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Posts Tagged: moments

Viva La Fiesta 2010 Edition

I love Fiesta (okay, more properly called “Old Spanish Days” but known by locals simply as “La Fiesta” or just “Fiesta”). Not just because it is a week-long excuse for the entire city of Santa Barbara to shut down and party, but because it is a tradition. Oh, how I love and live for traditions!

Tonight, as we walked back to our car from the Mission, confetti in our hair, sounds of Mariachi drifting alongside us, the crush of humanity all around, smells of tacos and churros in the air, I thought this thought, “This will be years and years of happy memories for Anna! THIS!” I love that: to know that we are creating something that she can turn over in her mind’s eye. The sights, smells, foods that she will remember with nostalgia. The activities and events and places that she will carry on forever in her heart.

Good friends, as there always are.

The sun shining down on us as we chow on Mexican food, as always.

And the fog drifted in, as it always does and we turned for home, tired and content, knowing that this is just the beginning.

Viva La Fiesta!

every day life — 2 Comments
2
Aug 10

We are so small

We took a hike up to Las Positas Park last week. Anna looked down at the city spread all around and below us and remarked, “We are just very small people, right, Mama?”

Wow. We really are, aren’t we? All of nature spread around us, and all those buildings and cars and houses and people walking around and doing all the things that people do. We are so small.

I like that feeling, sometimes. That feeling that we are just these tiny, tiny things, these miniscule ants parading around and talking in these voices that feel like shouts but are the mere whisperings of the wind. It feels good to me, to remember this. To remember that the birds and the canyons and the ocean and the wind remains wild and free and that we are no more and no less than small people. That doesn’t feel like an insult to me, a worry, a feeling of insecurity. It feels like an enormous relief. It feels like there isn’t something out to get me, like this is all just–all of this, all of life–happening because of nature and biology and the inevitabilities of life. It does ‘t make it any less amazing. If anything, it makes it even more astounding that we are here. Us! Tiny little us! Here living and moving and loving and breathing and doing the best that we can.

Cancer — 3 Comments
16
Jul 10

Contrite

Sometimes the universe conspires to show you that perhaps you need to take a second look at your attitude. Yesterday, directly after I hit publish on that last entry, I bumped into the woman in question, who wholeheartedly and sweetly invited us to a social gathering. She went out of her way to do this, to invite me specifically. And I felt like the universe gave me a nice, swift kick in the rear.

I almost pulled my last entry down. That’s how bad I felt about maligning her and her good intentions. Damn my insecurities and frustrations: she was only trying to help. It doesn’t necessarily make it right–I do genuinely wish that people would learn the appropriate things to say and not to say when talking about so called “delicate topics,” but….still.

I am not going to delete that entry because it still stands as the way that I was feeling in the moment, but let the record show that I am feeling contrite. That I see that forgiveness is the better path, that sometimes you just need to let it all roll off your back, smile, and let it go.

Plus, as I lay in my acupuncturist’s office yesterday, having cupping done to my back, I started giggling at the absurdity of me being offended by alternative therapies. Ha! It’s not like I haven’t done my fair share of things that some people consider a bit “out there.” I do still heartily believe in modern medicine, but there are a lot of things out there that may certainly be complementary and supportive of physical health in general. I don’t know that I would rely on them for a “cure” (ok, I do know, I would not), but that’s not to say that I haven’t tried them or wouldn’t be willing to. My acupuncturist wants me to give up cane sugar. Oh, SUGAR! Damn. Raw foods, here I come (j/k).

Ok, enough for now.

Love, love, love. Still working on practicing what I preach. XO

P.S. Thanks, to those who commented, on your loving support. I honestly cannot tell you how good it felt to read those words. : )

every day life — 1 Comment
6
Jul 10

34th Birthday, take two

Had more fun than I thought possible today, despite the fact that the beginning of the day was conspiring against me (female troubles, RAIN?????!!!!, late to get Anna to school)…..the rest of the day was gravy: long walk with Adam on the (drizzly but still gorgeous) beach, coffee, lunch on the sand, afternoon run, snuggles around a fire (seriously, I cannot remember a single birthday of mine in my entire LIFE that was this chilly!), then dinner out.

Oh! Plus! I got presents!

Somehow I kinda sorta forgot (forgot? is this a sign of my advanced age?) about the presents thing. I mean…I knew there might be presents. But it was SO not my focus this year (I mean, not like when I was a kid and I could hardly sleep for the excitement of waking up in the morning to New Stuff) that it felt like a really incredibly amazing special surprise to see things that people picked out for me, just for me, just to celebrate me! Pretty cool.

My mom and Adam totally weirded me out by both, independently of each other, buying me the exact same thing (heart shaped waffle iron). The present itself is not weird, no not at all (I’ve secretly been coveting one for a while to round out my waffle iron collection), it was just kind of bizarro that they would both get me the same thing. They love me enough to both know how much I would love that exact thing, I guess!

But, well, you know, it wasn’t all about the presents. I feel this year, more than any year in my life, that (sorry, cheesy writing alert) it is a gift to just be here. To be alive. What a gift! I felt a little teary today when I thanked my mom for giving birth to me 34 years ago. What a wondrous thing: to breathe, to move, to smell the damp earth and see the green things grow and feel the love of people around oneself. It’s the best thing I could think of, just to be here.

XO to all of you, my loved ones. I’m lucky to know you.

Cancer / Family / every day life — 3 Comments
28
Jun 10

Especially Ordinary

Had such a productive day today. The me of 2 years ago (when Anna was 6 months old) cannot even fathom having such a day as I had today. I got up early (by my own choice; I know, I’m crazy) and baked bagels and canned apricots and ate breakfast and took a shower and drove snacks to Anna’s school (the parents rotate turns bringing snacks for all the kids) and then went to the grocery store. All this by 10 am. I know, I rock.

And then we had a great lazy beach morning/early afternoon. I only had to break up one preschooler physical altercation and clean up one pee pee accident (sometimes she gets distracted playing and doesn’t want to stop for the potty and who can blame her for that!??!?). I got to hold babies and talk with my girlfriends and it was really, really awesome.

I came home and baked a cake and made gelato while Anna helped by breaking up the chocolate into chunks and then washing the dishes….washing them really, really well for an hour. Okay, so it wasn’t so much washing as it was playing and splashing and pretending in the water but that was ok because she was content and so was I.

It’s just….a good day.

Sometimes, I tear up at the thought of this, the everydayness of this kind of day. The beauteousness of doing things that make me happy. The smallness of fingers playing with playdough, the smile and laughter, the ordinariness that is so ordinary and yet so special. These are the moments I treasure and these are the moments that make my heart clench a bit because…what if? What if there are less of these moments than I thought? The fear is there, right behind the sweetness.

I don’t live in the fear but I am acknowledging it just the same. None of us know how many days we have here. Not a single one of us. So. It’s all we can do: to be, to breathe, to savor, to smile, to laugh, to hug, to kiss, to love. To live.

every day life — 5 Comments
23
May 10

List

Visit Paris

Write a book

Be declared “cured” of cancer in 2011

Get a tattoo

every day life — 1 Comment
13
May 10

Tourist Town

We live in a tourist town, that’s for sure. Sometimes it can get annoying, the people gawking at the Courthouse or driving crazy slow by the Mission (this one in particular irks me as it is on my route to get to Anna’s school so I drive past it a lot). Sometimes it’s funny, like watching the tourists from the Midwest (no offense guys, we locals just find this hilarious) try and take a dip in the ocean on a foggy morning in June (we don’t do that around here, unless by we you mean a surfer in a wetsuit–definitely no splashing around in bathing suits until it is a hot, hot day in summer and then the water feels cool and refreshing rather than bone-chillingly freezing), or (man, this happens all the time and it cracks me up!) when someone with an obvious accent drives by me as I am taking a walk in my neighborhood and asks if they are close to [insert really far away thing here--like the wharf or the Natural History Museum or Goleta Beach].

On days like this? When the sun is shining and there is a slight breeze and it smells of orange blossoms and jasmine? I thank the powers that be for bringing me here. There is a reason people visit here and it is not all about the architecture. It’s just….life feels easy when you are just 5 minutes from slipping your toes into the sand. When the garden grows year-round. The air here is different. Cleaner. Refreshing. Everything feels more clear.

I love this town.

Family / Marriage — 1 Comment
5
May 10

Yesterday, on Mission Street

As I drove Anna to school yesterday, there was a car in front of us that only sort of pulled over to the side of the street. I slowed down, curious whether the driver was experiencing car troubles or ? and saw this scene: woman in driver’s seat, man in passenger’s seat. Both yelling, crying. Heated argument.

I flashed back to years (a decade?) ago, in a car (our blue BMW sedan). Me in the driver’s seat. Adam in the passenger’s seat. Monrovia, California. Just a couple of blocks from our house. Heated argument. It was one of those moments that, in retrospect, feels like a make-it-or-break-it moment. The moment upon which the world turns. Things were spoken: ugly, terrible, un-beautiful things that could never be taken back. Words meant to hurt, to sting, to break. Unforgivable words.

And yet…..and yet. These words were forgiven (eventually). The wrongs were made right.

There was never anything that was really and truly awful, except that, somehow, it was. So young, so innocent, so optimistic we were. And it felt, for a while, like we were drowning. That it was all too much: too much work, too little fun. Too many of those words, those raised voices and heated arguments in cars.

It got better. It got way better.

Somewhere along the way, I’ve let some things go. Learned to take it easy (a bit), forgive, try not to point fingers. Learned to try and have fun. Learned the ebb and flow of love and living together.

Undoubtedly there will be words, there will be raised voices and questions and arguments in cars (and at home and other places, too).

But.

How grateful I am to not be in that car yesterday, but, instead, to be riding high on my memories of recent times together–memories punctuated by kisses and holding hands and meaningful conversations (the deep, soul-baring kind) and a general feeling of being on the same team.

My new lease on life is also a new lease on love, it sometimes feels. Every minute a minute to be grateful for, not to be taken lightly. This here, this now–these, all of these moments, moments that I wasn’t sure I would have. Washes of panic over the future (because who knows what it holds?) drowned out by delight in the present.

Yesterday, on Mission Street, I saw my past. Here, right here and now, I see my now. And, good golly, I think I like it.

every day life — 2 Comments
4
May 10

Post-vacation non-blues

We got home late last night from our cruise and today I’m jetting from thing to thing to thing: laundry and baking and putting things away and fetching groceries and all that good stuff that constitutes the aftermath of vacation. As I pulled away from the dry cleaners this morning, racing to get home so that I could pop my rising bread in the oven, I had the realization that, for once, I am not having a post-vacation blue day–you know, where you feel overwhelmed by life, by the transition from carefree to having the weight of the world (ok, household) on your shoulders?

Partly I think this is because this vacation, while wonderful and relaxing, was also work because we were, after all, vacationing with a three year old. A three year old who has her, ahem, difficult moments. A lot. She was sweet and wonderful (for the most part) but it is a hell of a lot more work vacationing with her than without her. So maybe less of a transition coming home?

Also, come to think of it, I have to admit that I like the immediacy of the here-and-now, of being needed and necessary and doing these tasks that are not completely without stress, but that take some doing, that have some end point, that make life continue to go on. I like that. I feel useful.

So…..today I am not blue.

Family / Parenting / Travel — 2 Comments
19
Apr 10

NO and YES (and some skiing, too)

Finally back home tonight, finally sitting down on my very own couch in my very own house. Feels like heaven. I had one of those drives back home that was just so stupidly awesome, for no particular reason. Just the way that the sun was setting, the way that the hills were outlined all inky black against the fading light. It was just so right. Lisa Loeb the perfect accompaniment. Anna fell asleep after fussing that “you keep waking me up! Take me home NOW so I can sleep in my OWN bed!!” (Umm, nope, I wasn’t really keeping her up, just encouraging her to go ahead and go to sleep if she felt tired!).

We were in Mammoth to do a little spring skiing this weekend and boy howdy was it ever a lot of work. Anna, wonderful and dearly beloved child that she is, was being an absolute terror, for lack of better descriptor. Really and truly. Adam, AKA the most patient parent on the planet, actually escalated his voice (you know it is serious when the voice gets raised because I swear to you that he never ever raises his voice–he has never yelled at me, not ever). We were those parents at the lodge at Mammoth–the ones trying to reason with the child that is flailing and screaming. I took Anna into the bathroom (prior to taking the lift up the first run, to get her to pee to avoid the whole “we’re up at the top of the run and now she is crying that she has to pee right now” thing) and when we came out (pee trip unsuccessful, despite my pleas and physically attempting to force her onto the toilet) and when we came out Adam asked me if I was beating her in there (answer = no, though it was only through sheer force of will and the fact that there would be so many witnesses around). The screams. Oh, the screams.

She didn’t want to wear a shirt under her ski bib (nothing like a half-naked child standing in the snow crying to make one look like a terrible parent).

She didn’t want to wear socks.

She didn’t want to put on ski boots, or skis (the helmet she liked as it featured fluffy white polar bears).

She did NOT want to wear her sunglasses or ski goggles (we fought about this one all weekend as it was bright and sunny and glarey with all that snow)

She didn’t like the snow (too slippery, too icy, too scary).

She wanted her own ski poles (nope, not going to happen).

So…there was a lot of screaming, because much of the above is not optional when skiing is involved. We didn’t want to back down and say, oh nevermind, because I knew, I just knew!, that if we did that then she would never go skiing and Adam’s dream of having a ski partner would be dashed (I will ski with him but my skill level is so below his that it is ridiculous. I ski runs called things like “Hansel and Gretel” while he skis runs called things like “super duper insanely difficult run with lots of jumps and bumps that is super steep and just might kill you”). So we forced her. It sounds mean but I really mean this when I say that I truly believe that it is for her own good. I see myself in her, this tendency to freak out about trying new things and I am hoping that we can help get her over that hurdle for some of these things because chances are that they are not as bad as she fears.

And!

As soon as we got on that lift and got all tucked in and ready, our poles crossed in front of her lap like an erstwhile safety belt (yikes, just the thought of her tumbling off of that thing still makes my heart stop beating), she smiled! And laughed! And that continued for the next hour or so as we made our slow way down the easy and intermediate runs. She liked it! She really did. (Of course, what’s not to like about having someone else do all the hard work–she held on to Adam’s legs while he coached her to stand up straight and hold on tight). It was sweet, it was awesome, and I’m glad we made her do it.

And then we had chocolate glazed doughnut and hot chocolate. And made snowmen and snowballs and watched people ski and snowboard.

And it was mostly pretty terrific except that she still tended towards the difficult – extremely difficult end of the scale. NO! she would not help clear her plate from the table. NO! she would NOT go in the bathroom and brush her teeth at bedtime. NO! she would not go to bed or put away her clothes or stop touching things in the cabin that did not belong to us. And on and on. It feels terrible, all of these NOs and NOs and NOs. I start wondering what it is that we are doing wrong. Are we doing things wrong?

All I know is that we are trying our best. We are doing what we can do to try and raise this child responsibly and lovingly and we are only doing our best. It has to be enough.

And I keep getting surprised, in the midst of all the NOs at the things that are YESes. YES she would love to eat that new food she’s never tried before. YES she will snuggle up and read stories together. YES she will be amazing at sitting in the car for many, many hours all cooped up when her legs would rather be running. YES she will give her Daddy the biggest squeeze and kiss when we drop him off at LAX this afternoon for a short business trip. YES and YES and YES and then….maybe? Maybe we are doing okay after all? And that goofy grin, that excitement over her very own snowman, a snowball that Daddy made her, the fact that “The Crow!” (as in backyard crow from home, I swear that this is a firm belief of hers) followed us to Mammoth! Those tiny skiis, those little gloved hands clinging close to her Daddy–all of these are too precious to bear, too wonderful and amazing and I know that, in the end, they will overshadow the NOs and I hope, oh I hope, that they will be all that I remember of this trip that was trying and tiring but also altogether good.