Kids are people, too...and so much more...

I remember when I was about 12 an incident that ended up with me being grabbed by the shirt, slammed into a kitchen wall, smacked around and yelled at, by my dad, for wanting to wear my shirt tails untucked from my pants. This was the style at the time--mid 80s. I'm sure by then my dad was fed up with my appropriation of the "New Wave" look, a girl wearing silly skinny ties and chopping my hair on top more and more so it would spike better. The poor man probably didn't know what to think. I remember wanting a handcuff belt and it being totally forbidden, but it never being explained why I couldn't--or shouldn't--wear one. During the shirt-tail-wall-slam incident he expressed anger that I wanted to dress like a slob. This was somewhat confusing to me because we were a working-class, informal family. Looking back, maybe that's why it was so sensitive, he didn't want me looking like a working-class "slob"? But he was not one for putting on airs. I told him that that was "the look"--"casual". He flashed his dick in a fury and said, "Casual? I'll show you casual!" I think this might have been when mom stepped in. She wasn't a big stepper-inner.

Anyway, my dad is alright. He did some deplorable things, sure, but we've moved on and despite what some may think of the flashing incident, he wasn't sexually abusive, in my view. He never laid a hand on me in that way. I think his outburst was just pure dramatic frustration. I am sure he is very, very sorry.

But, it's not without reason that I still cry pretty much every time I hear the song "Daughters" by John Mayer. Say what you want about Mayer, but that is a great song. It makes me remember the things that went wrong for me growing up, it inspires me to not have these things go wrong with my own child...and, sadly, it makes me regret mistakes I have already made in just few short years of parenting. I can totally see why my dad lost his temper. Children can be really annoying. If you are not on your game, feeling in control, sure of yourself and your place in the world, it's probably easy to lash out at them for being annoying, seeming ungrateful or disrespectful. I remember my dad sometimes yelled at me and even spanked me for "my attitude". This was at age 10 or 11, and I remember really, truly not knowing what the hell he meant when he scolded me about "my attitude", so it wasn't like I was consciously being a smart ass to him. I guess he just interpreted it that way? This is something I never want to do with my child. I think it helps to always assume the best of people, maybe.

Challenges now, for me, are seemingly straightforward, including things like not wanting to pick up toys, not wanting to cooperate for bedtime preparation, or getting dressed or ready to go somewhere. Typically preschool "I'm flexing my independence" stuff. Overall, though, mine is a good girl, not malicious, not very sneaky (she has been known to hide in her room and give herself marker tattoos, which I have told her not to do before school). When I am feeling good, I take it all in stride, when I am not, sometimes I don't respond as I should. I know, though, that it is really on me and it's my job to be in control---not of her, but of my emotions and my reactions to her.

What about future challenges? I read some good posts on Babble the other day that relate to this. One is a mom's reflections on her own childhood, how she felt back then, and a reminder to herself that kids are people. They have their own feelings and desires and we should honor them as much as we can. This goes for teens, of course, and on down to the little ones. I think lots of people forget that babies, toddlers...they have feelings that we should honor. Maybe they don't feel like eating X today. Does it really matter so much if we cajole them to eat X as long as they generally eat well? Does it really matter if they don't want to take a nap? Maybe they aren't tired anymore. Of course, maybe they are and are just too wound up to know it, in which case mama has to do her best to set the stage and encourage the nap. But, I digress.

Another post loops back around to the issue of teen girls (or pre-teen in this case) and sexy clothes. The Babble post refers to a CNN blogger who comments that it is the parents' job to make sure their girls aren't dressed too sexy. The Babble post raises really interesting questions about who the onus is on---why is it so much on girls not to look too sexy but boys (and men!) are looked on as being unable to help what they think or do because of the way the girls are dressed? Nobody wants to dig into why girls may want to dress a certain way or not. It is some marketing, but it's not all marketing. There's their own feelings, their own explorations of who they are and what they want to be in the mix, but that is pushed back as a topic of discussion because what's most important seems to be making sure they aren't too sexually appealing or tempting to men.

My parents could have explained to me why I shouldn't be wearing a handcuff belt. I was 12, I think that's old enough to know. It's ugly, maybe, but it would have been a good teachable moment. In case you don't know why a 12 year old shouldn't wear a handcuff belt, I would say it's because it does very much have sexual overtones--the whole S&M association, and even worse, taking that association further to the fact that it would have been a child wearing that, you have the sickening issue of child trafficking and that whole mess. No wonder my dad was freaked the fuck out by this! But at that time, neither of my parents were college-educated, they were fairly young, as parents go, and I'm sure he just didn't have the nuts and bolts skills to talk to his 12 year old daughter about such things, so he just blew up in frustration. I understand. On the other hand, if he would have just treated me like a person, approaching me with some empathy, or pity, that I, as a child, had no idea what this was all about and yet here I was, in this culture, being exposed to things I didn't understand...I don't know if that takes a high level of education or just, really empathy and effort. I'm not here to judge the past, though, just to try and learn from it so I can take a cleaner path with my child.

So it's funny while concurrently pondering all this, I stumbled, too upon the catchy song "Teenage Dream." I like the song, and it revives in me happy, playful, lusty feelings for my husband, and I wonder how much the song is really for old people recapturing something, since it seems kind of to me the lyrics are best acted out by grown-ups. So, like, it would have to be an 18- or 19-year old teenage dream, at least...but then if it's just a "dream" I guess it's OK for younger ones to be dreaming of what they might do when they're older? Being a parent makes being a conscious pop-culture consumer tricky! In all this, though, I try to hold on to the idea that if I am compassionate and thoughtful and treat my daughter like a person, it might just all end up OK.

Photos and videos and just living life

There's a post over on Babble about whether or not parents are comfortable posting pics of their kids on the internet. I am kind of in the middle. It seems like with so many pictures of so many children out there, the evil pervs have millions to choose from and what are the odds they stalk me and mine. Also, I think I read somewhere that a majority of molestations, abductions and such are from people the victims actually know. As far as any virtual shenanigans that might be done with an image, well, after all, it's just an image, it's not the real person. And, besides all that, I have a sense that really bad and awful things won't happen to me. So, of course, I post pics of my kid on Facebook, now and then, and I used to even have a public, yet personal, blog detailing her milestones and growth as a baby. That kind of fizzled out around age two or two-and-a-half, though.

And that got me to thinking, oh no, I am not documenting my child's life anymore the way I used to! What am I missing? Cue mini anxiety attack! And this was while I was doing yoga, a time that I typically think about such pressing things as what I will have for breakfast, what deadlines I need to tackle today, if we'll have time to hit a playground, are my husband and I supposed to have sex tonight, what beer will we have with dinner...

And what about the baby book? Yeah, that kind of fizzled out, too. But that was my husband's domain. I am more of the electronic media virtual girl. It dawned on me I haven't transferred video from the camcorder (do people even use those anymore?) to DVD in a while. It's hard to keep up with all the work-for-pay work, reading, housekeeping and child-engaging I need to do, let alone be the family archivist. Then I got to thinking, the media will probably change over time and we won't even be using DVDs anymore. Uploading to the cloud may very well become the standard. But, what if the cloud blows up? That said, all the paper photos could burn up, be lost, or destroyed in some kind of natural disaster, too, of course. Nothing is forever!

Nothing is forever and so it seems pointless to worry about documenting a life when you should be living it, right? Right. I can live in the moment. I can really look, really pay attention to my child in the here and now. I can create memories and hold them in my heart, and my mind. But, but, but...what if I get dementia or Alzheimers when I am old? No. Remember? Bad things don't happen to me. So instead of sweating it too much, I am just going to do what I always do. Live my life, snap a few pics here and there, post them on Facebook and maybe print out a book once or twice a year. And really try to be in the moment.

Anxiety crisis averted.

Do I have a right to NOT play?

So I am sitting here, aching all over from yesterday's marathon. I just woke up. Haven't had breakfast, just drinking some water and surfing the web a little, waiting for the first pangs of hunger and the motivation to get back off of the couch before I eat something. I have already given my child her breakfast, of course, twice (two bowls of cereal, mixed kinds with milk, and juice...just like she asked for) and she is supposed to now just be playing around me, herself, while I interject words of interest here or there about what she is doing and engage, loosely in it all.

But no, the time of coasting has come to an end. I've had to comment favorably on her puppies that she's taking to the museum. I've had to ride to the museum, that was easy, I just sat on the sofa while she draped some beads on me as a "seatbelt so I can be safe." But now, we've arrived at the museum which means I have to get up and walk...somewhere...that she will pretend is the museum.

The thing is, I just don't want to! I want to just sit here for a few more minutes. I will play with her later, for sure I will. But, damn it, I am tired...and sore. I spent the whole night with her, as I sometimes do, cuddling on the futon on the floor. I know I'm a decent mom. So why do I have to play what she wants when she wants? Fact is, I don't. But she demands it and then cries when I don't. What do I do? It's infuriating. I tell her I'll play later. Not good enough. I tell her to go to her room until she can stop crying and be quiet. So that's what she does, saying to her stuffed dogs, "Sorry puppies" as she continues to cry.

The crying stops after a very short time, though, like less than minutes, maybe 2 minutes? And now I hear her "reading" aloud to her puppies, peacefully and quietly. Maybe now I am ready to play a little or engage, because the sound of her voice reading softly to herself and her pretend puppies is so sweet, and I realize that I've had my five minutes, I am not working or doing anything really important right now, and so why not go to her?

Thoughts on a very long run today

Today was a challenge.

I ran a marathon. My time was slower than I'd hoped. Probably slower than I could have done if I tried harder, now, looking back. But, I am happy. I am glad it's over so now I can just go back to running more normal distances and perhaps just enjoy running more without this big...event...or goal...looming before me.

I did not sleep well the night before the race. The hotel room made all kinds of weird mechanical sounds, as hotel rooms usually do. I am very sensitive to these buzzings, clickings, whooshings. I didn't want to wear earplugs, though, because I didn't want to miss the sound of my alarm. Also, wearing earplugs makes me feel too vulnerable. I'd want to be able to hear and wake up if something was wrong. In addition to that, husband was sniffling loudly, and what seemed to me to be obnoxiously, all. night. long. My kid tossed and turned and proclaimed she didn't love me for quite some time before falling asleep, only to wake up with a coughing fit around 4 am, proclaiming that, yes, she does love me. (This actually warmed my heart and I didn't mind. She is my baby, after all.) Then there was the dog's chains. Since husband was sniffling and stirring, he trusty sidekick was constantly on the alert as well. It was awful.

So, I headed out to do this race and I tried to keep a happy mood, or make a happy mood, this cold, cold morning, heading to the race start, in shorts, alone, in the dark. Standing around in the crowd, waiting for the inexplicably delayed start, a muscle in my back and neck out of nowhere tensed up. I figured, it's a long race, I'll just work through the pain.

I started the race uneventfully and slogged on through. People always pass me in droves at the beginning of these races. People I know I will pass at some point later. I am not the fastest, but I am good at pacing myself. My thing is I never, ever, spend it all. I always save something for the end. I've always got a little left. Today was no different. I seriously contemplated skipping out of this thing at the half-marathon point. I was tired from lack of sleep, feeling down, I just didn't see the point of going through all this. I though about how I could make a legitimate quick answer for people who asked how I did. I'd say, "Eh, I wasn't feeling well, so I decided to just make it a half." Thing is, people don't really do that. I knew I'd feel like a big loser if I did that, and I'd always have "that time I dropped out of the marathon halfway through." So, I told myself I could go as slow as I needed to in order to keep myself from feeling pain and from suffering too much. It's hard to conquer that thought process when you're still in the single digits...mile 7, 8, 9 and you just want to stop at 13. But, once you get to 13, you can tell yourself, "OK, I survived. I just have to do that, again, one time, and I'll be done." And that is just what I did.

I worked through alot of thoughts and emotions during those 26.2 miles today. I had alot of anger. I was angry at my family for keeping me awake. I was angry at my fellow man, my fellow runners in this race for lots of petty little things that didn't matter. They were wearing headphones. The rules explicitly said "NO HEADPHONES." They were senselessly chattering about useless and petty things. One young college-age girl was going on about what the problem with healthcare in America today was. Like she had it all figured out. Some conversations I eavesdropped were interesting, though, and helped keep me going by taking my mind of things for a bit. A woman was working for a medical device company developing some device for blown out knees. Another was a 1st grade teacher in the D.C. public school system. A man told of how he liked to move every 5 or 6 years because life got stale. Faster people passed me. Slower people fell behind me. People who didn't know pacing kept passing and kept later falling behind. And then there were the walkers. They'd walk, then run and catch up, then walk again. And on and on. My view is you don't walk. You run. Even if you run slowly like me. You run.

What I came to realize in this marathon is that I had to run my own race. Today's race. For me. The race I ran today was all about just keeping on as best as I could. I wasn't trying to hit any personal best. I wasn't trying to be a shining star athlete today. No. I was just basically trying to survive. It didn't hurt too much because I just didn't let it. And for me, that was a really fun and gratifying way to run the race today. I enjoyed seeing how slow I could go without being ridiculous, but while not really being in pain or pushing. I never really was winded or breathing hard. It's the bones and muscles of my body that ached. I couldn't help but think, again, just like I did on so many of my training runs, that all this would be easier if I lost a little weight.

I became re-acquainted with the fact that there are many ways to do things. I know this from graphic design and art applications. There are often many ways to accomplish the same goal, different tools to use, different techniques, to do the same thing. Same for running, same for life. For me today, the tools for finishing the race were just to go slow and steady and keep on keepin' on. For someone else, it was different. Today may have been there day to go faster. They may always be faster, or they may someday decide that being fast wasn't what interested them that day. Like me today. I learned that it is much more relaxing and freeing and pleasing to let go of thoughts that dictate something's got to be done a certain way.

One reason I didn't quit at the half was just purely because I had no definite place to go or thing to do. My husband and kid would be out getting bagels or at a playground, waiting to meet me at the end of the marathon, a couple hours later. I thought maybe I could just go back to the hotel room and sleep. But they would be there. I loved them, but I was still annoyed with them. I needed to be alone (albeit in a crowd of runners) for a while longer. I needed to think more. I thought about how I just want to be nice and loving to my family. I thought about how marathons are alot like life. You have good days. You have bad days. There will always be people "better" than you and there will always be people "worse." You just have to know yourself, your pace, what you can do, and sometimes push and sometimes don't, but you have to know yourself enough to know when to do which.

It was really freeing to be able to take the relaxed approach I took to the marathon today. Made me think I could try fighting less and resisting less in day to day life, as well, especially dealings with my preschooler, and to some extent my husband and the whole world.

Soooo NOT awkward, and more on playdates

Well, I survived the pool playdate and let me tell you, it was not awkward at all. First of all, there were lots of little kids and moms at the pool. I will say very few moms were actually in the pool. Most sat on the sidelines fully dressed. I think many of them had kids in an actual swimming class. As for us, well, we just chatted and the conversation totally flowed. The girls splashed around, we interacted with them, but did a fair share of talking amongst ourselves, actually. It was good to be in the water and have my body shielded a little that way, hee hee. I can't believe I was ever so weirded out by the idea. Not that I am in a hurry to do it again. I like swimming laps and going to the beach, but I am not that big on just hanging out in a pool, especially an indoor pool.

Of course, I told my husband about our day, and he said, "Oh, who's idea was that?" I told him it was the dad's idea, but quickly reminded my husband of our many trips to nude beaches, our honeymoon stint at a nude town in France, and his general propensity toward licentiousness, and he left it alone. Still, I can see how he'd be a little "bleh" about having to go to work in an office all day while I was at a pool socializing with Mr. Mom. At the end of the day, though, he didn't care much one way or the other.

I have to say, I kind of enjoy socializing with this dad more than I have with most moms as far as parents of kids my kid has done playdates with. Nothing bad about the moms, but you know, in my 20s, most of my friends were guys. I think it's just that lots of time guys are more easygoing, the talk seemed to flow very quickly beyond parenting and kids to our participation in sports, to world events, and more. But of course, this is just a very small sample size and just one and a half interactions.

My kid had a playdate with this guy's kid once before where she came over to our house to play and I gotta say, that was the best of all because I didn't have to talk to even him for very long. My kid had specifically asked me to invite this other child over and so I made the gestures. I found out her mom was being deployed to Afghanistan and the dad was going to be the primary with the kids for a while, so I'd have to deal with him. I told him, when making the invitation for the playdate that he would be welcome to just drop his kid off and let her play here while he went and ran errands or did whatever he wanted, if he didn't feel like sitting around coffee klatching with a mom (me). I said, maybe he'd hang out for a while, get a feel for our home, make sure it was safe for his kid, she was comfortable here and all that, then go on his way if he felt comfortable with it. And that's just what happened. And those are the playdates I prefer. My kid has a friend over, they play, I work, read, hang out and supervise from afar, minimally, rather than having to make conversation with a parent I may or may not have much in common with for hours.

Of course, I have my own friends and some happen to be parents, so it's not that I don't want to hang out at all, it's just cool that when kids start getting older they can have their own friends and their own playdates and we're moving away from the "mommies club" kind of thing.

AWKward!?

It's about an hour before we're due for a swim playdate. I'm not entirely looking forward to it. OK, I wish I didn't have to do it. It's early March and I know it's an indoor, heated pool, but I also know I am probably going to be cold. I like swimming laps, but I don't really like just hanging around in the water, indoors, at the county rec center pool. So, why did I agree to this playdate? I wanted to be a good egg. I wanted to say "yes" to someone. This someone, though, is a dad, so on top of being cold and wet, I am going to be worried about what I look like in a bathing suit.

I'm not fat. I'm training for a marathon. I lift weights regularly. I look fine. Not bikini model material, but a healthy, athletic almost-40-year-old woman. So, why do I feel like this is going to be awkward? Maybe I'd feel less awkward if I was straight-up overweight, with no potential for attraction? Why did I not mention it to my husband? Why do I feel guilty and weird? I am not a prude at all. I am not attracted to this man—at all. And yet, I feel weird. A little. I am guessing my hairy legs and underarms will put him off enough to not see me that way.

I feel like if this were outside at the neighborhood pool it would be less awkward. It would be summer time. There would be other moms, dads and kids around. But, here, still in winter at the rec center, it's likely it might just be me and him and our girls. Maybe not. We'll see. Although he did say when suggesting this playdate that it will be nice for his kid to have someone else to play with since it's usually just her.

So, will we be sitting there having a conversation, in our swimsuits, under the cold, grey lights of this indoor pool while they girls play? (They are too little, at 3, to be in the water themselves, with us on the sidelines, I'd say). Or, will the girls occupy enough of the time and activity that we won't have to interact that much?

I was up late reading last night and sort of couldn't go to bed because I was wondering about all these things. Again, why did I just go along with this playdate idea, even though I thought maybe it was a little odd? I wanted to be easygoing. Go along with it. It would be weird for me to feel funny about being in a bathing suit and having to talk to some man. I shouldn't feel funny, should I? I shouldn't wonder about what he thinks of me in a swimsuit. That is vain and weird, and of course not what what this is all about. Part of me didn't mention it to my husband because I don't know if he would think it is weirder for me to do the playdate or weirder that I would have all this ambivalence about it. I know I can't coach my daughter to not talk about it, or lie, that would be going too far. But still, I hope we do enough other things after that she doesn't mention it. She probably will, though.

I'll report back post-pool playdate and let you know what happens.

I walk the line: the challenges of being progressive but with ‘old-fashioned’ values

I signed the Planned Parenthood online petition this past week, both times, once before the House passed their measure to cut its funding and the other, after, when PP was looking to let the Senate know they should not cut funding. I saw alot of different discussions about this and other related issues online, and knew which side I was on for the most part in these discussions.

The MoveOn.org link, too, was valuable, in outlining several the “Top 10 Shocking Attacks from the GOP’s War on Women,” although I am sure they (the Republicans) don’t see it as such and I honestly really don’t understand the Republican motive behind all this. Do they think they can shame people into what they feel is appropriate behavior? Do they think women go out looking to land in a spot where they need an abortion? Most of the things on the 10-point list are obvious, no-brainers that any progressive can get behind opposing.

But, I would feel a little disingenuous if I did not say something about what what I really think of point 6 on MoveOn’s list:

6) Maryland Republicans ended all county money for a low-income kids’ preschool program. Why? No need, they said. Women should really be home with the kids, not out working. {emphasis theirs}

Let me just first say that at the end of the day, I still support what MoveOn is driving at—that is, not pulling funding from low-income kids’ preschool programs. I get that. They’re low income. Further, I think that by simply raising taxes on the rich (I, too, though not “rich” would be willing to pay more) and then people just being a little more efficient and earnest in how they manage these funds, many of the budget problems would likely be solved, or at least it would help.

My problem, though, is the way MoveOn phrases it, as though it is a preposterously wrong idea that “Women should really be home with the kids, not out working”—wrong on the same level of Republicans allowing women to die rather than allow them an abortion, or on the level of changing the legal definition of rape, or on the level of making it legal to kill abortion providers.

I just don’t think the idea that mothers of small children should be home with their kids is really so wrong. It is idealistic, to be sure, in today’s world, but, it is not wrong. In fact, I think it is very much right. I think more people who can actually afford it should do this. I’m not saying women should not work, ever, I’m just saying that I really do believe it is better, most especially for infants, for them to be at home with their mothers and to slowly ramp the children up for full days at school over the 5-6 year early childhood stage. I do not think it is ideal for infants to be in day care centers or for toddlers or preschoolers to attend all day programs. I’ll provide a link here to some more thoughts on this including scholarly citations on the subject, though, as is the case with “proving” breastfeeding is the right thing to do, I do dare say that it seems to me to be common sense that small children, new to the world, need not be exposed to the fray of a group dynamic under the care of paid workers for extended periods of time. But, I digress.

To paraphrase a great thinker (cough cough…not really…but the sentiment works in what I am getting at there) we have to deal with the world we live in NOW not the world we want, or how we hope the world will someday be. Sure, I want a world where all mothers can afford to stay home with their infants, then send them to preschool for a few hours a week at age 3 or so, then enroll them in Kindergarten and be there at 3 pm to ask how their day was. However, I am a realist and I understand that that is NOT the world we live in right now. Therefore, we need to try and help out the best we can, which might mean, yes, funding full day preschools for low income kids. It also might mean subsidizing low income mothers staying home with their infants or preschoolers, or maybe attending classes part time, if they hit a set of targets ensuring they’re doing right by the kids and the system and not squandering the benefit.

I also understand that even among those who have a little money, with good jobs, mothers often choose to work because of a need for the healthcare benefits associated with their jobs. Another common scenario are the professionals who have to both work because their student loan payments are so high. Fixing both of these issues by bringing America more in line with other industrialized countries that do not tie healthcare to employment and that have much more reasonable systems of higher education would definitely allow more parents to do better by their young children.

I guess I am just dismayed that the progressives, with whom I share many values, think that what I believe to be ideal for children is wrong or somehow laughable or outrageous. But, the alternative—not supporting Planned Parenthood or MoveOn and allowing the attacks on women and children the Republicans are trying to pull—isn’t really an option for me either.