Spinning Yellow

For Evan and His Family

My deepest sympathies to Vicki and her family on the death of their beautiful son, Evan.

You touched many lives. 

You will be remembered as a super hero.

There may be no words, but there is

Sympathy

Heartache

Anger at the Injustice

And Much Much Love

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

Please click here for information on services for Evan and for making a donation to his memorial fund.

No Words

I've always wanted to be the kind of person who knows what to say.  Who is articulate, accurate, eloquent.  This past weekend I was surrounded with (mostly) women who know how to use words.  To tell a story, convey a thought, evoke an emotion, make a point, offer comfort.

One of these amazing woman, a friend, has suffered the most devastating, heartbreaking loss.  And I wish that I had the right words to say.

But all I can think is that I wish I could hold her hand, hug her, offer her my presence, my touch.

Because sometimes there are no words.

Me? Radical?

As the flight to San Francisco landed I heard a woman behind me talking about attending the BlogHer conference.  I thought I recognized someone in Newark before we took off, but I wasn't sure.  Going to BlogHer is like some kind of weird reunion where everyone looks familiar.  Did I meet this person last year?  Do I know them from a photo on their blog?  Or maybe I recognize them from real life and OMG now what do I do?  If I say hi will I be outing myself as a blogger?  Wait, I am at a blogging conference, obviously I am a blogger.  What the hell am I doing here anyway?

The decision to attend this year's BlogHer conference was very difficult to make.  Not that I am that great with decisions anyway, but I really stressed out about how much it cost to fly there, pay for the hotel and the conference fee.  Last year, I felt justified in being there because I had won the contest.  I also felt an obligation to WhyMommy to get the most out of it since she couldn't come.  This year, I initially didn't think it was going to work out.  Matt's Iron Man Lake Placid race was taking place on the same weekend.  But as the months wore on and it became clear that he wasn't going to race (too busy with work to train), I started harassing Matt hinting that I'd like to go to San Francisco.

Finally, Matt said I should go because it was what I really wanted and I could consider it my birthday gift.  I immediately felt so guilty I was sick to my stomach and couldn't sleep.  If I went, I'd feel extravagant.  As if I was wasting his hard earned money.  I don't contribute any money to our family income.  **edited to explain that Matt does not consider his income, "his" money, it is ours.  He does not tell me what I can and cannot spend money on.  We just so happen to not have a lot of money right now, for many reasons.  What I wrote reflects my guilt about not contributing, which I think is a fairly common feeling for SAHMs, especially those that used to make a decent living.  Regardless of how much money we have available, I still have trouble spending it on anything besides house and kid stuff.  That is all.

I am an inconsistent and not very good blogger anyway.  But I followed through, made my reservations.  I don't spend much money in general so I justified this big splurge as an adventure.  There was also a nagging feeling that if I didn't go, I'd be severely disappointed.  Missing out on one of those  life altering opportunities.

The first panel that I sat in on at the conference was MommyBlogging: Is MommyBlogging Still a Radical Act?  When I first saw that Mommy Blogging had its own track, I was excited to hear more about the issues that were touched upon in 2007.  I knew the regular, high profile, MommyBloggers would be there to chime in.  I generally agree with Her Bad Mother and Mom 101 and certainly enjoyed hearing them speak last year. 

As I listened to the discussion I wondered, well, what do I really think?  Is Mommy Blogging a radical act?  Last year I had expected the majority of bloggers to be Political Bloggers, but found out that a good percentage of attendees were actually writing about parenting.  This year the sponsors included Sprout and LeapFrog.  Mommy Bloggers had taken over.  How can the majority be radical?

When I hear people say that they never knew being a mom would be so hard.  That it would suck a lot of the time.  I shake my head.  Were they not listening?  Didn't they have any honest friends or relatives?  I knew plenty about the dark side of parenting by the time Scott was born.  But if new moms were really that clueless, or in denial, than I am glad they have the internet to inform them.

This "lifting the veil" of the ugly side of motherhood, does not seem radical to me.  There are books out there that expose how difficult it can be.

But I do think blogging itself is radical.  Regardless of the topic.  Because blogging is, in its purest form, about capturing the moment.  The immediacy.  About being able to find a post that speaks directly to you at the time you are experiencing something.  And about connecting with the author.  Sharing your story and offering support.  A place for anybody to write about anything.

Especially blogging for someone like me.  I am not a writer.  I have no training as such, having avoided all writing courses in the past, including typing.   But I had a story to tell.  I realized this forum was the perfect, really, only venue, where I could put myself out there and people could find me.

I quickly learned that I had just as much, if not more, to gain from reading what other people wrote.

I don't think of myself as a feminist.  I am a rules player.  I was a business major in college and have towed the line, followed the path through adulthood as expected.  I am not boring, just a regular person.  But I've always dreamed of being part of something more important.  Cutting edge.  A phenomenon that brings the regular people to the forefront.

I am still more comfortable remaining semi-anonymous here in the blogosphere.  I want to write honestly and not be constrained by knowing that people in my real life might read. 

As I was deplaning (a funny word I wanted to work in), I looked for the woman, Kristen.  She was meeting Nina, a real life friend met through blogging.   The BlogHer magic had already begun.  Here were people I didn't know at all that I felt an instant kinship with.  On the BART train we hooked up with the absolutely lovely Flutter.  At every turn there was another person, another meeting.  More on all the people in another post.

Blogging and going to BlogHer lets me mingle with other bloggers, each radical in their own way. 

I get to be the person I want to be.  The one who takes chances.

My own radical.

** If it would just stop thunderstorming here and I could get a decent night's sleep maybe I can write more about the amazing experience of BlogHer 2008.  I am still recovering from my flight back to Newark where I arrived home at 3am on Monday.

Travel Fun

I am already delayed.  Stuck in the Newark, NJ airport waiting for my plane to depart two hours later than scheduled.  I made my husband get up at 4:15am to get me here on time!  So sorry, honey. 

I received an e-mail this morning from my good friend, Barb, who lives in San Francisco, saying that she might not be able to get together today after all.  We had plans to meet up at the hotel and go out to dinner before the People's Party  (oh, shit, I just read that post and I think I was supposed to RSVP) this evening.  Now I will be arriving later and will probably be on my own for dinner.      

I didn't see the kids this morning, but I talked to them on the phone.  All is fine.  They have a lot planned.  Time with Grammy and probably their cousins.  Maybe a trip to the beach.  Scott has a birthday party to go to on Saturday.  They'll barely notice I'm gone.  Right?

I know it is good to get away.  That we all need to realize that we can do it.  If Scott's pjs aren't laid out or I'm not there to set Jane's bed up just so, it will be ok. 

I tried to leave everything in order and write down as much as I could.  Luckily, it is easy to reach me via phone and IM with Matt.  A much as I did do, I am sure I forgot something.  And I won't be there to hug and kiss everyone good night and good morning. 

Last year I wrote this post about what I would and wouldn't miss about being away.  I think I really needed the break then.  This time, I don't feel the same way.  I am enjoying my time with the kids.  I like going to the pool with them and reading Harry Potter to Scott.  Fixing up Jane's hair and giving her a starter push on the swing.  This summer has been full of fabulous moments already and it is barely half over.

And I worry about setting Scott back.  Causing him renewed anxiety as any change in routine seems to do.  But one of the things I am working on right now is pushing him a little.  Making him deal with these unexpected events.  Each one a chance to be more flexible, to realize that he is alright.  I've spent a lot of time avoiding this stuff so as not to cause him any additional problems.  But by doing that I am shielding him from the opportunity to learn how capable he truly is.

As I embark on this year's journey, I will keep that in mind for myself as well.  That stepping out of my comfort zone teaches me, too.  That sometimes you just have to take chances.

I Haven't Even Blogged About It Yet

In my frenzy to be laid-back and enjoy summer, I have, quite obviously, let my blog go.  I haven't been posting, among other things.  And now I am on my way to the big BlogHer 2008 conference.  Oh, I've thought about all the people I want to link to.  Those I met last year and those that I am so excited I will finally see this year.  I've read some posts, like those from last year, about how nervous people are about meeting people face-to-face.  That doesn't stress me out that much.  But I don't like to leave my family.  And I am embarrassed at how little I've been blogging lately.

And I will be among such talented and diligent bloggers.  I feel unworthy.  But I am going anyway, because this is my birthday gift, which I requested. 

A lot of bloggers take a little break while at the conference or find someone to blogsit.  For me, I might actually be able to write something.  Perhaps there will be new content here.  Perhaps.  If I am not too exhausted or don't have a splitting migraine from one drink and the time zone jet-lag situation.  I leave tomorrow very early - my husband is so excited to drive me to the airport at 5am!

More on my big adventure soon.  With links. 

Pinky swear.

The Summer That We Wanted. Yeah, We Finally Got It!

Guess what?  Our summer is going really well.  Really, really, well.  So well that I am almost afraid to admit it for fear of jinxing things.  I know!  I can't believe it either.  I've done so much complaining about summer in the past that I had pretty much resigned myself to another stress-filled 10 week roller coaster.  But, something has happened here.  A perfect mix of maturity and structure that is enabling us all to enjoy these long summer days.

The irony is that a ton of stuff has gone wrong, too.  We've had a bee sting, a badly skinned knee, kids not going to sleep, a late night trip to the ER for an asthma attack, and a renewed fear of fireworks, among many other things.  In fact, just yesterday, I spent an hour on the phone trying to fix a banking problem, then another hour deciphering why my new sensor wasn't connecting to my Nike + account and then, right after she fell asleep, Jane threw up.

All that and the normal summer annoyances, like kids who fight and no time to myself, complaints about what's for lunch and who gets to play at Grammy's, anxiety about new situations.  Sunscreen.  Bugs.  The list goes on and on.

But none of that matters because what we do have is a typical summer.  Kids who swim and play with other kids.  Who can entertain each other and themselves.  Enough of a routine to keep things sane and plenty of flexibility to have fun. 

It is as if the atmosphere in our house has changed dramatically.

For years now I have been frantic and anxious.  Wondering how to get through each day, worried about what new challenge would come up.  Take last summer for example, Scott wouldn't put his head back in the water and Jane wasn't potty trained.  I spent all summer stressing that he'd never make it through a full day of school in first grade and she'd never be able to start preschool still in diapers.

And all I'd hear from everyone around me was, "Aren't you glad to have time with your kids?  They will be grown up soon enough and you will miss them.  You should enjoy summer when you can relax."  Except summer never felt relaxing at all.  It was more about me trying to figure out how to get a break from the kids and how to get them to comply as it seemed they should.

The other day I was chatting with one of the moms at the playground next to the pool complex and I admitted that this summer is finally like I had always hoped it would be.  I was explaining how Scott is now, after three previous summers at this same place, going in to swim lessons on his own.  How Jane plays with other kids and barely even looks for me. 

As we talked, the mom confided that she understood all too well.  That her older, twin boys, had spent two years in an autistic support class.  That she knew what I meant when I explained how I had felt self-conscious.  Like all the other moms were wondering either what was wrong with my kid or why I was such an awful parent.

But time and understanding has not only changed the way I look at Scott but it has also allowed me to see myself more accurately.  Just like everyone else.  Doing the best I can.  And because of that, I can now feel comfortable.  I realize that we do fit in.  That summer can be for us, too!

My book group just finished reading Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult.  While it certainly wasn't the best book I've read, I did relate to several of the characters.  In particular I was drawn to the idea that these children of mine, the ones who hug me and tell me they love me 20 times a day, will soon be off in their own worlds.  They will be much more interested and influenced by their peers and will no longer want me to hang out with them.  While I know this is the natural order of things, it pains me to the core.  Suddenly the idea that I am so lucky to have this time with them, to enjoy our summer with lots of free time, becomes crystal clear. 

Perhaps I needed Scott to be in full day school last year to truly appreciate the summer.  As I had suspected, I missed him.  And possibly I also needed to grow up a bit myself, too.  To see that even though racing for certain goals has merit, there are also times when not having high expectations, to just going with the flow, is equally valuable.  Last year I vowed to embrace summer, but I couldn't force myself to do it.  This year it is happening all on its own.

There are reminders everywhere that I should have a tiny baby to care for in addition to these two children of mine.  That this summer was also supposed to be about welcoming a new member to our family.  My heart hurts when I see sweet newborn babies.  But then I refocus and look at my kids.  The ones that are sporting tans and sun-bleached hair.  Who are begging me to play with them. 

And I feel fortunate once again. 

To be their mother. 

To have this time. 

To create these memories for them and for myself.