Up, up, and sobs

Perhaps it's the conservative old-fashioned Waldorf upbringing or the multitude of articles my mom sent me when my kids were newborns about the ill effects of media on our children, but I'm pretty protective about what my kids watch. Sure, my kids see a bit of tv and movies and have a few minutes each week on the computer, after all, it is a modern world, but I'm very careful and selective so I don't damage their young impressionable innocent minds. I try not to judge others that are more free and less censured with media around their children, but sometimes, well, I cringe and bite my tongue so I don't go into some holier than thou lecture. I never want to be one of those moms. Yikes.

After a week full of fabulous playdates at our home, we need to get out but I don't have it in me for much effort. After a terribly stressful morning trying to get an impossible last minute report done for my managers, and a fort filled home that I wanted to avoid doing cleanup on, I decide that going to see the movie Up was the perfect thing to do. In my mind, we buy ticket, sit down, escape for almost two hours (no fighting, no messes, no energy), and leave with the satisfaction of enjoying a great movie like the rest of regular society. Although, major cringe here, it's PG movie, but after rave reviews from many fellow moms, I feel confident in my choice and go for it.

Big mistake. I gear up for the expected bittersweet montage of the old couple's life together, then her death. I heard EVERYONE cries at that one. It is beautiful. I wipe a few tears. My kids? Nothing. They don't even know what happened. Then the balloon house in the thunderstorm? The beginning of the end. Now, I don't know if Talia has a delayed reaction to the sad basis for the movie, but she does not stop crying and clutching my arm. SOBBING. What is she upset about? She feels scared that the little boy will never find his way back home from being so lost. She cannot be consoled. Quinn keeps asking me in an upset voice "when will this movie be over???". Brutal. Conflicting. But, ultimately I must to do the right thing for my kids and leave the movie theater.

Maybe by leaving and ending their (our) misery I can earn a few good mommy points to begin to make up for the huge deduction of bad mommy points for traumatizing my children, hopefully not for life. Thank goodness my wonderful friend Amy was home and open for a happy happy joy joy impromptu playdate and her bartender, uh hum, gracious husband, was serving fresh mojitos to help melt away the bad mojo from our dreadful movie experience.

Lesson here? There is a reason why I keep my kids away from most "kid" movies that come out - the majority of them are really geared toward adults and the lowest common denominator. My children, especially Talia, still don't like watching movies where children or animals are in peril or lost, even now that she is almost six. My mistake for thinking she grew out of that. But, I'm glad that they are not numb or desensitized to bad things that happen in movies (people/animals getting hurt is not funny!). What a good reminder that although they seem to be maturing more every day, they are still very young and need more support than ever before. Their world is getting bigger and scarier and intense. They will grow to understand that in time.

For now, they have to learn how to deal with difficult stuff and it's my task as parent to teach them coping skills, like thinking about ice cream or swimming at Grandma's or their friends when they can't stop being sad or upset. So, while I'm trying to get the very bad mommy image out of my head of traumatized children in the movie theater, I find solace in my tall glass of Merlot and my big bowl of Waffle Cone Overload ice cream, daydreaming about my brunch at the beach on Sunday. I'm slowly recovering from the guilt and being totally emotionally drained, and those goodies certainly are helping.

Celebrating independence

For the previous five years, our family celebrated the 4th of July Independence Day with, umm, not much. We stay at home, maybe a barbecued dinner, and get annoyed at the unfriendly neighbor across the street that does his own (illegal) fireworks show way into the late hours of the night. Well, actually anything past 7pm is late for us because it might wake our early-to-bed sleeping babies!

So, are you sitting down? This year we decided to be the wild and crazy people and venture out of the house and see fireworks in person. Imagine that?! I know. I know. How did this happen? Next I'll be writing about painting my toenails neon green and drinking caffeine past 4pm! Crazy. So, here's the scoop: my friend Rosanna bought a ton of tickets to the Hollywood Bowl, and, get this, took the chance that she could convince enough friends to buy them and join her. Risk taker, that girl. Anyway, we got the last four tickets (yep, meant to be) and bragged to all that would hear that we were going to the Bowl for 4th of July 'cause we are soooooo hip and awesome. I'm certain they were all cursing at us from like total jealousy.

Once the day finally came (the kids were wacked out all day in anticipation), we packed a yummy dinner, took the easy shuttle bus, and joined my friend and her fun group at the best picnic area there (Rosanna did the mad dash to the top of the hill - my hero!). Later, once we got to our seats, we listened to the LA Philharmonic play popular songs by great American composers and that's where I heard the cutest quote of the night from famous for his great one-liners Quinn: "I just heard the music slow down in tempo". Who says their minds go to mush in the summer?!

But, the biggest surprise of the night was when Dan Fogerty rocked out his set. My usually reserved and observant non-participators almost six-year-olds danced and jumped and wiggled and played air guitar and pumped their fists to every rock-n-roll song. Me and my man kept looking at each other like "who are these children and how do they know to do that???". Of all the kid shows they've gone to, I've never seen them enjoying themselves like that. There was no one around us dancing to explain this sudden burst of expression. Neither one of their parents are know for gettin' down with our boogie. It was like they were possessed by the music and they just had to dance and be free and had absolutely no inhibitions about it. I even grabbed Talia's hips and pushed her down to her seat a few times to test her, and she just bounced right back up into shaking her booty. Honestly, I still can't get over it.

The only explanation I can think of is simply their age of almost six. The last few months of school they came home with lots more scraps and bruises, and even their teacher commented that they are taking more chances and risks. Of course this makes me a little uneasy, but it's comforting to know it's completely appropriate and healthy for their age and all a part of detaching, gaining more independence, and becoming their own person. But, as much as they seem to be maturing and growing at lightening speed, it's nice to see that they are still just young kids, without a silly worry that people will think their exhuberance and dancing is stupid or lame and how much they can still be so much in the moment. I guess the best I can do is encourage and support them, sit back, and, like the fireworks, watch with sheer delight and awe.

Summer with a cherry on top

This summer I plan on doing a regular outing every Thursday that is different and fun and in nature. Maybe it's a new place or maybe an old favorite. Either way, I will plan the itinerary and invite a bunch of friends with kids and hope for the best. I made a promise to myself to practice having the mentality that it is 75% about me and my kids and 25% about sharing the fun with friends. I want to avoid allowing myself to be even remotely disappointed if no one else joins us but rather pleasantly surprised if anyone does. It's definitely a fine line between being selfish or thinking about others. After all, there is a big thrill to be had in seeing the joy of the moment that I had a little hand in helping make happen. Maybe that's why I love and excel at being an organizer.

I managed to convince two other moms to drive about fifty miles to a cherry farm to pick fresh cherries. I picked cherries once as a child and remember fond memories about my experience and wanted to share the same with my own children...and good friends, too, of course. The farm seemed waaaaaaaaaay out there...far away from any place any of us knew. I dreaded the worst of complaints but instead saw happy eager faces ready for something new and different like me. One of my friends did admit, though, that the drive to such an unknown destination was a bit out of her comfort zone, but I totally sensed a willingness for adventure and a chance to change the limits of that comfort zone.

I totally understand that feeling. Three years ago or so I felt the same way. I made excuses why I wouldn't go, like it being too far, too weird, too whatever. But, with the help of a few (what I considered) adventurous friends, I made a conscious effort to push myself past that fear and instead welcome the opportunity to broaden my horizons and step more and more out of my comfort zone. As a result, not only did I discover some wonderful places that I had no idea existed near where I live (and have lived my whole life), but it actually changed me as a person. The more I did it, the less I was afraid and the more daring I got. I'm not exactly jumping out of airplanes, but I certainly make less excuses and take more action. I no longer label myself as the one that doesn't do something unless I over-analyze it and consider all of the consequences. I am finally a do-er and it feels great.

This is all weird for me because I find myself in the position to lead the way for others to take the daring plunge, too. It's a strange feeling when you label yourself for so many years a certain way, then turn around and can no longer claim that comfortable distinction. Where once I turned down a group trip to pick apples an hour away or hunt for owl pellets in an area that I didn't know, I'm now the leader encouraging others to follow me in my adventures.

Today while we were picking and, uh hum, sampling the cherries, I had a few quiet times where I looked up at the trees and clear blue sky and marveled at the absolute beauty of the cherries and the near perfect moment. Honestly, it was heavenly and I felt completely in my element and well within my comfort zone. I didn't care that my kids were dirty and covered in cherry juice or even worry about the "long" drive home or if anyone else was having a good time. It simply felt peaceful to be there just in that moment. I actually felt like it was a shame that everyone else wouldn't want to be there enjoying the time like we were, where a few years ago others probably thought the same thing about my reluctance to join them. I totally understand because I've been there, but damn it feels great to be on the other side.

Grasshopper

The day after school ended, we surprised our two kindergarten graduates with a much needed vacation to the local mountains of Big Bear. The first year of school took a big toll on all our lives, mainly from the way-too-long days, the social angst, annoying habits they picked up ("awesoooome!") and major life changes we endured. We went from tons of time in nature to way too much time indoors. So ya, we desperately needed to regroup, be free to just be, and say goodbye to school and hello to summer.

We each had different moments when we let go of our routine home life and embraced being away from it all. For Quinn, my nature boy, it was pretty immediate -his first step out of the city and he was all smiles. My daughter, Talia, who's world revolves around the people she loves and knows (she's an over-thinker like her mom), finally relaxed after I found it necessary to talk (plead with her for my own sanity) to her about not mentioning school anymore. I hear from many frustrated parents that they never hear a single thing about school from their kids, but my daughter more than makes up for that. Daily details of who did/said what in class permeated our lives. When she mentioned a classmate that sadly had to go to after-care like it was in the present day, I realized enough was enough. I explained that school was done now. That school was our lives up until Wednesday, and now it is summer. School is over. Summer is now. Let…it…go. No mas. She can talk about a fun day at the beach with her friends or swimming at grandmas, but no more so-and-so in school ordered pizza for lunch two weeks ago or that mean bully hurt her feelings. In a moment of inspiration, I came up with the code word “grasshopper” as a reminder signal to stop talking about school and to change the subject. After a few practice runs, she never mentioned school again. Whew! As for me, my stress melted away the after getting my feet wet in the refreshing cool stream near the waterfall we hiked to on the second day. For my man it was after he found the perfect campground for his annual guys (drink beer, fart, and be manly men) camping trip. After we were all on the same page, we were full of smiles and tons of silly.

After my anxiety washed away, it got me thinking. That “grasshopper” conversation the day before – it was so symbolic of what our getaway was all about. Our day-to-day lives end up being so much about either the past or the future but not enough about the present. We end up with too many “have to’s” and "shoulds" and hardly any time for just being in the moment. For instance, about 95% of all of our television watching is recorded on our dvr. We watch a show that was on two days ago and fast forward through it. In Big Bear we watched huge gray squirrels play outside and the neat coyote walk down the road next to our car on the way to go fishing. With school it was about remembering (forgetting) to sign permission slips for field trips the next day and planning for important school events weeks away. During our vacation we focused on not tipping over the canoe and marveling at the beautiful scenery. At home we get anxious constantly hearing about the dismal and dire state budget news and the drastic cuts to services and schools, but in the mountains we didn't hear about any of that, only news of an excellent trail to hike and how to get there.I'm certainly not claiming that I didn't think at all about the future, like daydreaming about owning our very own cabin in the mountains (heck, I even bought a lottery ticket while we were there) or the responsibilities awaiting at home, but as a whole I think I did pretty well. Now that I'm home, I try to remain relaxed about the piles of laundry to do and vacation items to put away and the bills to pay. One load at a time, right? I'm certain that the combination of (mostly) being in the moment for four days in nature does wonders for the soul and is as necessary as eating healthy, annual check-ups, and a regular girls night out on the town.

So, while I sit here in the present enjoying my glass of red wine and favorite honeycomb candy that I bought a few days ago in Big Bear, I am also thinking about my fun plans for the week and future vacations during the summer. In one moment I can be in the present, past, and future and feel totally fine with it. It's all about a happy balance, you know?

A rosey perspective

The end of the school year is on my mind. My plans are to relish these last few days of relative freedom and take full advantage of my precious time alone to check off items on my list of things to do and run various errands (places that are much better without two kids in tow). So, yesterday after I did some work and cleaning, I head out get a few things done before I pick up the kids. I make it to the post office to mail a package that's been sitting in my car for a ridiculous two months. Done. Whoohoo! Next up, Trader Joe's to buy some much needed items. I am on a roll! Then it happens - my cell phone rings. It's school. Uh oh. Quinn has a fever and feels yucky. Darnit. DARNIT!!!!! I reroute and head for the school. So much for my ambitious plans.

Silly me for thinking I was in charge. Life, especially parenting life, likes to make it's own plans with or without our blessings. I have no choice but to surrender and make the most of it. This morning after I waive goodbye to Talia who is being taken to school by my more-than-willing-to-help-out mom since Quinn is not going to school, I slowly walk up to my front door and on the way I literally stop and smell my blooming roses. Gorgeous and instant mood lifter. I announce to myself and the family of snails "I'm going to cut some roses!" and bring in three different amazing smelling and brightly colored gems.

So, while I rotate between taking care of my sick child, my current difficult puzzle (tons and tons of sky!), and work on my laptop at the table, I smile at and smell my beautiful roses and feel totally relaxed and calm. Unlike my girlfriend who only recently was able to take her adorable baby daughter in public after being confined to home for the first seven months of her life (she's fine and thriving now thank goodness), this is only temporary. It's actually a blessing in a weird way. It's humbling and makes me feel grateful. How lucky I am to be so easily available for my relatively healthy children when they need me the most. I am reminded that I don't have much control over things and how good it feels to surrender. And those lovely roses that are all mine and there for my enjoyment for months and months each year - I sure love them. On the other hand, if I get this latest round of whatever this sickness is, I won't be singing such a happy smelling tune. Humm, maybe I'll just go ahead and join my loudly snoring child for a little afternoon shut-eye myself. Zzzzz.....

Looking toward summer

Maybe it's all this annual seemingly endless June gloom - the cool overcast mornings that teases bits of sunlight all day. Or, perhaps it's these last few weeks in the school year that have tested my last nerves because my kids (and most of the kids in their classroom) are all out of whack and anxious and have too much pent up energy and are forgetting to be respectful people and my very own sweet kids fight more and more each day and mimic other classmates who aren't so nice and I've just about had it! So, ya, I am beyond ready for summer break for all of the above reasons...and more.

I am well aware of the term "Be careful what you wish for" and in a few weeks I might be going out of my mind trying to keep my kids occupied and sane. Plus, I'm used to having over 6 hours a day to do as I please and I love my new found freedom. But, there is definitely something to be said about getting grounded again - being less restricted all day and the feeling of freedom to explore in the great outdoors and focusing more on themselves and our family rather than a classroom full of mixed personalities and moods and rules. Don't get me wrong, I am not putting down school or the other classmates. This first school year was wonderful. But for my two young children who spent the first five years of their lives mostly outdoors or doing calm quiet activities and around a few close buddies, this whole 6.5 hours a day five days a week thing was a complete change in lifestyle and view of the world. They not only learned how to read, multiply, and recite the food pyramid, but also the names of all of the Transformers and expressions like 'what tha?', 'naner-naner pants on fire', and 'stupidhead'. A classic school education indeed!

While my ideas about the summer include lots of swimming, beach, sun, hikes, favorite places that we miss, new places to explore, visiting with old and new friends, and easy going days with no plans at all, I am also aware that it will never be like it was before school came into our lives. My children are still the same wonderful people that I love, but a lot different, too. Not only do they look more mature and are a few inches taller (our food bill seemed to double - yikes!), but their small world is no longer just about what I want for them. They have stronger opinions, moods, emotions, and preferences that I don't always agree with, but that's what is supposed to happen, right?

I'm honestly a little worried that I won't be able to cut it anymore. Will I go out of my mind from lack of personal freedom that I'm accustomed to now? Can I keep their days interesting and fun? Am I being way too hard on myself and over thinking things? Like I said to Talia the other night when she was crying that she will miss school and her friends, I'm guessing she will be crying when it's time to go back to school because of all the fun she will have this summer. Maybe, just maybe, it will be better than ever because we will now appreciate those places and activities and friends that we miss so much. I think it's better to remind myself of the expression "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" which might help dissolve those insecurities and instead make me feel hopeful...and a little excited. Oh, now I can't wait!

Should I stay or should I go now?

You know sometimes when you find yourself surrounded by similar situations and conversations and wonder if there is a message in all of it? This week I heard firsthand about two dramatically different personal stories from two girlfriends. In both cases, each friend has a husband that a experienced a major dramatic life changing crisis resulting from unresolved issues or new revelations. One friend chose to stay with her husband while the other chose to leave him. For each story, I can understand wanting to leave and I can understand the desire to help their partner through their crisis. It could totally go either way. I feel no judgment about their decisions and there is no right or wrong here. So, what makes the difference between leaving and staying? At what point does your overwhelming misery and unhappiness override the "for better or for worse" vows?

It is obvious that my girlfriends deeply love their husbands and regardless of whether they stay or leave it is very painful and heartbreaking for them to face. When I think about my two friends and their situations, I can't help but wonder what made the difference? Both men are good people with big hearts who are going through a tough time and both women are strong, smart, and caring. Is it their family culture, experiences, and support? Personal needs or limitations? Financial security or fear? Their partner's willingness to get help? There is obviously no simple answer. Life is extremely complicated.

When I was in my early twenties, things were more black and white. I went through a few important relationships - I made hard choices about boyfriends and toxic friendships with no regrets. I did what I felt was best at the time. I remember thinking that a deal-breaker in a marriage would be infidelity. I thought I could tolerate many things, but if my husband cheated on me that would be it - the absolute worst. Without hesitation it would be goodbye cheater and hello singlehood! I could never trust him again and would never forgive that violation of our vows. Only, well, now that I'm approaching twelve years of marriage and have two children and a good life together and hopeful future, I'm not sure I would choose to walk away from that without a fight. The world as I see it is no longer so black and white, but mostly different shades of gray. Would I be really really pissed and hurt if I found out my husband cheated on me? Of course I would be. But, honestly, I just don't know how I would react or what I would do. It's more than just the two of us now and I no longer view divorce in the same way. I'm not saying "hey, go out and cheat on me because I'll still stay with you", but realize it's much more complex than I ever imagined.

One thing I know for sure is that you just never know what life will throw your way and how you will handle it. Many years ago a friend of mine was getting divorced and someone said to her "That will never happen to me" and I remember how much my friend was hurt by those words. I don't know if it's karma or life being what it is, but that same person who hurt my friend is now teetering on the edge of going through the same thing herself.

I also know that when someone I care about is going through a difficult time, in most cases they don't want you to tell them what to do, but instead need to feel loved, supported, listened to, and not judged. And, now that I realize this, I do my best to treat people who are struggling with that basic courtesy and care. I can only hope that when it's inevitably my turn to be in a rough life situation, that my loved ones will treat me the same way.

Big little bits

My daughter, the budding young photographer in training, took this picture of me wearing my new necklace that I got in the mail today. I could not resist ordering it from this new organization run by local women called 31 Bits.

Now, don't get me wrong, I really really really dislike it when do-gooders brag about their do-gooding to make us all feel inadequate and not as saint-like as them. But, in this case I'll just pretend that there was nothing philanthropic in my mind about buying this jewelry for my oh-so selfish self. Forget the fact that it's handmade from recycled paper by creative women in Uganda. I only see the flawless workmanship and beautiful color that will look great with so many of my outfits. The fact that my single purchase helps aid these spirited women in this war-torn country racked with endemic poverty is just bonus. Feeding children, providing schooling, access to proper health care, and hope for a better future? Well, ya, I guess that's kind of worthwhile. Wait wait, I mean, it's worthwhile to update my wardrobe, and, ya, might have to check out that pretty long green one soon...

Recipes from the heart

I just love a good recipe. I clipped this most excellent cookie recipe from the local newspaper years ago when it featured First Lady cookie recipes. Since then I’ve gone back to this recipe dozens of times and it’s never disappointed. In fact, people often ask for the recipe and I’m happy to share. I consider it the best thing to come out of the last Presidential administration and it's my favorite to bake (and eat) by far.

We all have our own favorite recipes, whether it’s for traditional lasagna or the perfect bowl of cereal (hey, no judgments here). As I get older and more confident, I find myself experimenting more with food and relying less on recipes and more on my creativity. Believe me, I’m no Julia Childs, and am actually kind of insecure about my cooking when it comes to cooking for people other than my immediate family. My chef hang-up has no basis because I’ve mostly avoided any major casualties, other than the horrible manicotti incident of 2004. I still cringe just thinking about it.

I got this fantastic chicken recipe from an amazing Italian chef and good friend and it’s always a hit.
She created her own recipe after enjoying this yummy cheesy mushroomy dish at a local restaurant. Ya, she’s talented like that. She also makes a killer eggplant Parmesan and tiramisu. I like her as a person and all, but damn her food is worth sticking around for after all these years!

I can’t forget my world famous Friday pancake recipe (excellent with the addition of a handful of chocolate chips):
When my grandmother was still alive, she gave me an early inheritance of her recipe cards and cookbooks. Wow, lots of jello recipes! She said that she was too tired to cook much anymore and her tried-and-true dishes she knew by heart. I’m sad that I don’t have her recipe for stuffed cabbage rolls, but luckily I have the one for her legendary Harvey Wallbanger cake. Galliano isn’t cheap, but it’s well worth it when it comes to this cake.
I wonder when my children are older if they will covet any of my recipes? Will they want to fill their own homes with comforting smells of my “famous” dishes? So far it’s hard to tell – one week they like something and the next week it’s just too “boring” or “spicy” or “weird” or “don’t you remember I don’t like tomato sauce anymore?!?”. Maybe they will make more of an emotional connection to my cooking when they are older. I sure hope so.

A welcome bloom

Turns out, this Memorial holiday weekend was not about fun social festivities as planned but all about me basically sleeping it away, dragged down by the latest cold bug that's going around. I've been a virtual shut-in for days, only going outside to sit in the sun for some vitamin-D and to get the mail. Ooooh! Exciting!

I try to keep up with the latest world and local news (thank goodness for my computer!), but it's been all over the place and controversial. There is an inspiring Hispanic female being nominated to the Supreme Court of the United States (yipppeee!!), Proposition 8 being upheld in California that changes the constitution regarding who qualifies for marriage (don't give up the fight!), or that really really annoying couple on that cable show with eight exploited kids who are exploiting a horrible marriage situation for ratings and blood money. Oh oh, and California is so broke that it cannot pay for anything of any value anymore. Hello, soooo done with this recession already!

So, deep down in there amid my congestion, sore throat, massive headache, and concerned mind, I manage to spot a few things that put a smile on my face and help me forget about all my worries. Like this flower for instance. It's in our front yard and for weeks we wondered what would come of this weird thing growing out of this plant that I have no idea what it's called. It bloomed into this amazing flower cluster, with purple canopies and delicate while flowers. This plant is right near my front porch for over two years and I had no idea it was capable of such beauty. It's just so unexpected and, well, really neat!

Call me a plant geek, I don't care. But, right now as I'm still feeling kind of crappy and now my sweet husband is going down for the count (it's inevitable), this spectacular flower (and three more baby ones growing now - yea!) adds a little bit of aaaah to a pretty blaaah kind of week.

The Fear

It's Friday night. I'm at a local bar with four fabulous friends appreciating a much anticipated long overdue Girl's Night Out. We spend the evening at the bar's patio listening to a small guitar band play classic rock n' roll hits while enjoying many drinks, appetizers, and laughs. Yep, we really needed it and we all show a renewed sense of relaxation and contentment on our pretty smiling faces. Yea for gettin’ out as moms and girlfriends without the kids!!!

Sadly, the night comes to an end, and we pile in the carpool car and head home. Funny thing, though, my tummy isn’t feeling so well. It’s rumbling. Protesting. Was it all the fried food that I’m not used to eating? Something that didn’t agree with me? Hummm… I wonder if I should say something and sprint back into the bar and head straight for the restroom, only the restroom has this talkative eighty year old woman sitting in there handing out paper towels and lotion for tips. Not good. So, I take a deep breath and hope for the best. Only, well, and this is really embarrassing, I emit an odor that’s umm, not so pleasant. My lovely friend in the back seat with me discretely opens her window and I stare out my window in horror at myself as I grab in vain for my elusive window button. She puts her hand on my knee and calmly says “Oh, you are so quiet sweetie, are you okay?” and I’m all “uh huh” but secretly thinking “OMG! Will I be able to make it home without a massive explosion in the backseat?” Then I ride the roller coaster of feeling okay, then not okay, okay, then not okay despite my efforts to concentrate on something other then the urgency of my desperate bowel situation. My stomach protests as we drive on to the freeway and again, my tactful friend rolls her window down without saying a word. This time I fess up and say “I’m so sorry, I think that’s me and I’m feeling that my tummy isn’t doing so well and I probably should find a restroom…very…soon.” Without hesitation, my friend that’s driving heads for the nearest off-ramp without saying a word with that unspoken “I hear you sista – no problem” girlfriend vibe that I fully appreciate at that very nervous moment.

You’ve got to understand. I grew up as an only child that was raised by a single mom. I didn’t have any brothers holding me down and farting on my face or a dad asking me to pull his finger. My mom was private about her bodily functions and I always had tons of privacy. I do my bathroom business without the audience of my husband and I have no desire to witness him doing his #2 business on the porcelain throne. We don’t do “dutch ovens” (which for some reason other couples find really funny??) and I don’t fart in front of anyone if I can help it. I’m definitely less modest now that I’m a mother, but I still keep some things private and bodily functions are one of them.

Okay, so back to my story. My guardian angels bless me with a nearby gas station and a nice restroom all to myself. And...well, as my husband says, Satan left my body. Done. Gone. Bye-bye. Whew! I rejoin my awaiting friends (who, by the way, said to shout out if I needed reinforcements – bless them!) and we are on our way home again. So, ya...I’m supposed to be mortified and embarrassed to no end because I just don't have those moments of weakness! Only, well, I didn’t feel that way. I feel supported and loved and no shame at all and this is new for me. Wow.

When I arrive home, I tell my awaiting husband all the juicy details (no pun intended) and he’s all “Oh, that’s ‘The Fear’ that Kevin and Bean (local deejays) joke about”.

Here is the definition from my long time favorite morning radio show: “An urgent, uncontrollable need to use the restroom, coupled with the anxiety that there is not enough time to make it to said restroom. The term originated when Psycho Mike related a story wherein he took care of business on his parents’ lawn because he didn’t think he would make it inside. Tales of The Fear also surrounded the later fascination with Hot Cheetos and their undesirable side effects.”

Yep, that about sums it up. I’m actually happy that my understanding man can smile and commiserate about it. When I jokingly say to him that I wonder if my totally embarrassing out-of-my-comfort-zone moment of the night would make my friends so disgusted with me that they would never talk to or be able to look at me again, he just gives me that you’re-being-so-silly look. He suggests that if anything, it finally made me more human to them – less than perfect - that thank-goodness-she’s-finally-like-us-moment and they were probably happy about breaking down those stubborn walls and getting real with me.

It’s so true…and I really love that man. He doesn’t say much a lot of the time, but when he does he is so unbelievably wise. He could’ve said something like “that’s stupid” and dismissed me, but, he gets me. He knows my insecurities and faults and is happy when I grow and show more of the real me that he loves to other people outside of my small comfort zone.

Life is funny that way. Here I have this, uh humm, less than stellar moment and it could go either way for me. I could beat myself up and coward away in humiliation, or embrace the fact that, yes indeed, I can show the less than perfect side of me and feel better for it and people still like me after all. How very weird and unexpected this all is, but unlike my stomach, I’m not complaining one bit.

.

ps - check out another version of our night out: http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/family/sex/girls---knights-out

Surrender

The other day, I read a friend's Facebook status that said "Surrender is the answer to all my problems!". I understand why she wrote this because she's struggling with a particularly difficult year, to say the least. When you spend all of your energy working on such a huge life load like debating possible and agonizing solutions, roller-coaster emotions, and neglecting yourself, when do you reach a point where you simply surrender and stop fighting? It's by no means giving up, but it's acknowledging you have done all you can and it is now beyond your power to solve. You relinquish all of your worries to the idea that God or the universe or whatever has a reason and a purpose that is beyond your understanding at the moment. But, why is that so tough to do and why does it take us so long? All I know, from personal experience, is that it feels damn good when you finally do. Aaaah, surrender...

Ironically, that same week, this quote of the day arrived in my in-box by F. Scott Fitzgerald: "I know myself...but that is all." After reading it a few times and considering the meaning, I found it very timely and comforting. If all I really know is myself then all the other rough stuff can be treated like a learning experience but also as something I can't always figure out or find a simple solution that will fix the problem. And, sometimes I just have to laugh and surrender and remember that tomorrow is another day.

As a mom I feel like I surrender all the time - at least once a day from my pregnancy to now. My kids are almost six and are acting very almost six, so do I fight it and expect them to act like I think/wish they should act (little angels) or do I read about what to expect at this age and adopt the phrase "that's very six of them" and provide support and comfort and love (and make sure I have a fully stocked wine cabinet)? What, noooo, sick yet again for the 27th time this year? Movies and tv on the couch all day again and no social life - it's all part of the family package. Fight and anguish over the indisputable fact that it's nearly impossible for my children to sleep in past 6 a.m. no matter what early or late hour they fall asleep? I still grumble, but also embrace and appreciate the fact that we are never late to school considering we have over two hours to get ready in the morning. Oh, I could go on and on and on. I didn't even mention the permanent dark circles under my eyes and smaller boobs from breastfeeding, if that's even possible (I certainly didn't think it was). I will never be able to make up for all the lost sleep and bra sizes, but my mommy life is certainly very rich and rewarding...and yippee for padded bras and under-eye concealer!

I think back to before I knew where my children were going to kindergarten. Every time me and the kids would throw a coin in the fountain I would make a wish that "my children would be able to attend my beloved childhood private school". This went on for months and months at fountains all over LA. Only when I finally decided to stop trying to impose what I selfishly wanted and surrendered to the universe and wished instead "I wish that my children get to go to the school that's just right for them" did I feel at peace with whatever happened. And, turns out we were beyond blessed with getting two "lucky" lottery slots at a public charter school that seems tailor made for our family.

What I'm trying to get at is that as much I surrender, although often it feels like defeat, it's all worth it. It's humbling and character building and a necessary part of gaining perspective and a different outlook on what really matters. And, thank goodness for the wisdom and maturity that the gift of surrender brings.

Gift box

Me and yoga have had an on again off again relationship since I was eighteen, long before the ancient practice was mainstream and trendy (yep, that's me – super trendsetter). This time around, it's been a (shameful) year since I took my last class. I belong to a great ladies-only gym and spa, where the most talented and inspiring 63 year-young beautiful instructor teaches yoga. When I do yoga regularly I eat better, breathe better, look better, have more energy and better posture, and feel more confident, relaxed, and centered. Good stuff.

So, what is my problem that I put off going to class for a year? Embarrassed? Too busy? Too Tired? Not interested in all the benefits but would rather feel crappy and blue than do something about it aka mommy martyr? I get stuck in that vicious circle of lazy excuses and self criticism and enough is enough. I want to feel better and reunite with my long-time friend and love yoga!

After a year of neglecting my inner yogi, me and my favorite yoga partner, my mom (who has also denied herself a regular class in way too long) make concrete plans to take the easiest of the two Saturday yoga classes. I unearth my green yoga mat from a pile of crap in my carport and it’s so dirty that I have to hose it off before I can use it. As I spray the year's worth of leaves and dirt off the mat, I see a few spiders escape the flooding of their home and I think about the movie A Bugs Life and that I’ve just destroyed their only world and they are crawling away screaming “Run for your lives – Armageddon!!!!”. Hey, a girl has to make light of a sad situation, right? Or, am I just trying to make myself feel guilty that I've neglected myself just like my yoga mat? Wait wait wait, enough of that being so hard on myself nonsense.

Damp yoga mat and water bottle in hand, I arrive at the gym and join my mom in line waiting for our class to begin. After the advanced yoga class finishes their 500 crunches and namaste - yes, 500!!! – we secure our places in the back of the room and smile at each other like “ya, we are finally doing it, yea for us!”. The instructor announces that, by request, we’ll be doing the full shoulder pretzel today and does a little speech about how it hurts but it’s worth it. Inside I’m cheering because I LOVE doing the full shoulder pretzel. LOVE IT!!!! All of the pain (torture) aside, there is no other position that leaves you feeling better immediately and for many glorious days after that. A marvelous hour later, I feel like a new woman with a renewed feeling that no way no how will I ever go a year again without my beloved yoga.

There are several regular appointments that I schedule for my physical health and I do my very best to keep up with those. I regularly see my gynecologist, eye doctor, general doctor, dentist (I’m, uh hum, back on track after a little “hiatus”), chiropractor, and hairdresser (hey, call it mental therapy). Some people even consider it a birthday gift to themselves to get an exam, like my favorite former waiter writer. I'll spread my legs for my gyno, endure the agony of dental cleanings and lectures (guilt) about flossing every day, but I won't gift myself the pleasure of a weekly yoga class in the very least? It just doesn't make sense. I know my life can get busy and tiring, but one hour a week of stretching, breathing, and getting balanced makes all the other day-to-day life stuff a whole lot easier. I am making a promise to myself that doing yoga is not adding to my already long to-do list, but instead I'm adding it to my personal gift box. Like my to-do list which never seems empty, I want to make sure my gift box is always full. Humm, very clever of me...so, let's see, what else can I add to that box?

Unexpected Surprises

10 Unexpected Surprises about My Life Right Now

1. I have a close friend also named Daria (we were both named after a character from the same movie, Zabriskie Point, and we have almost identical middle names). Weird.

2. I live within walking distance from the former site of the hospital where I was born (it has since been demolished and soon-to-be a new high school).

3. I’m still working at the same movie studio after sixteen great years. Oh the places I’ve traveled and the people I’ve met! Favorite star sighting and story…Katherine Hepburn. 4. I have twins (it’s still unbelievable, even after two psychics in my early 20’s told me I would).

5. I am still married, to the same special man, for almost twelve wonderful years. The odds were against me and I secretly always thought I was doomed. I don’t feel that way anymore. I beat the odds!

6. I like myself much much better now that I am a mother. Having kids profoundly changed me in more ways than I can list or comprehend.

7. I cry a lot more about happy things than about sad things. How did I become such a sap?

8. I can count more close friends in my life than ever before, but I often get insecure and worry that they will all suddenly decide I suck and I’ll be friendless and lonely again like I was in my early 20’s.

9. I am amazed at how therapeutic writing is and the more I dig and express my guarded thoughts the prouder I feel about my writing…and the better I get. I convinced myself in college that math was easier and more satisfying because you know when you get the right answer, but, boy oh boy was I wrong.

10. Like my writing of this little blog, I love the rewards of stepping out my of comfort zone, even if it’s baby steps. I’ve done that more in the last few years than in my whole life, and so far I've been totally blessed and lucky. If only I could take a big leap and do something totally risky. I need to believe in myself more and not be so scared. I would love to start my own business...or apply for The Amazing Race!

Solving the puzzle

Lately I find myself drawn to doing jigsaw puzzles. I like the 1000 piece not-too-easy but not-too-hard types. There are tons of reasons why I like doing them. I get some great conversations with my kids and husband, especially Talia - that patient girl just loves talkin' and puzzlin'. When I'm done with each puzzle I get a rare feeling of accomplishment (my puzzle rule: you start a puzzle you get to finish the puzzle). It gives me time to think about all kinds of things and also clear my head. Oh, and it gets me away from the damn computer.

Best of all, though, is the escape. Okay, I'll admit, these last few heavy puzzling weeks, things around the house have been neglected a bit, like the laundry that needs folding or the scary dirty bathroom or the 5,000 other "to-do" list items waiting to be finished. I'll sit down at the puzzle table and next thing I know it's two hours later. I feel a twinge of guilt about all that "wasted" time. But, with no real vacations plans or girlfriend getaways scheduled this year, I'm in tremendous need of an escape. I'm in limbo with my job - still employed, to my surprise, but totally uncertain when that will end, the summer is fast approaching and the kids will need activities, and my grand visions of reinventing my working life and doing something totally new and exciting are on hold, indefinitely.

I don't need the puzzles to escape from a bad life, in fact, life is good right now and I'm not complaining. But, almost three months ago when I got the word about losing my job, I expected my life to take a giant leap forward with new career options and possibilities. Heck, just the thought of having new found free time after five plus years of working from home made me smile even with new money worries. Only now, I feel like I'm in a holding pattern and I think it's messed with my head a bit. I'm more than happy to still be working at a great place with fantastic people in a dream situation, but I do struggle a bit with keeping a positive smile and go-getter attitude when I know any day I'll be done there.

Maybe I need to spend less time doing puzzles and more time networking and planning the next fabulous getaway. But, just maybe it's exactly what I need right now. I can think of far worse things to spend my time doing other than petting my "neglected" cat while I search for that elusive roof piece. When the time comes, I know I'll step up and move my life forward. For now, I'll just appreciate the calm and relaxation that puzzles bring...one piece at a time and one day at a time.