Another Embarrasing Story to Help Children…

this one is all mine http://www.canisitwithyou.org

“Lena” and I were best friends in fourth and fifth grade. We even had boyfriends who were best friends. She came all the way from the other side of town to come to the GATE classes at our school. We went to different middle schools and pretty much lost contact some time during those junior high years.

She was a US champion surfer, which I suppose, is something that happens when you grow up in Southern California, you know movie stars and champion surfers. I also know she went to UCI (probably even took a class from my dad!)and I think she got a degree in Chemistry. I am fairly certain she is a pediatrician now.

now I sound like a stalker….

I Forget

Most of the time I forget about the life I kind of expected.

My dear friend, KFJ just sent me a great email…the highlights of their trip to family camp, something they’ve been doing for years. Our alma mater has a family camp like this one, and I had nearly forgotten that I had sort of pledged to myself as a dreamy eyed senior that I would make sure my family went to The Lair every year to be exposed to nature and to other families that loved their college and education. Silly maybe, but I loved the idea. I was always a Go Bears! sort of ambassador at Cal, and at the time could never imagine that the reason I wouldn’t be going to family camp wasn’t because we were working in France or Japan.. that the very reason for going to a camp like this would be the thing that stopped me…my kid.

So I forgot. KFJ’s oldest daughter Papaya is Jake’s age; almost exactly. We have a great(?!) photo of the two of them, Papaya sitting up so nicely, Jake being temporarily propped up by a Bobby so he doesn’t take a header. I knew then that my kid was different. I knew, but it was watching my friend from college with her daughter that was just one more shocker that this life was going to be a lot different than I imagined.

but I forgot that too. Maybe that’s a blessing of having a kid with weird sleep issues and the ability to nearly conk me out by accident just by getting out of the tub, perhaps the brutality of our daily living helps me forget, just as most women can’t remember giving birth. If we remembered how would we do it again.. if I constantly remembered the loss how would I face tomorrow. And so I forget all of those little 22 year old fantasies. That’s what they were any way.

We dream so we can set goals and start running.

But tonight I read the email (which I love.. so don’t stop sending them Kung Fu…)
and I just wept as I looked at the slide show. Her beautiful talented, smart children looking at the camera, or smiling at their counselor. Performing at the talent show, swimming without diapers, riding bicycles, hell.. wearing a bicycle helmet. Jake won’t even tolerate a friggin’ helmet!

So I will wallow for a few minutes. It feels a little (okay a lot) indulgent. My child is alive and healthy. My son managed to get through IKEA twice this week, which is more than most kids can do. And when he hugs me I know he means it because it is so hard for him to pause and connect it is not out of guilt or direction; he is doing it to connect. And he smirks when his baby sister is a brat. And he tried to play cars with Sage’s daughter the other day. So we are good. And school starts on Monday. And. And. And.

and I am sad. and I can’t help it dammit. And envy is the ugliest sin I can ever imagine, and right now I want a little bit of what someone else has, and I hate HATE being the person who wants what others have because I already have so much.

I just wanted to go camping. I just want my children to take a picture together.

I just want to forget again.

Evan Kamida (July 30, 2000 – July 24, 2008)

My heart goes out to Vicki Forman and her family. She is a remarkable woman, and her loss is unimaginable.

If you feel moved to do so, in lieu of flowers, please send contributions to:
The Pediatric Epilepsy Fund at UCLA
Division of Pediatric Neurology
Mattel Children’s Hospital at UCLA
David Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA
22-474 MDCC
10833 Le Conte Avenue
Los Angeles, CA 90095-1752

or online http://www.vickiforman.com/?p=1011

As the women in my family have often said

“There but for the Grace of God, go I.”

Wishing you fortitude Vicki.

Girls at the Park

Mali and Lucy at the little park near my house. These are the most rough and tumble little girlie girls I have ever watched shake a jungle gym. It was a pleasure to hang with them today.

Good. Kind. Kid.

I did it. I took Jake out with his buddy from school yesterday.
That little boy was so wonderful. Polite and the kind of kid we only
hope ours act like when apart from us.
He was a joy. Jake was so happy.
It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I mean it was later..but that’s another story.

__________________________

Okay the other story I can tell now that I am not trying to type from my phone…it was hard because LATER.. I got to thinking about how Jake’s friend and I talked about all sorts of things he likes to do, and who he plays with, and when I dropped him off he was able to tell me where he lived, and who his neighbors are. He could read the menu. He ordered his own lunch. He asked if he could use the bathroom. He made a joke about something. Basically he was a “typical” kid (although he is actually more than typical, he is truly exceptional with his compassion and awareness of others and their feelings and needs.)

I got to thinking about the fact that Jake isn’t like that. Now we have plenty of friends who have kids the same age who have sailed on by Jake with their abilities, but we have known those people forever, so it is sometimes painful when comparison is impossible to squelch, but generally that just stopped happening years ago. But here was a kid who is in the class next door to my kid. I am not often derailed with this emotion anymore. I know it will happen again and again as “typical” milestones come and go, but most of the time I prepare myself for them.

Last night I just had to swallow that little sadness and be so, so thankful that Jake’s friend’s parents have raised such a good kid. Thankful that Jake sends some sort of vibe out into the world that draws at least a few kids near him, (even a little girlfriend for awhile!) I praised Jake in the car after his friend left, letting him know that it speaks to his character that other kids like him even though he doesn’t talk very much. I told him that some of his friends probably appreciate that he is a very good listener.

I swallowed that little pain (with a little cocktail I’ll admit) knowing that I never would have met this delightful boy if Jake wasn’t the child he is, and I probably never would have appreciated the wonder of watching a child read his own menu, buckling his own seat belt and thanking me for lunch. I am a better person with Jake in my life. I know I am. So I am choosing to be just ever so thankful to Jake’s friend for being nice to my kid, for coming with us to lunch, and for wanting to do it again sometime…also for asking if Jake would like to play basketball at his house sometime.. .because Jake’s friend? He volunteered to help Jake play.

Can I Sit With You?
buy it now at http://www.lulu.com/content/1466612

www.CanISitWithYou.org

Good. Kind. Kid.

I did it. I took Jake out with his buddy from school yesterday.
That little boy was so wonderful. Polite and the kind of kid we only
hope ours act like when apart from us.
He was a joy. Jake was so happy.
It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I mean it was later..but that’s another story.

__________________________

Okay the other story I can tell now that I am not trying to type from my phone…it was hard because LATER.. I got to thinking about how Jake’s friend and I talked about all sorts of things he likes to do, and who he plays with, and when I dropped him off he was able to tell me where he lived, and who his neighbors are. He could read the menu. He ordered his own lunch. He asked if he could use the bathroom. He made a joke about something. Basically he was a “typical” kid (although he is actually more than typical, he is truly exceptional with his compassion and awareness of others and their feelings and needs.)

I got to thinking about the fact that Jake isn’t like that. Now we have plenty of friends who have kids the same age who have sailed on by Jake with their abilities, but we have known those people forever, so it is sometimes painful when comparison is impossible to squelch, but generally that just stopped happening years ago. But here was a kid who is in the class next door to my kid. I am not often derailed with this emotion anymore. I know it will happen again and again as “typical” milestones come and go, but most of the time I prepare myself for them.

Last night I just had to swallow that little sadness and be so, so thankful that Jake’s friend’s parents have raised such a good kid. Thankful that Jake sends some sort of vibe out into the world that draws at least a few kids near him, (even a little girlfriend for awhile!) I praised Jake in the car after his friend left, letting him know that it speaks to his character that other kids like him even though he doesn’t talk very much. I told him that some of his friends probably appreciate that he is a very good listener.

I swallowed that little pain (with a little cocktail I’ll admit) knowing that I never would have met this delightful boy if Jake wasn’t the child he is, and I probably never would have appreciated the wonder of watching a child read his own menu, buckling his own seat belt and thanking me for lunch. I am a better person with Jake in my life. I know I am. So I am choosing to be just ever so thankful to Jake’s friend for being nice to my kid, for coming with us to lunch, and for wanting to do it again sometime…also for asking if Jake would like to play basketball at his house sometime.. .because Jake’s friend? He volunteered to help Jake play.

Can I Sit With You?
buy it now at http://www.lulu.com/content/1466612

www.CanISitWithYou.org

Drawn Together

This is the piece of art Jake did with his buddy as part of an art program we put together in our school district.

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Drawn Together

This is the piece of art Jake did with his buddy as part of an art program we put together in our school district.

This message was sent using the Picture and Video Messaging service from Verizon Wireless!

To learn how you can snap pictures and capture videos with your wireless phone visit www.verizonwireless.com/picture.

To play video messages sent to email, QuickTime� 6.5 or higher is required. Visit www.apple.com/quicktime/download to download the free player or upgrade your existing QuickTime� Player. Note: During the download process when asked to choose an installation type (Minimum, Recommended or Custom), select Minimum for faster download.

Cross Hairs

I made my 10:00am appointment 8 weeks ago. My hair was shredding this morning as I forced it once again into ponytails. It was time.

At 9:41 I got the call from school. Jake threw up.. he actually ran to the bathroom himself and threw up into the toilet. So that’s good right? I mean that he knew where to go, and then felt better and sat down in his chair next to his aide.

So now it’s 9:42am and I am trying to figure out whether I bag the hair appointment, disappointing myself, all of those who must look at my shredding hair, and of course all of those little hairs themselves who had so been looking forward to living a new life on the floor of the fancy salon.

F*CK! F*ck! I do not want to go pick up Jake right now..in two hours, fine, but NOT RIGHT NOW. and of course then I feel like a total jerk wad, the cruelest mom in the world, because I do not want to miss out on my haircut?! What? Since when does my hair come before my child? Apparently today? Spring break lasted 600 years.

So…I called Pollyanna. No answer on any phone associated with her name.Damn. Damn.

I called Sage. Sage, who works out of her home and would therefore need to stop focusing on her wee little clients to chat with me.. thank goodness she also did not pick up. Damn. Damn. Damn!

Then I got a little bit close to weepy thinking “I have no one.” Which is soooooo not true, but you know how it just feels like that on some days, and lately a lot of days for me? Like I am just all alone hanging off a buoy in the middle of the Atlantic? or the Adriatic, but most likely the Pacific, because who really has the money to travel these days anywhooo?

So I called Squid. I called precious Squid who was happily enjoying her first child-free morning in weeks. Like I said spring break lasted 600 years. I called her and (of course) she went and picked up my kid from ALL THE WAY ACROSS TOWN (btw I probably owe her like 6 bucks in gas for that alone). Then she went about her day and when I was done getting my “do” “done”. She was patiently waiting at my house with my happy-to-be-home son.

As it turns out, I am not alone. It feels good to not be alone. Also feels great to have had my hair cut…and also, I am quite a bit thankful that Jake did not throw up in Squid’s car, and all over Mali.

Thanks Squid. You’re the bestest.

p.s. Jake is totally fine and probably threw up due to a double, perhaps triple full-fat milk course this morning, as Mommy and Daddy were both taking care of him and may have given in to the requests separately and sequentially. We normally do no more than 10 ounces of milk at a time, ’cause Mr. Jumpy jump can make his milk shake.. and 30 ounces apparently makes him barf.

Cross Hairs

I made my 10:00am appointment 8 weeks ago. My hair was shredding this morning as I forced it once again into ponytails. It was time.

At 9:41 I got the call from school. Jake threw up.. he actually ran to the bathroom himself and threw up into the toilet. So that’s good right? I mean that he knew where to go, and then felt better and sat down in his chair next to his aide.

So now it’s 9:42am and I am trying to figure out whether I bag the hair appointment, disappointing myself, all of those who must look at my shredding hair, and of course all of those little hairs themselves who had so been looking forward to living a new life on the floor of the fancy salon.

F*CK! F*ck! I do not want to go pick up Jake right now..in two hours, fine, but NOT RIGHT NOW. and of course then I feel like a total jerk wad, the cruelest mom in the world, because I do not want to miss out on my haircut?! What? Since when does my hair come before my child? Apparently today? Spring break lasted 600 years.

So…I called Pollyanna. No answer on any phone associated with her name.Damn. Damn.

I called Sage. Sage, who works out of her home and would therefore need to stop focusing on her wee little clients to chat with me.. thank goodness she also did not pick up. Damn. Damn. Damn!

Then I got a little bit close to weepy thinking “I have no one.” Which is soooooo not true, but you know how it just feels like that on some days, and lately a lot of days for me? Like I am just all alone hanging off a buoy in the middle of the Atlantic? or the Adriatic, but most likely the Pacific, because who really has the money to travel these days anywhooo?

So I called Squid. I called precious Squid who was happily enjoying her first child-free morning in weeks. Like I said spring break lasted 600 years. I called her and (of course) she went and picked up my kid from ALL THE WAY ACROSS TOWN (btw I probably owe her like 6 bucks in gas for that alone). Then she went about her day and when I was done getting my “do” “done”. She was patiently waiting at my house with my happy-to-be-home son.

As it turns out, I am not alone. It feels good to not be alone. Also feels great to have had my hair cut…and also, I am quite a bit thankful that Jake did not throw up in Squid’s car, and all over Mali.

Thanks Squid. You’re the bestest.

p.s. Jake is totally fine and probably threw up due to a double, perhaps triple full-fat milk course this morning, as Mommy and Daddy were both taking care of him and may have given in to the requests separately and sequentially. We normally do no more than 10 ounces of milk at a time, ’cause Mr. Jumpy jump can make his milk shake.. and 30 ounces apparently makes him barf.