Finally Tossing the Cap and Gown

   With parenthood, and all the extra “stuff” that accompanies a child, I feel as if I am in a perpetual state of cleaning.  Cleaning up and cleaning out.  Used to be, I did big clean-ups a few times a year.  Now, cleaning is just a perpetual process.

   Back during summer vacation, I wrote a post for MomsLA about my goal of finding one item each day to get rid of.  Here’s the link to the essay in case you missed it:  http://momsla.com/summer-clean-7-things-live-without/

   Honestly, I don’t always get rid of something every day, but I find that I’m at least looking every day.  And on days when I do take a forgotten box down from the high shelf in the closet, I find several items to get rid of.  Sometimes, they are things I had no memory of and was therefore not needing.

   A few days ago, it was my cap and gown from high school graduation that made it to the donation pile.  I don’t think I’ve worn the ensemble since that June day twenty years ago.  And without any hesitation, it was very easy to look at the gown, finger it for a quick minute, and discard it.

   At the time, high school was just a stepping stone; it got me to college which would get me to my teaching career.  And although I didn’t know it at the time, the most beneficial part of high school was meeting the man who would one day become my husband.  (In case you’re not familiar with our story -- we were classmates and met during our junior year English class at Fairfax High School.  It wasn’t until my last semester at community college that we started to date).

  It’s funny in a way; I had held onto that cap and gown for twenty years and through two moves, but now it just didn’t seem important to me to keep it any longer.  I was able to see that cap and gown as just an unnecessary bit of clutter, taking up valuable closet space.

  Generally, I’m a sentimental person.  I tend to hold onto certain things because of the memories attached to them.  Yet, I’m discovering that as I get older, my memories, and their related mementoes, become re-prioritized.  Which ultimately leads to cleaner closets.

Promises to Myself

   In the spirit of the new year, I’ve decided to write about my beliefs.  Some of my beliefs also happen to reflect “promises to myself” -- a term I prefer to “resolutions.”

I believe the size of my pants isn’t as important as how I’m feeling while I wear them.  These past few years, my weight has yo-yoed quite a bit.  Most frustrating has been my lack of control when it comes to my weight.  One medication caused significant weight gain, and my levels of pain make walking (my primary source of exercise) quite difficult.  But the tag inside my pants is just a number, and that number doesn’t really matter.

I believe I am surrounded by magic and wonder.  Trips to Paris and Hawaii are highlights of my past and goals of my future, but it doesn’t negate the fact that here, in my own corner of the world, I am surrounded by magical, beautiful things.  The moon, as seen from my dining room window, shines down on me and I am in awe that twelve men have walked on the surface of the moon.  I delight in seeing hummingbirds visiting my patio plants, and remember the six years I lived in an apartment without an outside patio.

I believe taking care of myself has to be one of my priorities.  This has been a hard lesson for me to learn.  Used to be, I took care of everyone else and paid attention to my own needs when it was convenient (which means it didn’t always happen).  I may not be teaching any more, but one of my new jobs is taking care of myself so that I can take care of others.

I believe a lot can be accomplished in five minutes.  I don’t always have the uninterrupted time or the required energy to tackle big projects -- cleaning out the refrigerator, going through the boxes stored on the top shelf in my closet.  But I can usually find five minutes to wipe off some of the shelves in the refrigerator or open up that mysterious box inside the closet to determine if the contents should still be kept.

I believe marriage doesn’t necessarily get easier the longer you do it.  Next month, my husband and I will celebrate our sixteenth wedding anniversary.  With that longevity comes danger -- the danger of not trying, of taking each other for granted, of not paying attention.

I believe I am beautiful, and my son is the proof.  I’ve always been very good at finding fault with my looks, at being overly self-critical of myself.  But I look at my son.  His long eyelashes.  His deep brown eyes.  His full smile.  In his handsome manner, I recognize my own beauty.

Let It Go

   One of my son’s favorite Christmas gifts this year was the movie Frozen.  And if you’ve watched that movie, you know the song “Let It Go.”  For me, that song took on a different meaning in the days before Christmas.

   Shortly before Christmas, I became incredibly ill (stomach-wise) after dinner one night.  My husband took off work to be home to care for me and our son.  On day one, I didn’t do much but sleep and nibble on a few crackers.  On day two, I actually got out of my pajamas, ate a couple of corn tortillas, but I still needed to rest a lot.

   It’s not easy for me to be home and not be able to actively participate in my family’s activities.  After all, I’m usually the one who goes grocery shopping, takes our son on his weekly library visits, prepares meals, and reads our son a bedtime story.  (My husband took care of all that).

   On day three, when I began to feel slightly like myself again (meaning I got dressed, was actually a bit hungry, and felt strong enough to stand) I realized that these days when I was sick shared similarities to the days when I was a teacher and called on a substitute to cover my class.

   When I was a teacher, procedures and routines were firmly in place in my classroom.  A lesson plan was prepared, and a substitute was always left with all necessary paperwork and materials.  But I was never there to see what went on.  I found out when I returned.  My students would tell me about the substitute who just gave answers to math questions, or the substitute who skipped a math lesson entirely.  

   Here at home, when I was awake, I was around to observe my “substitute.”  I can say that, like in my classroom, the routines at home are firmly in place too.  But it still wasn’t easy to lie back and let my husband step up and do things his own way.  And there was nothing I could do about it.  My son was fine, and was actually loving all his extra time with Daddy.

   I learned I had to “let it go.”  I can’t control everything, and I can’t do it all -- as much as I try.  It’s a lesson I need to carry with me into the new year.

           Wishing my readers a radiant new year.  May we enter 2015 with courage, hope, and love.

Happy Holidays!

   We do the December holidays differently in our family.  For starters, we’ve got a Christmas tree in one corner of the living room and a menorah on the dining table.  Growing up, my parents’ different religious upbringings were acknowledged by celebrating both Chanukah and Christmas, but with our own family adaptations.  We never said prayers when lighting the menorah, and we received a gift only on the first night of Chanukah.  Christmas morning, a multitude of gifts waited for us under our artificial tree.  Christmas Eve dinner was often ham and potato latkes.  

   As a parent now, I continue my parents’ traditions with some adaptations of my own.  We have a real tree each Christmas.  And this Christmas Eve, lasagna is on the menu.  

   My husband and I have tried very hard not to make the holidays all about gifts.  I think we’re doing a good job of it since last year, at the age of five, my son made his first request of Santa -- a rocket that would launch into space.  (Santa brought a bunch of surprises instead).  This year my son asked Santa for the movie Frozen, and I feel confident that Santa will recognize my son’s year-long efforts to remain on the nice list.

   When it comes to gifts for my husband and myself, we don’t exchange gifts for Chanukah, and we set a budget for Christmas gifts.  (This year it’s $50).  We share some “wish list” items with each other, and let it go from there.  For us, the gifts are a nice bonus but it’s more about us being together to celebrate and appreciate our family and home.

Wishing my readers a holiday that is merry and bright, full of love and laughter!

The Princess Problem

   On Sunday, my family and I were invited to the Disney on Ice Let’s Celebrate show at the Staples Center.  My six-and-half-year-old son was over the moon.  And for me, the best part of the show was watching Ryan’s reactions.  Jaw dropped.  Eyes opened wide.  Whispers of, “wow!”  He was a joyful audience member which made the show worthwhile for me.

   I’m not a huge Disney fan, and not a huge fan of animated movies in general.  In fact, I think it is very telling of my personality that my favorite part of the show was the act that involved “brooms” reminiscent of the Sorcerer’s Apprentice.  The skaters were dressed as brooms and performed some clever choreography.  I was captivated.  

   But, a little while later, there was an act involving Minnie Mouse wondering how she would know when she found her prince.  Sitting through this act was a test of my patience.  Of course, no female can find a prince unless she has on the proper gown so cue the Fairy Godmother.  Then, Minnie needed advice from some other Disney princesses.  We saw Jasmine, Ariel the Little Mermaid, and Cinderella all happily gliding across the ice with their perfect Prince Charmings.

   And all I could think was -- what a crock!  2014 and we’re still telling little girls that the need to be rescued by a Prince, they need a gown to be lovely, and that all will end happily ever after.  I know, I know -- this is fiction and I’m probably over-reacting.  But still, it seems there are so many little girls (and grown women) walking around with these illusions regarding love and romance.

   From my experience, after almost sixteen years of marriage, I can say that my husband did not “rescue me” (if anything I think it’s safe to say I rescued him).  It wasn’t love at first sight for either of us (we first met back in high school when we were classmates in an English class our junior year).  And once we got together, it hasn’t been happily ever after.  In fact, there have been times when we’ve each wondered what we were doing and wondered how we had ever thought our relationship was a good idea.

   But it’s all because my husband and I came together and found our “ever after,” that we have our son.  And it’s our son who helps us keep things in perspective and constantly reminds us about what magic and love are really about.

Melodious Discord

   Do you remember that Coca-Cola television commercial featuring the song “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing”?  The ad featured multicultural singers, standing on a hilltop, singing in “peaceful harmony,” and of course each one was holding a soda bottle.  Here’s the link to the video in case you want to refresh your memory:

http://www.coca-colacompany.com/videos/coca-cola-commercial-id-like-to-teach-the-world-to-sing-in-perfect-harmony-bc3546193171001

   I’m thinking about that song because several years ago, another teacher and I chose it for our classes to sing at our school’s annual holiday show.  We were looking for a general, feel-good song that didn’t specify one winter holiday over the other.  We chose “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing”, a song most of our students had never heard of before.

   It’s a song I confess to having on one of my mixed-CDs I listen to in the car.  It’s a feel-good, do-good type of song, and driving around the streets of Los Angeles, music like that can only help during trying commutes.

   I’m thinking about this song now especially because it is the holiday season.  And there are so many disparities that I just can’t make any sense of.  Some people are excessively buying, spending money on gifts and extravagances.  Some people are burning down buildings and marching onto freeways.  Some people are sleeping on streets and digging through dumpsters searching for food.

   It’s all these vastly different human experiences I’m having a hard time making sense of.  And, I’ve been thinking.  Maybe we’re aiming too high.  Maybe we shouldn’t be after “perfect harmony.”  After all, I tell my son there is no such thing as perfection.  We’re all supposed to be just going through each day, trying our best.  Maybe instead of “perfect harmony,” we should be aiming for “melodious discord.”  Disagreements and differences are okay, as long as they’re kept peaceful.

   As much as I may want to, I know I can’t change the world.  But I can build a home and “furnish it with love.”  

By the way, here’s a link to the lyrics of the song and a Youtube video of a performance of the song:

http://www.oldielyrics.com/lyrics/the_new_seekers/id_like_to_teach_the_world_to_sing.html

Pumpkins and Presents, Turkeys and Trees

   Usually, nothing Christmas-related happens in our home until after Thanksgiving.  I firmly believe that Thanksgiving, a day which is all about family and expressing gratitude, should not be disregarded or overlooked at all.  

   I have been boycotting the radio station that started playing Christmas music several weeks ago.  And our Christmas decorations are still stashed away in our upstairs closet.  

   But, this year I’ve made a few exceptions to my own rules.

   I’ve learned that the key to enjoying holiday preparations is planning early and doing early.  So this year, during my son’s week-long Thanksgiving break, we visited Santa.  It was a very mellow experience, with no crazy lines or wailing babies.  My son chatted with the jolly man, made a few gift requests, and took an adorable picture.

   Also during my son’s week-long school break, we started wrapping holiday presents.  My mom has taught me to Christmas-shop year-round.  So, while I’ve been out and about, I’ve picked up some gifts along the way, and those were the gifts we wrapped.  My six-and-a-half year old is pretty competent when it comes to wrapping presents, as long as we’re using teamwork, and I’m in no hurry to get it done.

   It’s been somewhat disconcerting for me, to have a pumpkin on our coffee table while also having a roll of snowman-themed wrapping paper propped up in the corner. 

   But now it’s December, and there’s no denying that the holiday season has arrived.  

           Cue the Christmas carols!