A day for rebooting the soul

I was on the bus pad, eagerly waiting for my daughter to step off the shuttled parent pick up bus. My car was quiet, except for the sounds of 1970's Batman playing on loop from my backseat. My son drifted off to sleep about 10 minutes prior and I rarely heard the TV sounds, as my mind drifted in and out of thought. The blue sky radiated full sun beams onto my car, making the temperatures feel a lot warmer than 70 degrees. 

For 6 hrs, my brain has reeled every thought pertaining to my daughter's school day. I can't help but feel the desire to be with her and help walk her through all the steps of confrontation.

My thoughts were interrupted by the big yellow bus pulling up to the concrete pad. I stepped out of my car and scanned the crowd until I locked eyes with my daughter, as she made her way down the bus steps. She jumped into my arms, but wasn't herself. She looked a cross between being exhausted and sad.

I asked...

But, she stayed silent, as I buckled her into her car seat.

I didn't pry...

She looked over at her sleeping brother and softly stroked his head and said, "sister's home now." To which his eyes rapidly twitched.

I drove away from the school, nonchalantly asking questions about her day. She replied briefly and focused onto the screen in front of her. 

I pondered many thoughts in these quick moments. Most of them being the mad rush that will take place once we get home. The drill is always the same during the week. We rush home, I finish the remaining parts of dinner and I talk to her, or she watches Henry Danger for a half hour to detox from school. My husband comes home shortly after and then we all sit together at the dinner table and eat. We then clean up afterwards. Begin homework, take baths or do a fun activity. Then, we spend the last remaining time doing our nightly designed bedtime routine.

But, after glancing back at my daughter through the rear view mirror, I decided to change things up a little bit. I called my parents and in code, asked if they wanted to meet us for food, then go to the farm -which, they did.

So, I turned the car around and drove to the restaurant to meet my parents, fielding questions from my daughter. In the process, my sleeping son woke up and participated in the game, 20 questions.

Within minutes, my parent's car pulled in and my daughter and son shrieked a sound that mimicked an injured animal. And then, tried to release themselves from their car seats, like they were escaping from Alcatraz. 

We ate dinner, played eye spy, and laughed a lot. The best part was, I didn't watch the clock once. Except of course, when I guessed the clock color as the answer. 

We then made our way to the farm to walk the grounds and feed the animals and consume ice cream from the dairy store. 

We followed the same path that we have always taken since my daughter was only a year old and my son was only a twinkle in my heart.

Each child took turns being the leader of the adventure and both were also annoying each other being back seat drivers...

Typical sibling scenario...

My daughter shared her sheep food with a little girl who was standing by fence, fondly admiring the sheep. And my son scolded the sheep for nibbling his favorite shirt. 

Our second stop was to my daughter's favorite barn, to read to the baby cows. She slowly thumbed through each book that were piled on an old crate, until she found the perfect one. Then shimmied herself onto the oversized white rocking chair and began her story. My son quietly walked up and down the narrow hallway between the pens, picking up piles of fallen hay and hand fed the baby cows that were standing close to the rails waiting. I stood off to the side with my head stretched out towards the small window with every attempt to breathe fresh air. 

After too many stories were read (my son already left the small barn and was over at the bunny area with my parents), my daughter and I left to meet up with them, only after she said her goodbyes to each cow.

Over at the duck pond, both children made sure each duck was given the same amount of food. And both scolded the big white ducks when they became too aggressive towards the littler ducks. The words, "Mr. Ducky, you already have had too many pieces!" were spoken from my son.

When the food ran out, my children and I competed who can walk across a little stone ledge the furthest without falling. My son totally won... And I fell within a few seconds after the photo below was taken. My daughter took a great action shot of me losing my balance.

The time was approaching 7:00 and the remnants of ice cream was plastered on my son's shirt and my daughter's cheeks. I knew our day had to end so we could get back home to do her homework and take baths before bed. But once we arrived home, homework was done quickly and we decided to play more. So the three of us stayed up an hour past bedtime and laughed and acted silly longer than we usually do. Which is tough, because we're pretty silly people.

With the sun finally set far below the earth's horizon and the cool fall night time air blowing into the dark bedroom, we said our good night chants, long after the last stories were read. 

My daughter and son both thanked me for a fun day and closed their eyes with the most peaceful looks on their little faces. And I was very glad I decided to break the daily routine. 

Because sometimes, the best days are the spontaneous, unplanned ones. And it does feel great to break up the monotony of the repetitious week. And considering the look on my daughter's face when she stepped off the bus, I'd say, she needed

it. She needed a couple moments of fun and non scheduled thoughts, so her mind could reset itself and reboot. She needed to be with people who don't judge her or question her. She needed the security of family, you know, the people who always keep your feet on the ground when you feel like you're falling.

She needed to be herself. Because who she is, is an old soul trapped in a modern age child's body. She's different than the majority of the other children, mainly because, I'm different. She has a mom who never followed the trends around her. Who took the brunt of other people's comments just to be who she felt was her. But, it'll take her a long time to realize that being different is a very good thing. Eventually, she work out all the quirks and find a groove that works for her. But until then, my job as mommy is to show her how special she is and to love her to excess. And to help her become the individual she wants to be, not who everyone else is...

And occasionally, break up the routine and have a little spontaneous fun...

Mid Week Revelation: Teaching kindness

Sometimes, it's not so important if your child can pick up their toys or vacuum the house. But rather, how their inner voice speaks to them when the world around them is quiet. Or quite simply, how they would treat an injured bird they found near their feet.

www.jackyhappydays.blogspot.com

The cruel world of a first grade bully...

Our days have changed so much since my daughter began first grade. The carefree little girl that used to posses her shining spirit, is slowly being replaced by a self doubting school age child. Her confidence is being tested daily, while she spreads her wings and flies from the safety and security of her nest. Her original bubbly personality usually floated through the day, being happy with the world around her. But unexpectedly, she started internalizing her days. 

She would wear anything I laid out the night before, but suddenly, she is second guessing her outfits in wonder what others will think. 

She's changing and growing, while trying to find a way to fit into this new environment around her. She's quickly being exposed to situations which are very foreign to her. 

I'm starting to hear phrases like, "because others are doing it," on a consistent basis. And, she's using new words and slang. And suddenly, she wants to trade in her homemade bento style lunches for cafeteria food because, she's the only one who brings their lunch at her table. 

However, our daily inflictions always have been moderated by our nightly snuggles, story time, and before bed conversations. It's in these moments that I still see that little girl that graced my life all the years prior. I feel like, in this moment, we can conquer anything. We lay side by side in her bed, under the glow from her Himalayan salt lamp, laughing, acting silly, and talking about her school days.

She tells me what she learns, what she likes, what she dislikes, and all her aspirations. *Her dislikes are still being away from her brother and I for 6.5 hrs daily and her highest level of likes are music, art, and learning.

But under that shimmering night time glow, is when I started noticing changes with her typical smiley self. She begun clinging for hugs a little longer and tears would erupt when I told her, it was time for bed... 

And after prying, she finally indulged that she is being mocked by another first grader at school for bringing in a homemade lunch... And that she now hated going to lunch and sitting by this girl.

...She cried...

I collected my thoughts before I answered. Then, I felt the words reach my lips, but I couldn't seem to speak them. I wanted to articulate my words correctly and efficiently. I wanted them to be first grade appropriate because, I remember being bullied in elementary school for being "different" than everyone else. And I didn't want my resentment or retaliation from my past conquest be my words of motivation. But before I could talk, she continued by saying, "I told the girl that her words hurt my feelings and I would appreciate it if she stopped." But, the girl laughed at her. 

So here I sat, during our rhythmic happy night time routine, holding my crying newly 6 year old child tightly in my arms. A child who never experienced anything like this and didn't understand why anyone would be so mean over something so small. Or why someone would care so much about her lunch. 

I interrupted by saying how proud I was of her for using her words to express how she felt. I didn't focus on the girl's negative response, but only how strong she was for her action. 

I asked her if she liked her lunch... And she does. She loves them, because each day, I write a hand written note with an inspirational message or a daily joke or riddle. 

But, I was repeatedly told if I did pack a lunch, it couldn't contain a sandwich with the crust cut off (because apparently, that makes her a baby) or goldfish crackers. My daughter said the girl promised she wouldn't make fun of her as long as she didn't pack these items... 

I took a deep breath, trying to filter my thoughts once again and arrange them in a fashion that she would understand. Then, I explained how the world worked.

In first grade language.

I explained that most people bully because they are being bullied at home or by someone. Or they are witnessing someone else being treated as such. And that this little girl is either experiencing these situations, or simply, she is jealous that her mom isn't giving her a homemade lunch too. But with either circumstance, she won't stop mocking just because my daughter obliges to her wishes. In fact, as soon as my daughter does oblige, this girl will just move onto something else that she dislikes about my daughter. 

Nonetheless, my sheltered child has retreated into herself and like the majority of school age children, she just wants to fit in and be liked by all. A skill that is quickly nullifed once you reach adulthood.

But my heart breaks...

I know it's a simple fix to call the school and have her table changed in the cafeteria, but that won't build her confidence in standing up for her own self worth. Plus, she likes the 4 other students at her table of 6. So, I continued to reiterate the peaceful aspect of using her words to express her feelings and to mind her peaceful tone at all times. Because, she needs to hold her ground and be confident in her decisions. I also told her to avoid conflict and stooping down to her level, as most bullies feed from negativity and it'll only entice the situation. 

And, the asshole adult in me, told her to bring 3 sandwiches with all the crust cut off and eat them slowly in front of her. 

Because, who the hell cares what you bring for lunch anyways.

And, I don't think she understands how irrelevant the 30 minutes of her food choices are, as opposed to the entire day.

And, she loves the entire day of school...

And this child isn't even in her class.

But unfortunately, knowing your self worth and ability to weed out the relevant versus irrelevant is something you acquire as you age. And for now, all I can do is coach her through this process and double up on the amount of Beverly Goldberg love and support in her home life. Keep reassuring her confidence and her righteous actions. And continue the ill-fated dialogue of how some people are in this world. But most importantly, that shouldn't ever overshadow her kindness, understanding, and thoughtfulness for other peers. Because, the majority are lovely people. And those majority, want to get to know my daughter and are kind to her. And those are the people she should immerse herself with. 

And hopefully this experience will open her eyes that not everyone is kind. Although, it's a sad lesson to learn within the first few weeks of first grade. But once she leaps this hurdle, the next time she encounters a similar situation, it won't be so earth shattering.

And unfortunately, she will encounter this situation again...

** This conversation just happened this weekend. Tonight, she went to sleep happier than she did over the past several days. And, I will make her lunch tomorrow, but I will not provide those food items. The reason is, because I want her to absorb the information that was provided and maybe start a friendly dialogue with the girl tomorrow (without the "baby" food items present). Then, when she comes home, her and I will talk about the lunch experience and I'll then weave those food items in as the week progresses. I may even let her buy a lunch one day. All this, to slowly build her confidence in dealing with this foreign experience, not giving in. And, I'll keep everyone posted as we progress :)

Mid Week Humor: Patience

Childhood consists of the capacity to enjoy everything and explore without judgement. 

Adults can learn many things from children. 

Like, how much patience you have, for instance.

...Motherhood.

www.jackyhappydays.blogspot.com

She's coming home...

My home feels different without my daughter's chattering voice echoing from room to room. The walls seem smaller and the air, thinner. The sounds are sometimes so quiet, that I can hear the trucks on the road from a few blocks away.

The days seem longer, but yet, I can't get as much done as I once did. My being is so used to having two children, that I still can't find a groove with only one child. 

My son also feels the shift in the home. He floats from room to room unsure of what to do without his big sister with us. He occasionally retreats into his playroom to play with his Batman guys, only for a few, before he saunters back out asking when she'll be home. I keep him busy (and myself) by playing and going places, but we feel incomplete as a unit of only two.

It's a vast change to be living one way for 6 years, then having the majority of your day turned upside down. 

But, we will grow and build and persevere as a different unit. And as time passes, we'll find what makes us click as a newly group of two. We'll create our special moments and make our time as memorable as my daughter's. So when he begins school, I'll have the same difficulty figuring out how to manage my day without him.

But until then, he and I will patiently wait until 3:30, when her beautiful smiling face runs to us after school, and we're all complete once again.

Our unit of 3.

Beach memories...

The month of August was a whirlwind of events ranging from birthday parties, vacations, and day/weekend trips. It seemed like we were constantly fighting the clock, minute to minute, trying to fit everything in before school begun.

The most highly anticipated event in August was our beach trip, which ranked higher than my daughter's birthday. Both kids had a countdown on their kindles and they showed me daily, right up to the sleepless night before. 

And the day finally arrived on the second to last week in August...

The drive down to the shore is a few hours long from our home, but we're always packed with enough snacks and organic packet drinks to survive an apocalypse. However, snacks and a DVD player will not keep them occupied while you're in 4 lanes of traffic and you're moving a mile every 30 minutes and both kids simultaneously have to pee. That's when you bust out the car dancing and attempt to sing frozen songs... That occupies them... But in turn, probably freaks out the steady cars idling next to you...

But once we hit the coast line, both children had their heads pressed against the windows in anticipation of seeing sandy beaches and saltwater. And they know, once we cross over the "sailboat" bridge and drive through the little local beach towns, we're almost there.

We count down the street numbers, street by street, and they take notice of all the miniature golf places and pick their favorite one.  

Among a sea of condos and private beach houses, sits a timeless vintage 1950s style motel. A place, my husband and I have stayed on and off for 14 years. The facade brings me right back to my childhood and the same beachfront mom and pop motels that we always stayed at. 

Then, each motel looked different, as opposed to the new age uniformed condos being built. But, all had a similar theme of seashells lined in the picture window sills and beach towels strung across the balcony's railing. People sat on the plastic patio chairs in front of their rooms, overlooking the pool, and the seagulls soared through the air, eagerly waiting for food to drop. 

As a child, we would quickly eat our prepackaged foods and drink shasta soda out of the can around the patio pool area, desperately trying to get back out to ocean, so we could boogey board until sunset. Our parents and grandparents, continuously slathering us with sun block to counteract the long sunny days and us, rolling our eyes saying, "We're fine!"

The children would swim in the pool, while the adults played on the outdoor ping pong table or use the concrete shuffle board. The air was filled with 1970's music and the ringing bell from the ice cream truck was the most magical sound in the world. 

My whole extended family would block off the rooms in a line and I remember bouncing from chair to chair, enjoying the conversations. 

Returning each year to this vintage motel, almost feels like I'm retracing footsteps to a part of my past that was so deeply cherished. Being here with my children, enjoying the same things that I once did, cures the yearning to relieve the past. Right down to the warm baths in a freezing room and night time boardwalk walks among the flashing game lights and winning big stuffed animals on those balloon dart games. 

I have so many memories from my seashore trips over the years. And from all the vacations I have taken, going to the beach was my favorite of all. I'm not sure if it was because of all the family memories, or the way the salt air changes your brain chemistry, but my mood uplifts when I reminisce. And I'm hoping, years from now, my children will have the same memories, minus the prepackaged foods and shasta soda.

-Memories of waking up and painting on the balcony.
-Playing Go Fish around the pool.
-Jumping waves in the ocean. 
-Boogey boarding in the ocean. And my son's first time boogey boarding.
-Laughing so hard when a wave took the three of us out and my daughter standing up saying, "am I still alive?"
-My son putting a long string of seaweed over his head and pretending his hair was long.
-Playing Marco Polo in the pool. 
-Racing in the pool and my daughter breaking away like a ninja and actually winning. In my defense, my son was on my back, but she totally did win.
-Night swimming.
-Eating mama's homemade macaroni and cheese on the balcony.
-Walking the boardwalk and stopping in every beachfront store to look at allllllllll the toys.
-Playing in the arcade and both children hand picking their winning prizes, which took almost 45 minutes.
-Taking our yearly vintage family photo and my daughter picked the theme (it was a beach theme) and she wanted to be a mermaid. So she did. And now it's a conversation piece, as we all are wearing dated outfits and she's a random mermaid on a rock in front of us.
-Riding boardwalk rides until our heads spin. Seriously.
-Playing games. And having to keep playing until they both had the exact amount of prizes.
-Playing in the beach sand, at night, under the boardwalk's light.
-And also, cuddling up late at night on the balcony and talking about our day...

...With our sunkissed skin and salt in every inch of our hair and our skin, sandy, and our hearts full...

Each year, my childhood memories become pushed aside by the memories being made with my children. When I attempt to recall something from the past, I immediately remember a funny story from my children or from one of the beach trips we took.

And what I hope for is, both of my children will always remember the fun memories and the love that was shared. And, when they're older talking about their trips, they'll have the same smile as I do.

*And I'm hoping they'll want to take family vacations with me even when they're married with their own children...

Mid Week Humor: Motherhood in a glimpse.

That moment when your son decides to slither like a snake across the floor of Target and detour other customers around him, while you're having a conversation with a friend who you haven't seen in years... Motherhood.

www.jackyhappydays.blogspot.com

A day for wishes...

We walked hand in hand through the woods, with last year's leaves crunching beneath our feet. The air, too warm for mid September, but a rare cloudless sky hovered over our heads. We talked about what we each thought his sister was doing at that very second. Was she happy? Sad? Did she miss us as much as we missed her? He thought she might be in library, getting a Pigeon book for us to read tonight... I quietly hoped she did.

Then in mid conversation, he ran ahead of me where he knelt down and picked up one of those "blowy things" that was buried among the fallen leaves. He proudly held it up and said, "I could make a wish that I'll always be with you and sister forever." I smiled, not only at the gesture, but at his excitement while saying it. 

Instead, with his little hands clasped tightly around the weakened stem, he said, "I wish mommy will always be my best friend," then blew the white seeds into the wind... 

I thought both wishes were beautiful, but neither of those statements will ever require a wish to maintain...