Sandra Tayler's Blog, page 137

Seeing Gleek clearly for the first time in weeks

Gleek entered the kitchen with a purposeful stalk. I worried that somehow the play with friends had gone wrong and she was angry.

"You okay?"

She looked at me, and her face transformed into calm interest. "Just thirsty." She answered.

I watched her grab her cup and fill it with water. Her hair was windblown, but not rat's nest tangled. Her clothes marked with the evidence of today's play and stains from games past. Her calm and confident manner of drinking struck me.

In that moment it was as if a film was stripped from my eyes. My brain was stripped bare of all the speculations of how today's behaviors will impact her future. All the parental responsibility and worry peeled off. With a sudden and clear sharpness, I suddenly saw Gleek not as a child who needs to be nurtured into an adult, but as a person with a whole personality and existence right now. I really saw her with her oval face and bright eyes startlingly dark compared to her light hair.

She finished her drink and turned to leave.

"Hey." I said putting my hand out to forestall her departure.

She turned back. And I explained "I think I need a hug." Gleek tipped her head to the side and then jumped into my arms to give me a Monkey hug with both arms and legs. I held her tight and breathed the scent of her. Then she jumped down and dashed back outside to her friends.

I trailed after and watched for a moment out the window. I tried to find words to encapsulate the wordless gestalt I had in that moment of clarity. My child's worth is not measured by her future. She is priceless now. Had someone told me this, I would have nodded and said "of course." It was quite different to have the wordless knowledge resonate through me. To know that I must fully love this person for who she is, despite my ongoing responsibility to help her grow. It is a hard thing. Because in the moment I love a child fully as they are, I am always struck by the knowledge that this person I love will be gone in a year. The nine year old Gleek will be replaced by a 10 year old who will be much the same, but also different. In my heart I hold a small measure of grief for the toddler Gleek who is forever gone.

And so I need to repeat and elaborate upon the statement I made before.

My child's worth is not measured by her future or her past. It is separate from my hopes and fears. She is priceless just as she is.

I want to sear the words into my brain so that I will not forget. And I need to apply the same statement not only to all of my children, but to all people. My love should not be contingent or come with expectations attached. It is a frightening and beautiful thought. I shall endeavor to try.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Link's Clothes

On Sunday morning Link's pants did not fit. They were tight the week before, but this Sunday Link could not make them button. Not even remotely. A flurry of clothes testing determined that he'd outgrown all of his jeans as well. We didn't notice because he wore shorts all week. This kind of growth is not unexpected in a 13 year old boy, but it presented something of a problem only 20 minutes before church. In the end wore a pair of Howard's pants and a belt to cinch in the bagginess.

Pants shopping was imperative. Link had been wanting new clothes anyway. He has decided that the most appropriated attire for junior high school is a red shirt and blue jeans. He declared that I should get him ten pairs of jean shorts, ten pairs of jeans, and ten red shirts. As it was he was wearing the same red shirt and jean shorts a bit too often. I declined to promise clothes in that quantity, but planned a shopping trip.

Most of my kids clothing growing up has been hand-me-down or purchased by me when they were not present. I just don't like taking kids into stores when I need to browse and ponder. It gives them too much time to want things that I don't want to pay for. Link's new-found interest in what he wears meant that it was time to begin involving him in the purchase decisions about his clothing. In the process of walking him through the aisles to select clothes, I realized how overdue his education in clothes shopping has become. He was fascinated and a little confused to realize that I expected him to try on the clothes before we bought anything. After the first set of ill-fitting clothes he could see the importance.

We emerged triumphant. Two pair of jeans, 1 jean short, 2 church pants, and 3 red shirts. It is a far cry from his original plan, but has a chance of actually fitting into his drawers. I love that he is growing up and developing an understanding of the social nuances of clothing and personal hygiene. And we bought the pants a touch long, because then next thing he'll do is grow two inches when my back is turned.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Scheduling next year

About two weeks ago Howard and I took a good look at all the events scheduled for the next 18 months and realized that 2011 is full. When I say "full" I do not mean that we have things scheduled for every week or every month. Some months are entirely empty. However the empty months are either preceded or followed by a decidedly not-empty month. For the sake of our sanity we declared that no big events, such as conventions) could be added.

Our resolve is already being challenged. New opportunities have begun to pop up and we are sorely tempted to add them to the schedule. So I stare at the calendar again to see if the new thing can fit. Next year's calendar has fixed points like conventions we have already committed to, or the family vacation which has a definite date. The calendar also has probable fixed points, which are events we want to do, but have not actually committed to yet. What is not on the calendar are book releases. I know that next year will contain two within the first 6 months, but I do not know exactly where they will fall. This is another reason to keep those empty spaces.

So I stand in front of the calendar and I discuss with Howard. I list the concerns. Howard lists the advantages. We talk about how the new event will affect all the currently scheduled events. We discuss similar events in the past and what would be required to do this one the same or better. It is our little prognostication ritual by which we attempt to peer into the future and decide what is best for us, for the business, for our family. The decisions are not easy.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Finding what I look for

Sometime last week I read a news article which talked about how Justin Bieber had started a fashion trend of bangs swept to the side. I read the article with amusement because I had never seen this particular hairstyle anywhere else. In the week since reading the article, I'm seeing that haircut on heads all over town. I'm pretty sure that the incidence of Justin Bieber haircuts has not increased dramatically since last week. What changed is that I started paying attention and knew enough to recognize what I was seeing. This phenomenon is common and happens to me all the time. I study literature and the world is more filled with literary references. I start researching a certain type of car, or phone, or bicycle, and it seems that everyone else already has one exactly like it.

I'm pondering this today as I consider all the focused attention I've been giving to parenting. I've been looking for areas that need work, and, not suprisingly, I've found them. The truth is that no matter how much I plan, schedule, and work there will always be things I could do better. The more I focus on those things which are slightly askew, the more of them I see. It spirals in closer and closer until the problems obscure the joyful things about my children.

I need to figure out ways to take a step back and get some perspective. I need to back off and see if the problems really are as big and omnipresent as they have been feeling lately. I suspect they aren't. I suspect I am seeing mountains when what is actually present are foothills.

I'll find what I am looking for. I need to make sure that some of what I am looking for are reasons to feel joyful in the amazing children I have.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

The child who is fine 90% of the time

I like reading articulate and thoughtful blogs from mothers whose kids are going through challenges similar to mine. I like knowing that Howard and I are not the only ones who struggle. Today over at wouldashoulda.com Mir said this:

Both Otto and I explained the constant heartbreak involved in keeping him [her son with Aspergers:] okay. The judgment from others, because 90% of the time he looks like every other kid, and when the 10% of situations where he simply cannot keep himself together...

Getting the hang of Saturdays

Nearly the first thing I did yesterday morning was to jot down some notes for a blog entry about how I'm having trouble getting the hang of Saturdays. But the day proceeded and I never had time to write it out. In fact I got all my stuff done in time for Howard and I to escape the house and have dinner with some other local writers. It was a wonderful event full of laughter and good conversation. As a result I wrote nothing at all and left a semi-discouraged note up for a whole extra day ...

Most days can be improved with chocolate

Of late I've been writing lots of fragmentary blog posts, ones that contain many small moments or ideas rather than taking time to give the things full space. In this way the blog is an accurate representation of the state of my mind and my life. Each day is crammed full of things to do and problems to solve. I pack a month's worth of events into each week. Inevitably I lose track of some things. Today I missed yet another visiting teaching appointment. Again it was simply because I...

My day contained all of these things

Building a chronology of my day from the following list is not recommended. I wrote in the order that things fell out of my brain.

***
Link sat up straight in his chair facing the teacher across the table. They were both smiling at the joke Link just made. It was the third teacher we'd spoken to in the chaos of junior high parent teacher conferences. I watched my son with his confident gaze and smirkish grin, startled to see him so obviously in his element. The time I spent worrying that h...

A fragment of writing about last night and this morning

I stood in the kitchen at 11 pm with tasks churning through my head, each clamoring to sit in the front of my brain and be resolved. I leaned on the counter as though it would help me carry the weight of my thoughts. The day had made clear that we needed to restructure some things for Gleek. The plan floated in my brain waiting for implementation on the morrow. It swirled around with Kiki's incomplete math assignment and Link's despised history sentences. Then there was the unending...

Psychology

I have spent far too many hours this afternoon being a psychologist. I have diagnosed. I have researched. I have planned a behavioral modification structures. I have listened to many meandering thoughts as my children unloaded their woes, joys, and random thoughts. When I took psychology in high school it was because the class sounded like fun. I use the knowledge I gained in that class almost every day.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.