baby, a little boy of about 8 or 9 months, and…it got me thinking. (A very dangerous thing.)

“What is your problem?” A deeply recognizable voice from the dark corridors of my imagination asked.

“What do you mean?” I asked innocently.

“You know you’re going to have a child. So what are you waiting for?”

I said nothing hoping that my silence would make this crazy voice go away.

“You are one day going to be in your 50s with or without children. So either way you look at it, life is moving forward. What are you waiting for?” This annoying voice continued.

“But what about my writing and a life of creativity?!” I yelled.

“What about it?” The voice shot back.

How the hell am I losing a battle with my own self? I thought.

I eventually got off the bus and wandered back to my place with odd scenarios playing out in front of me such as me with my own child doing various, fun things together. And for a brief moment, and I mean a brief moment, I let myself enjoy those thoughts.

I often talk about how our society is dictated by fear. How we allow our fears to make decisions for us and how we allow those fears to rob us from living and experiencing life in the moment. I myself have asked people What are you waiting for? in reference to their wanting to start something new but are too scared to (like a new project, losing weight, taking an art class, etc). Each decision can be transformative – for good or for bad – but regardless, it’s one more level of learning (about ourselves).

I decided I wanted to make movies when I was 3 and at age 8 I discovered writing and decided that that’s what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I am obviously doing neither and the odds are strongly against me that either will happen professionally but it was only 4 years that I became serious about my writing and filming. And what I’ve learned in these last few years is that I am doing exactly what I always wanted to do even if I’m not getting paid for it. And I’m happy. Adding a child to the mix wouldn’t be easy and frankly that terrifies me. But I have tasted what it’s like to have a creative outlet for myself and I’m hell bent on never losing that. To give that up would be a sin and unforgivable for me. Therefore, just like anything that’s important, I’d have to figure out a way with Rob where I’d be able to keep the writing and any little film projects on the side because it’s what I need in order to keep going. The 9 to 5 brings the money…but my outlet is writing and filming.

I’m not quite ready to take the plunge…but I am getting slightly closer to answering the question, What are you waiting for? Even if it means complicating my life even more. But then, that’s quite familiar territory.