expectations will get you every time.

expectations- they are just there even when we don't consciously create them.  sometimes we don't even notice them until they are left unmet- and we're feeling disappointed and wondering why.  when we have that feeling and we can't  figure out where it's coming from.  deflated.  

i'm back in the city of san francisco with zoe.  this place which so much reminds me of her- of our lives together when she was tiny and very, very blonde and we were very busy going to and from schools and aftercare and appointments.  this is also our first trip together just she and i.  and not surprisingly, it's been good and it's been hard and i'm exhausted.  it's also rainy and 55 degree's and gray and all the shine and shimmer of this sexy city has peeled back and i'm left annoyed by the lack of green, the parking, and the smell mixture of muni, dirty sidewalks and incense.  but mostly my mood is because of the underlay of my unbeknownst expectations.

i think i'd imagined that there would be pedicures and window shopping and revisiting old places and remembering.  i think i'd imagined connection.  completion even.  resolve.  that coming back to the place where in some ways it all began, would be healing, unlocking, or....something.  that with out all the distractions of normal life and with out her brothers or mike, we'd be able to talk, to dissect it, to explore nostalgia.

instead, we've experienced regression, distraction, overwhelm, disconnect. not awful sticky thoughts, thank God, but landing 'in space'- clearly regrouping into her happy place- or at least her safe place. which is removed from me and who ever we were with. it's not been horribly, but certainly far from my, dare i admit it, expectations.

it's a lot for her to take in.  new things are hard, but old things that look new but are supposed to be recalled, are even harder. and for zoe, who just this year, has begun to experience the complex emotion of nostalgia, the tizita, it's extra hard.

so i'm left with managing twice.  managing my, in full disclosure, 'let down' and, helping her process.  today, i didn't do either well.  today i let myself down.  i was snappy and annoyed and desperate. i wanted her to just be that 11 year old daughter i'd dreamed up sometime.  i didn't want it to be difficult.  i didn't want her to pull back into her head and pull up the rope latter behind her.

we were out for a late 'brunch'. 
at zazi's.
i was hoping to get some meat into her- some protein- bacon and eggs.  (the gluten/ casein free thing is killer when traveling!)
we were eating and the coffee cake thing i ordered was completely different than what i'd remembered and i had to go back to the car to get her special muffins and when i came back she was just checked out.  i asked her what we should remember about yesterday for her scrapbook.

"well, i don't know.  can i listen to peter gabriel on your iphone?"
"no- let's think about yesterday, who we saw, what we did."
"i really just want to listen to your iphone."
"but we're at a restaurant.  can we please just have a conversation?  you seem so far away.  why are you so far away? i feel so disconnected from you."
"i know.  i'm sorry.  i just want to listen to your iphone."
"not now honey."
"mommy?  you know sometimes i just get like this, do you understand?"
"yes zoe, i do.  i mean, i don't really understand, but i know you do.  i get tired when i travel too."
"well, what parts of it do you not understand but know you know about me?"
"i know you do this when you're kind of overwhelmed. "
"yeah"
"do you want to go home?"
"no, i'm OK."

so there it was.  there it is.  i need to lower those _(*$&%*$* expectations!  i need to live in the reality of my life.  i need to see the progress, see the challenge, accept the differences.  not be angry at what i don't have.  instead be thrilled with what i do have.  embrace the life we're given- in it's beauty and it's yuck.  forgive the wandering off in the market, the baby-talk when we see the buffaloes at golden gate park, the hiding from her friend who she hasn't seen in 4 years, the arguing with the 2 year old we're staying with.  i need to stop saying "can't you at least act 7?" and give her a giant hug.  i need to remember that different wiring requires more patience and more forgiveness and at least as much love as i give to others.

tonight we're toning it down.  she's watching 'noggin' to chill out.  we're eating over lisa and yoyo's which is like home to her.  we will just 'be' in this down time.

tomorrow we'll go visit her old elementary school- the place she was teased for not doing the monkey bars, for being too slow in line,  and for not paying attention in class, but where she was loved and supported by a group of very committed teachers and specialists. 

and i will walk beside her with nothing but pride because she is the one who wants to go back, she is the one who needs to see it, she is a courageous soul.  she allows herself to experience it, even if she knows it will be hard, even if she's not able to verbally process it, even if she'll need to just veg and listen to 'i'm a lonely little petunia' on the iphone.  and i'll let go of pedicures and window shopping.  and i'll wait for the remembering.  i'll wait for the processing.  maybe the remembering will be of this trip- of our new memories- of our mommy-daughter time together, of this new san francisco experience.

time change

it's hard to get used to the time change. getting up in a darker morning - sitting outside in a lighter evening.  it will take some getting used to.  today jude was almost late for school because i just couldn't get out of the bed- but it was worth it.  except for the part where he decided he couldn't get a "tardy" and we had to run the whole way and i hadn't even had coffee yet. yes, it will take some getting used to, as it will to have a kid who cares more than i do about him getting to school on time- so, so different from his sister.

and as i'm walking back home at 8:01, i see another mom leaving the drop off scene.  she has her other child with her.  they are walking slowly hand in hand.   he looks about 7, but is small and has glasses and hearing aides and walks awkwardly, the coordination of movement takes effort.   i say "hi" to him and he doesn't respond and i say something about the warm day and the time change and being late to his mom and go on ahead imaging what her day is like.  what her days are like with her boy- her years- how she is entwined with him.  i thought how hard it must be, and how thankful i am that zoe is so functional and verbal and all the things she is, but a part of me was envious of the 'known-ness' of their situation.  i imagined myself with him- walking to school- taking our time- going to physical therapy- knowing that he'd probably be with us forever- and i imagined moving into a place of acceptance - of surrender.  (right- as if i know their situation.  as if it's ever easy.  as if i wouldn't have the same goals and aspirations, the same struggle to do the right thing for my child as i do now).

then i thought about my plans for the day with zoe- how she is scheduled to have a playdate with her friend in the morning and another one with her friend in the afternoon.  i thought about how i get stressed out that we won't have time to do her copy work, math, reading- that she can't write a report on three books compared- or a poetry anthology- or a creative writing piece on the eighth voyage of sinbad the sailor- all the things i did when i was her age.  i go to these places of wanting her to be typical- expecting her to be - frustrated with myself for not teaching her in a way to get her there. and in that i deny the blessing of who she is- i forget we are on a different path- i don't forgive us that.

it's so typical of me- that extremeness- black or white- high achiever or handicapped license plate- i struggle to walk my middle ground. to live in the gray.  to trust myself that a full day of social is for her, school, is for her learning, necessary, essential.  


i got my hair cut today.  i was talking to the guy about the up-in-the-air-ness about our africa plans.  we don't know exactly when we're going, we have little control over it because we need to sell the house and fund raise, and i heard myself say- "but it's all good! it's a good place to be- to live in a place of unknown- to recognize a lack of control- to have to live in a state of limbo- it feels really right for my soul."  those words actually came out of my mouth.  as i heard them, and i recognized my own voice- i saw that i'm making progress. somewhere inside me,  i am moving in that direction, it just hasn't sunk in with zoe.

i'm a slow learner.  i need to see it, hear it, feel it, write it- over and over- for change to happen.

it is the season of lent.  a season of giving up something to focus more on God- chocolate, alcohol, whatever.  tomorrow we're one week in i've been stuck with what i'm going to give up.  but i think that is is- i'm going to just 'give up' and focus on God.  give up the control - give up the need for things to be pretty- give up the expectations- give up the absurd idea of reaching consistency in her days- and focus more on what God has given her, and me, and our family.  focus on trusting His plan for things- and my little role in that- self de-flation.

now it's very late and dark and tomorrow will be hard to open my eyes to.  i will give up and sleep- good night.

a really good day and some other things

it's delicious out.  and to make it even better, it has been a truly delicious day.   last night no boys woke us up with growing pains. this morning zoe not only came downstairs dressed, but with out being asked she made herself (frozen) pancakes, poured her own drink, even got out her medicine and sat down to eat.  in this process, she didn't yell at her brother, or get frustrated by how to work the microwave, it was, a moment.  i was amazed and thankful.  because for zoe, this task requires high levels of motor planning, focus, patience and initiative- i am so proud of her.

for me, that was enough- before 9:30 am we had accomplished enough.  even if the rest of the day was a scholastic disaster- i was going to be happy.  but, that was only the beginning.  she told me that she'd finished her book 'charlie and the chocolate factory' yesterday (again, on her own) and then gave me a summary of the book.   she quietly did her copy work, she motored through fractions of all things- and got it!

all i can think is, who ate zoe and left this child in her place?

we've been reading 'good queen bess' about queen elizabeth I.  she loves it, because she loves stories- and that is what history is.  today it led to all sorts of great questions- what are small pox? when did they discover germs? how did they discover them? what about microscopes? then onto the geography of great Britain and europe; then some grammar, defining parts of speech, discussing vocabulary words, even breaking down metaphors: "Walsingham's net caught many fish" when speaking of elizabeth's secretary's trap to catch mary queen of scots in treason. we discussed the nuances of 'good and evil' and tried to expand on her dichotomous, disney-esque  approach to all stories.  we talked about the layers of history and that there are different perspectives-different motives - different sides.  we talked about religion and war and violence.

it was home-schooling at it's best- organic- minimally planned- student led- really, all i did was facilitate, let her sit on my lap, and be available.  all i did was quiet my crazy mind and be still.

there is a quote from an american indian-
 "the busy mind is sick, the quiet mind is good, but the still mind is divine."

oh it would be divine to have a still mind.

zoe was off to play with her "friend with autism" and then to her social group.  so i went to get my youngest and run the dreaded 'target' errands. Target must be another name for "how to always spend  $100 when you go for household paper products".

so bryn and i are walking around finding all the things that we'd forgotten we "needed" - like spiderman socks in the dollar bin- and scotch tape.  we were in the boys section because jude's birthday is next week- and i'm noticing that pretty much everything is covered in skulls.

OK- my boys are all about them too- because of pirates- but do we really want our kids covered in creepy? i started flipping through the 75% off section of winter clothes and i'm seeing all these shirts with writing on them (and skulls- usually mixed with guitars).  the phrases on these shirts are all flip and glib and sound like they'd come out of the mouth of bart simpson.  i'm thinking how fascinating this is from a sociological perspective.  and then i come across this one, scribbly writing between drawings of skulls and roses and guitars, saying:  "not here for a long time, only here for a good time."  what? you're in kindergarten.  i hope you're hear for a long time.  and i know you don't know that huey lewis song.

and i'm thinking about my generation as parents and how we dress our kids and how it's still really all about us. i mean is there such thing as a 'cool' two year old? sometimes i want to go up and ask the decked out kid in the pink floyd prism shirt what his favorite song is on 'dark side of the moon'.  it's like our little kids have become bumper stickers- carriers of our image-they're part of our 'brand'. 

what's funny to me is that our generation plans to raise true individuals- kids who aren't just little versions of us- we're OK if they don't want to do what we do or share our views or play the sport we played- but God forbid they want to wear elmo and not the rolling stones.

we all want our kids to look good, i get it, i do too.  and if we wear concert t-shirts than it's not that weird that we'd put them on our kids- but it is amusing to see someone dressed like an 1986 burn out, toting a sippy cup and whining.

the only kid of mine who has any interest in fashion- if you can call it that- is my 4 year old.  he currently has 4 shirts that he will wear- batman, a gray north carolina outdoor store shirt, a plain navy shirt, and a grandma-found-it-on-sale nerdy gray, turquoise and red stripped long sleeve polo shirt.  i don't like any of them- but i love that he cares- that he has his own opinion- that he's differentiating.  because that's what he's supposed to do.

personally i'm a big fan of the hand-me-down.  not just because it's free- although that is definitely a plus- but because it's funny.  jude wore a shirt all summer that said "go uncle jake!" and he doesn't have an uncle jake.  and bryn got attached to a shirt covered in camels that said 'jerusalem' across the bottom- but we've never been to israel.

zoe's fashion is all about comfort- no seams in the shirts, no jeans, no tags in clothes- and the less fabric touching her skin the better.  "Zoe, you're shivering, are you Ok?"  "i'm fine."  " you do realize that you're wearing shorts and it's snowing out."  "mom! i'm fine!"

but really, what do i care who wears what- we are so lucky we have options- and it was a good day! 

i leave you with my line of designer kids shirts- images on the front- writing on the back.

                   "i'd rather be wearing elmo- but i'll take one for the team."

     
"my parents think this shirt is cool, but they don't even own the album"

                                               "i'm scared of my shirt"

le bien, le mal

the good, the bad.  i'm trying.  i'm trying not to feel sorry for myself. trying to look on the bright side. so much of life is just how we break it down, how we paint it, half full, half empty.  i'm looking at zoe and the world around her- zoe and other 11 year olds.  which is almost always a big mistake.

this part is so hard for me, maybe only for me- hopefully only for me.  it's hard that she is never invited- never asked, that she's no ones number one.  that i need to instigate, plan, invite or organize.  that other girls call each other, meet each other and go for ice cream or bagels or gum.  that they have sleepovers.  that they are expanding there horizons- becoming independent- formulating themselves apart from their parents- creating their worlds together- as peers- as friends- with unity and commonality.  that they go to 'friday night skate' and begin the drama of boy meets girl.

and there's my girl- alone.  sometimes they stop by- which is good, and kind and nice and she loves.  but it's painful too.  the difference. the sideways looks between them.  the obvious difference in how they talk to her.  and her over-talking, nervous, trying, awkward, not following.  you know these kids from your own childhood- they didn't fit in- you didn't really want to be around them- because it was awkward for you too- you didn't invite them over- you were nice and polite but you were not friends.  or maybe you weren't even nice- maybe you were mean. or maybe you were one of those kids- who just didn't get it-ever, and you know how much it sucked.

i should be over it by now.  it's not new.  this is how it's always been. somehow i'm just not over it.  somehow it's actually harder now.

yesterday i was on a walk with one of my best friends.  we were talking about uganda and zoe and schooling.  i was saying our plan was to continue homeschooling her for a while- that i wasn't sure if we'd put her back in school- but that i get stressed sometimes about her future- about whether she'd want to go to college and how that would happen.  she said she wouldn't worry about that because zoe's path was so obviously going to be different- that she wasn't going to just go off to college and find a boy and get married- like i did. ouch.  that stung.  maybe it stung because maybe inside i know it's true.  maybe it stung because i had to hear it out loud from someone else- a voice of my fears.  or because it was taking away some far off hope.  but mostly it stung because true as it may be- it's just not something you can state.  as if it's a 'known', as if it doesn't deserve an acknowledgement of the fact that it totally sucks. and it's  really, really hard, and isolating, and unknown.  it stung because she has no idea how much it stings everyday- and every year- and that while her life goes on and follows it typical course- mine doesn't.  and i try hard to not feel sorry - i try hard not to wish it were different here- i try hard not to feel jealous and resentful. but sometimes i do.  and then of course i feel terribly guilty.


right now zoe is over at lily's house.  i invited her over, i called, i dropped her there. she is waiting for lily to come back with her friends from the bagel store.  she'll get to play with them. i won't have to watch. but i do have to wait- by the phone for 'the call' that things aren't going well- or hear afterward about the stickiness- about her reaction to the stress of being around kids who are 11 and who get it. or maybe it will go well- or well enough.

the peace
where is it?  i'm not sure.  it comes sometimes.  when i can remember that it is what it is.  when i can embrace her as just zoe, not zoe in relation to everyone else.  when i can 'forgive' those around me for their normal lives.  when i can not stress about how she's doing down the street with three other girls her age.  when i can let it go and when i can be OK with her not fitting in exactly.  i'm not sure if the work is in accepting things, or lowering the expectations- or if the work is in being still in the awareness that it will always be hard.  that peace and joy come in many flavors. as does love.  that lives that are lived out differently are still beautiful and meaningful and passionate.  that hope isn't hope for her to live the 'normal' path- but to blossom on her own path.  that i will hurt her by feeling sorry, and i will grow strength in her by helping her carve her own, unique way. ahh, there's the peace.

there is more in that box than vegetables

i'm sitting out on the porch listening to the rain. i can smell it.  i love it. the day started out as my favorite type- the gray - closed sky - kind of day with blowing leaves and dusty colors that stand out. with a warm breeze and no direct sun. the kind of weather that holds you- that you can feel.  it makes me so happy. like little white lights and the smell of a bonfire on the beach and the color of the ocean before a storm and fireflies.

today is wednesday. the day of the vegetable box. and i'll admit it- it's beginning to stress me out.  today as i peeked in- hoping for no more green peppers- i saw a cabbage.  once again- a high maintenance vegetable with very little pay off.  i mean come on- if i'm going to be cooking something for a while that i first had to prepare for a while- it better be worth it- it better be something like chocolate.  the rest of the vegetables were covered in so much dirt that i needed to wash before i could identify. seriously.  and as i was washing- i think rutabaga and sweet potatoes- and beginning to resign myself to an afternoon of chopping and stirring- i heard a noise and then felt water at my feet.  sink leak. great.  so i abandoned my mission (after sticking the beets in to roast) and washed the kitchen floor- because what else are you going to do with water everywhere- OK- half the kitchen floor.

life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.  that's what my mom always says, and she's usually right.  and life right now is something that i 'm trying to relinquish control over.  i'm trying to let go.  i'm trying to not have a plan for everything- a reason for everything- to be in a place where something as beautiful and organic and life giving as a box of vegetables- doesn't cause anxiety.

and this is the paradox of my life.  things ruined by expectations.  i'm realizing that i'm wrought with unnecessary ideas and expectations.  by a moral hierarchy that i've created and then demand that i follow. and it's exhausting.  things such as not being able to do anything indoors if it's nice outside- because that would just not be right.  or being overwhelmed by a cabbage and a mess of peppers. feeling like if i don't learn to make slaw and pickle things i'm a bad person.  or trying to strap my daughter into a grade level, or hold her to a rigid schedule on a day when her brain is disconnected.  just let it go.  seriously.  that is where i want to be.

the days that i get there are so much smoother.  so much happier.

have you seen that commercial for nutri-grain bars? it's about starting the day right with healthy choices.  the idea being that if you start off right- it's easier to continue on the path of healthy eating. and healthy eating leads to being happier and so we should all just eat nutri-grain bars and things will be better.  no. kidding. but i get the idea. when i start of the day in a place of peace- a place of prayer- a place of how would God want me to live-a place of letting go-  it goes better.  i do make better choices (not about choosing cabbage over brownies) but about responding to life.

this week there was also honey in the box- at least that's what it looks like- but apparently there's even more - because each week i get a little lesson about living.

live a life less ordinary

last night i picked up my vegetable box from our local CSA.  that's community supported agriculture.  it was full of large leafy greens, many, many squash and about 20 green peppers.  i love it. i do. but it can be overwhelming.  and then i feel guilty.  what am i going to do with all this stuff- it's all so high maintenance. but since i'd committed to the entire season of the CSA box- i decided i'd better start cooking.

pretty soon i was back to the early '90's making a Moosewood-esque butternut squash soup- and some bacon-fat sauteed kale item. and i began to remember back to those early days before we had children.  when we were first married.  when we did cook almost every soup out of that Moosewood cookbook.  when we were still unwrapping wedding presents -like blenders- to make the soup.  when we listened to enya on tape and used empty wine bottles as candle holders and had tapestries on our walls.  (i guess actually not much has changed except the tapes). we were so young.  we had no money, but we had so much time.  unfortunately we didn't know it.  i so wish someone had told us.  we had 6 kid free years- with 20 year old bodies and energy- and we squandered it!  we probably worked too hard and studied too hard.  a typical night back then would seem like a date-night now.

the best thing we ever did was to borrow a few thousand dollars from my parents and go to europe for 6 weeks.  that was fantastic, not squandered time.  we stayed in cheap hotels, rented a cheap car and only went out for dinners.  we played cards, sketched, talked, looked at art and buildings,wrote in journals,  drank coffee and wine, probably smoked a few cigarettes  and read the same books out loud to each other outside on park benches.  in Prague we listened to Mozart in an upstairs room while it rained out on the square, in Assisi we spent all day at St. Francis's monastery walking through the woods he walked.  we soaked it in.  we lived in each moment. i love those memories.

so last night as i peeled the squash and riped the kale- i thought about life and expectations.  there is a line i love in Cutting For Stone, "life is lived forward but understood backwards".  so true.  you do the best you can. you can't hold on to things you once assumed or anticipated would come to be.  life changes us- we evolve. and if we don't evolve, life still changes us, but we're left holding onto old things.  then i wondered,  if life is super easy- if it does go according to plan-is it harder to break out of the routine- to live a life less ordinary? it might be pretty and secure and comfortable- but its it fun?  is it full?
i'm kind of used to things not going as planned.  i'm kind of used to things being out of the ordinary and i think it makes it easier to move outside of the lines- easier to dream - easier to take risks- because you've already lost what's 'normal'.  and maybe out of the chaos is the answer to why mike and i have such a hard time settling down- maybe as life bends us out of our expectations we evolve in a new way. in new places.

or maybe i just have a restless soul.

now what do do with all those peppers.........