I choose to cook.
You can’t do everything for your children and your family. It is impossible to cook homemade meals, clean a house, do yard work, help your children with homework, do laundry, do dishes, play with your children, take care of yard work, and have time for self-care. The solution for the modern parent is to simply not do all of these things.
Diana takes on a lot of these duties, many she shares with me, and a lot of other stuff like yard work and house cleaning we pay others to do for us. One thing that I chose to take care of myself is cooking. Many people eat out or take out more often than we do, not because they are bad people, but simply because they choose to take care of their lives, and their families in different ways than I do.
Almost every day I will cook at least one dish. If the meat and starch is leftovers I might roast some broccoli. Three of four times a week I cook a full meal. Sometimes this might include boxed macaroni and cheese, but more often than not I’m cooking most of the meal from scratch.
Often Diana is around to keep the kids out of the kitchenm but many times I’m managing cooking dinner while watching the kids. So here are some tips I’ve figured out over the past six years on how to cook with children around.
1. The Oven Is Your Friend
If you’ve got a little one who is insisting on being held, putting them down in a play pen for ten seconds to slip something in and out of an oven is a lot more effective and safer than trying to hold them (or let them scream) while sautéing something in a pan. If I know I’ve got needy kids on my hands, dinner is roast chicken thighs, roast broccoli and baked sweat potato time. Yes, the stove-top faster, but the oven allows you to not need to actively pay attention to the food, when you need to actively pay attention to your children.
2. Time Everything
When I’m cooking without my children around, I don’t really feel a need to set timers. I can keeps multiple times in my heads to for different dishes, and I have the ability to check on the progress of food. With kids are involved, my ability to keep track of time completely goes. The only times I’ve ever come close to burning food is when I’m cooking with my children around. So, I run multiple timers, even for a time as short 2 minutes. I’ll keep a timer my phone, on the microwave, and an egg timer while my children refuse to let me pay attention to the food.
3. Prep Whenever You Can
There’s a lot to do around the house after your children go to bed, but if you can spend some time prepping it can make a world of different. Cooking with needing to worry about chopping, slicing, and dicing is a whole different process. You can hold a baby in one arm while you put in prepped ingredients into a chili, but you can’t hold a child and chop at the same time. Parboil potatoes, marinate meats, chop veggies, and measure out spices. The closer you can get to basically have meal prep kit level of readiness, the easier it will be to cook with children.
4. Go With Plan D
I can be a pretty stubborn cook sometimes. When I set my mind to doing something a certain way in the kitchen, I often don’t want to compromise. However, with children around, sometimes you just have to change you plans. That may mean you go with a frozen veggie instead of fresh. Or you start a stew, realize that your children simply will not give you the time and space to cook so you order in a pizza. There’s no shame in holding off on that amazing salmon dish until lunch the next day, if you have to go with plan D to get your family fed.
One of the ways that mother expressed her love to me was through cooking. This is something that I do for my family. Sometimes my children appreciate it more times than others. It can very stressful, and sometimes it doesn’t feel like it’s worth it. However in this crazy world, it’s one thing I can do for my children, one part of their day I can control. Someday they will realize how I showed them love through food, but for right now knowing I'm doing right by them with the food I put on their plate is enough.
Monday, September 30, 2019
Friday, September 27, 2019
Year 10: Week 4 - Relationships
There are so many things that make a school special, that make it a place where students feel welcome, safe, see, and known. As children do more of what we say, then what we do, one of the most important ways to ensure that our students have a great school is that the adults value each other, and their contributions.
I have very different relationships with the adults at my school. All of them are colleagues, and peers. Some are on the side of the spectrum in which we know each other’s names and are cordial with other but that’s it. There are those in the middle of the spectrum with whom we share friendly encounters. And there are friends, real friendships. Some of them are more situational, friendships that are formed and nurtured because we work together and then there are the friendships that have extended beyond the work place.
This past week there have been moments that have reminded me how important these relationships are, and much they mean to me at this school.
There’s the 3rd grade teacher who refers to students and adults around the school as “friend.” She makes a point to do this in front of the children so that they see that she values her relationships with other people. I saw on the other end of the of an empty hallway talking towards me, and as she approached me, she said “good morning, friend,” and with a smile and a nod, it was clear that this wasn’t about putting on a demonstration for her students, she was truly acknowledging me as her friend.
Sometimes a five minute conversations can feel much longer, not because it dragged on but because of the power of the connection during such a short encounters. This was a chance encounter. We don’t see each other very often, but we have always expressed respect to each other. I asked her how this year had been going, and instead of giving me a polite short answer she opened up about some of the struggles in her family that I see mirrored in my own experience.
Then there was the activity in our faculty meeting. It was an exercise in exploring listening skills and empathy. We partnered up and were asked to share a memory of doing something for the first time. One person told the story while the other person listened and took notes for the purpose of retelling the story at a later time.
When we were asked to partner up none of us really thought too long about it and just paired up with were near us. As we settled down to share, it occurred to me that the person I was sitting across from was one of the first people I met at this school ten years ago. This was a person I shared challenging times, enrichment time and hilarious times with at this school.
This experience, the stories we told each other in the frame of this exercise were shared as friends. What I told her I wouldn’t have told to every person at this school, and perhaps this was the same experience for her. It was a moment of personal sharing, of colleagues learning from each other, and fostering a friendship that is one of the reasons that this space is so special.
Yes, this is personal, and powerful for myself, but it’s also about my students. Students may not explicitly understand the relationships between their teachers, but they can feel it in the interactions between adults, the way teachers share the space in the school.
It’s worth it to stop and spend a couple more minutes socializing with a colleague or taking a chance to get to know someone you don’t know as well. In doing what we expect our students to do, we are helping creating an atmosphere for our children to succeed. Also working on relationships remind us of the effort and work that we ask our students to do every day as they move through their day and create a community of friends and learners with their peers.
I have very different relationships with the adults at my school. All of them are colleagues, and peers. Some are on the side of the spectrum in which we know each other’s names and are cordial with other but that’s it. There are those in the middle of the spectrum with whom we share friendly encounters. And there are friends, real friendships. Some of them are more situational, friendships that are formed and nurtured because we work together and then there are the friendships that have extended beyond the work place.
This past week there have been moments that have reminded me how important these relationships are, and much they mean to me at this school.
There’s the 3rd grade teacher who refers to students and adults around the school as “friend.” She makes a point to do this in front of the children so that they see that she values her relationships with other people. I saw on the other end of the of an empty hallway talking towards me, and as she approached me, she said “good morning, friend,” and with a smile and a nod, it was clear that this wasn’t about putting on a demonstration for her students, she was truly acknowledging me as her friend.
Sometimes a five minute conversations can feel much longer, not because it dragged on but because of the power of the connection during such a short encounters. This was a chance encounter. We don’t see each other very often, but we have always expressed respect to each other. I asked her how this year had been going, and instead of giving me a polite short answer she opened up about some of the struggles in her family that I see mirrored in my own experience.
Then there was the activity in our faculty meeting. It was an exercise in exploring listening skills and empathy. We partnered up and were asked to share a memory of doing something for the first time. One person told the story while the other person listened and took notes for the purpose of retelling the story at a later time.
When we were asked to partner up none of us really thought too long about it and just paired up with were near us. As we settled down to share, it occurred to me that the person I was sitting across from was one of the first people I met at this school ten years ago. This was a person I shared challenging times, enrichment time and hilarious times with at this school.
This experience, the stories we told each other in the frame of this exercise were shared as friends. What I told her I wouldn’t have told to every person at this school, and perhaps this was the same experience for her. It was a moment of personal sharing, of colleagues learning from each other, and fostering a friendship that is one of the reasons that this space is so special.
Yes, this is personal, and powerful for myself, but it’s also about my students. Students may not explicitly understand the relationships between their teachers, but they can feel it in the interactions between adults, the way teachers share the space in the school.
It’s worth it to stop and spend a couple more minutes socializing with a colleague or taking a chance to get to know someone you don’t know as well. In doing what we expect our students to do, we are helping creating an atmosphere for our children to succeed. Also working on relationships remind us of the effort and work that we ask our students to do every day as they move through their day and create a community of friends and learners with their peers.
Monday, September 23, 2019
Parenthood: Week 337 - Quality Time
Ollie jumped from rock to rock along the shoreline.
Only a couple minutes earlier he was carefully holding my hand as he navigated the gaps between the large stones that made up the Northwestern University lakefill. The fall air warmed us gently upon us last Saturday morning as I felt the gently wind off of the lake. Ollie got further and further away from me and for a moment I wondered if he still felt my presence. Then he paused looked back and happily yelled, “daddy.”
Ethan has started Kindermusik class at Northwestern three weeks ago. We’ve been going to campus together for the Saturday morning class. Diana takes Ethan into the class and I’ve been spending time with Ollie on the lakefill. We’ve taken our scooters around and explore the shoreline, and the had the opportunity to spend some time together.
People talk about this idea of “quality time.” One of the compromises of modern parenting is that sense time is often limited with our children, we try to make ourselves and each other feel better by repeating the idea that “it’s not about the quantity of time we spend with our kids, it’s the quality of time.” It’s a nice thought and while I don’t disagree with the idea of quality, there does need to be a certain amount of quantity to build any relationships, and for time to actually be quality. Yes, an hour with your kids when you are distracted by your phone isn’t as meaningful as half an hour when you are actually paying attention to your kid, but why can’t we just have an hour without the phone?
Anyways…
After dropping Diana and Ethan off, I put a timer on my phone so let us know when we had to head back without checking my phone. We followed the path to the lakefill. Explored the rocks and ran around the weeping willows. Underneath one of these trees was a campfire. I showed Ollie how to take the ashes to scrap him name into the stones. We returned to this spot and threw these rocks into the lake and watched the ripples travel across the calm water.
There were times that we talked, and other times when we were silent. Sometimes he told me what he wanted to do and other times I gave him suggestions. Sometimes we would be close holding hands, and other times Ollie was far ahead in the distances. No matter how far away he got, he knew I was there, and even though we didn’t talk, we were sharing something meaningful beyond words. At times I didn’t know what to say to Ollie so I just let the silence sit between us.
Quality time are times when life is hard. When tears come and tantrums occur. The important and meaningful times are not always on beautiful days. Sometimes they do happen on days likes these when forty minutes and each other is all we need to experience what makes life meaningful.
I have to say that I'm proud to know you
And I’ll never be the same because we met
You might not miss this
I will.
Friday, September 20, 2019
Year 10: Week 3 - Features And Flaws
One of the most important lesson my therapist, the late Nancy Good taught me was the path to happiness and contentment in your relationships is acceptance. If you are annoyed that your partner leaves dirty dishes out on the table after dinner and your feelings of annoyance are your problem. Yes, your partner can change their behavior, and perhaps they should but if you nag them and get them to change, you will eventually find something else about what they do that will annoy you.
True acceptance is essential in a relationship and that includes accepting flaws. Only by addressing them as a way to help to help your partner, not in an attempt to deal with your own feelings of annoyance, can you help your partner learn to be better person. Only by learning to accept perceived flaws and letting go of our own feelings of negativity, can we truly build healthy and meaningful relationships.
I’ve been thinking about my relationship to my school. How am I building and development my relationship with my school in a healthy and productive way? The answer I’ve landed on in the past couple weeks is to work on acceptance, take responsibility for my own negative feelings, and figure out what are flaws and what are features at my school.
There are imperfections, and things that feel like they should work better at any organization. Some of these things can be improved, these are flaws. Some of these things that seems gratuitous are part of the way an organization work. These things are features, parts of how things work.
Features at my school are conversations that seem to have year after year, personality quirks in colleagues, and ways of working that on the surface do not seem the most pragmatic. After ten years, it’s become clear to me that many of these things will never change, or if they do, these changes aren’t going to come from me. So, I can get annoyed about these things, or just accept them, and see how they come from places of positive intention and really aren’t that big a deal.
Then there are flaws, things that we can and need to address. The problem is that it’s not always clear what are features and what are flaws. Sometimes accepting things as features feels like giving up, but it’s more often a way to move on through a day with a more positive attitude.
People change, leadership evolves, and the culture of a school can change. There are times when features become flaws that can be addressed. The energy and creativity to correct these issues will be available because the institution hasn’t been drained by negativity.
Flaws are challenges, and opportunities for growth. Features are who we are, things that from one angle look like problems. However, from another angle these features are expressions of individuality, diversity of thoughts, and what makes our school special.
True acceptance is essential in a relationship and that includes accepting flaws. Only by addressing them as a way to help to help your partner, not in an attempt to deal with your own feelings of annoyance, can you help your partner learn to be better person. Only by learning to accept perceived flaws and letting go of our own feelings of negativity, can we truly build healthy and meaningful relationships.
I’ve been thinking about my relationship to my school. How am I building and development my relationship with my school in a healthy and productive way? The answer I’ve landed on in the past couple weeks is to work on acceptance, take responsibility for my own negative feelings, and figure out what are flaws and what are features at my school.
There are imperfections, and things that feel like they should work better at any organization. Some of these things can be improved, these are flaws. Some of these things that seems gratuitous are part of the way an organization work. These things are features, parts of how things work.
Features at my school are conversations that seem to have year after year, personality quirks in colleagues, and ways of working that on the surface do not seem the most pragmatic. After ten years, it’s become clear to me that many of these things will never change, or if they do, these changes aren’t going to come from me. So, I can get annoyed about these things, or just accept them, and see how they come from places of positive intention and really aren’t that big a deal.
Then there are flaws, things that we can and need to address. The problem is that it’s not always clear what are features and what are flaws. Sometimes accepting things as features feels like giving up, but it’s more often a way to move on through a day with a more positive attitude.
People change, leadership evolves, and the culture of a school can change. There are times when features become flaws that can be addressed. The energy and creativity to correct these issues will be available because the institution hasn’t been drained by negativity.
Flaws are challenges, and opportunities for growth. Features are who we are, things that from one angle look like problems. However, from another angle these features are expressions of individuality, diversity of thoughts, and what makes our school special.
Monday, September 16, 2019
Parenthood: Week 336 - To Make You Feel My Love
“Oh, he’s so cute, I want to keep him.”
“Well, go ahead, here’s the diaper bag…”
It’s not the best joke, but it happens every so often me and my friends make jokes about our kids going home with other parents. It’s never serious, and sometimes the other person keeps it going. These jokes are always in the spirit of “your kid is wonderful, I can almost imagine taking him home, but of course I will not.”
I noticed the last time I made this joke, Ollie rushed over to Ethan and grabbed his arm. The way he moved and the held onto Ethan it was clear that he was worried that we would actually let Ethan go home with this other family. I assured Ollie that Ethan would go home with us and he relaxed and let go of Ethan.
It’s been wonderful to watch Ethan and Ollie’s relationship develop. The relationship is becoming more expressive and mutual as both of them are getting better at showing affection to each other.
Ollie was and still is a hand-holder. He willingly and without hesitation will hold my hand walking down the street or when we are watching television. Ethan is not. He will pull his hand away from my hand in parking lots and doesn’t often let me lead him by the hand (even though he is more than happy when I carry him). The one person Ethan lets hold his hand is Ollie. Ethan will do his toddler run up to him, grab his hand, and let Ollie lead him as they hold hands.
Ethan still hasn’t figure out the kissing thing. He presses his open mouth against your face. There’s a lot of slobber involved, but Ollie doesn’t seem to mind. He’ll let Ethan try to kiss him and he’ll kiss him back. Sometimes in a silly way and often in a peaceful way. Even if it’s silly with giggles, I can tell that there is something meaningful going on there.
At times Ethan will walk over to Ollie for a hug. Ollie will let Ethan lean on him and he will hold them. Sometimes this because more of a wrestling match then a hug, but even when it devolves, it’s cute. They aren’t trying to hurt each other, it’s not that kind of wrestling. It’s more about rolling around and tickling.
There are moments of screaming and frustration between these two, but there are also the quiet moments, when Ollie and Ethan are playing together. Sometimes it’s more about them sharing space and other times it truly is interactive.
Ollie tries to do a lot for Ethan. He’s Ethan’s translator, his guide, his friend, and his brother. Ethan sees Ollie as someone important, someone he wants to be like, and in his admiration, there is love. I'm proud of how both of them have embraced their roles as brothers and I'm excited for our little one to join them in this brotherhood as this duo becomes a trio.
“Well, go ahead, here’s the diaper bag…”
It’s not the best joke, but it happens every so often me and my friends make jokes about our kids going home with other parents. It’s never serious, and sometimes the other person keeps it going. These jokes are always in the spirit of “your kid is wonderful, I can almost imagine taking him home, but of course I will not.”
I noticed the last time I made this joke, Ollie rushed over to Ethan and grabbed his arm. The way he moved and the held onto Ethan it was clear that he was worried that we would actually let Ethan go home with this other family. I assured Ollie that Ethan would go home with us and he relaxed and let go of Ethan.
It’s been wonderful to watch Ethan and Ollie’s relationship develop. The relationship is becoming more expressive and mutual as both of them are getting better at showing affection to each other.
Ollie was and still is a hand-holder. He willingly and without hesitation will hold my hand walking down the street or when we are watching television. Ethan is not. He will pull his hand away from my hand in parking lots and doesn’t often let me lead him by the hand (even though he is more than happy when I carry him). The one person Ethan lets hold his hand is Ollie. Ethan will do his toddler run up to him, grab his hand, and let Ollie lead him as they hold hands.
Ethan still hasn’t figure out the kissing thing. He presses his open mouth against your face. There’s a lot of slobber involved, but Ollie doesn’t seem to mind. He’ll let Ethan try to kiss him and he’ll kiss him back. Sometimes in a silly way and often in a peaceful way. Even if it’s silly with giggles, I can tell that there is something meaningful going on there.
At times Ethan will walk over to Ollie for a hug. Ollie will let Ethan lean on him and he will hold them. Sometimes this because more of a wrestling match then a hug, but even when it devolves, it’s cute. They aren’t trying to hurt each other, it’s not that kind of wrestling. It’s more about rolling around and tickling.
There are moments of screaming and frustration between these two, but there are also the quiet moments, when Ollie and Ethan are playing together. Sometimes it’s more about them sharing space and other times it truly is interactive.
Ollie tries to do a lot for Ethan. He’s Ethan’s translator, his guide, his friend, and his brother. Ethan sees Ollie as someone important, someone he wants to be like, and in his admiration, there is love. I'm proud of how both of them have embraced their roles as brothers and I'm excited for our little one to join them in this brotherhood as this duo becomes a trio.
Friday, September 13, 2019
Year 10: Week 2 - Piece Of The House
I didn’t sign up to be a teacher to be a performer.
There are aspects of teaching like reading a book aloud, and when I sing a song to my students which are very much performances. However, this isn’t the same as when I used to get up on stage during recitals, concerts, or march in football games in the marching band as a performer. In those moments the performance is about sharing art, but it’s not about teaching. For me those performances were more about my own personal gratification then when I read a book to a class of students. I love doing both, but it’s a different feeling. Performing in the role of a teacher is less about me then performing in the role of a performance artist.
My goal as a teacher is to do as little as possible during a student performance. If I can get away with standing at the back of the auditorium and the students can perform a whole song, then I’ve done my job. Student independence is an amazing thing to watch that fills me with so much pride as an educator.
As a music teacher in a school community, there are times when I’m called on to perform, and I more often than not avoid these situations. I’ll usually try to elevate some other faculty member to be featured, or I’ll have students be a part of a performance for an occasion. I’m good at what I do, but this school is not about me. It’s about the community and most of all it’s about the students.
Here’s the thing, I do love performing and moments when I do get on stage and perform for the student body, I really enjoy. When people compliment me, I am gracious and try to present some kind of aura that it’s not that big a deal and that performing isn’t something that is important to me. It’s funny, one of my colleagues, always calls me out on this. She sees through my fake humbleness and sees how much I enjoy this part of the job. I feel like I’m in denial a little bit about this because I don’t want to be that person who takes up too much and space and air time. I am in positions all of the time in meetings and on stage to have my words be heard and I just don’t want to overdo it…and at the same time, I need to embrace what I enjoy and just go for it.
We had a teacher who led a chant at our opening assembly, kind of a call and response hip-hop flavored song. Since he retired six years ago, we’ve had other people try to do it, groups of faculty, and even some students and it never really clicked. I never put myself in the position to do it, rather trying to involve other because in a way it felt easier to deny my desire to own this moment, while in reality it was creating a unproductive internal conflict.
So this year, I dove it, told people I would do it, which surprised some. It was awesome, so much and I’ve been hearing from all corners of the community how much they appreciated me leadership and my performance. It feels great and it doesn’t feel like it was too much about me. It was a gift that I could gives something I could give to the community.
That moment on stage was a reminder that being a performer can be as much about the audience and it’s okay for me to get up on stage and do my thing. There are moments when we need to step aside and let others lead, but there are moments when it’s okay to take the stage for your community. I don’t regret trying to give this space to others in years past, and I don’t regret taking this moment for myself this year.
There are aspects of teaching like reading a book aloud, and when I sing a song to my students which are very much performances. However, this isn’t the same as when I used to get up on stage during recitals, concerts, or march in football games in the marching band as a performer. In those moments the performance is about sharing art, but it’s not about teaching. For me those performances were more about my own personal gratification then when I read a book to a class of students. I love doing both, but it’s a different feeling. Performing in the role of a teacher is less about me then performing in the role of a performance artist.
My goal as a teacher is to do as little as possible during a student performance. If I can get away with standing at the back of the auditorium and the students can perform a whole song, then I’ve done my job. Student independence is an amazing thing to watch that fills me with so much pride as an educator.
As a music teacher in a school community, there are times when I’m called on to perform, and I more often than not avoid these situations. I’ll usually try to elevate some other faculty member to be featured, or I’ll have students be a part of a performance for an occasion. I’m good at what I do, but this school is not about me. It’s about the community and most of all it’s about the students.
Here’s the thing, I do love performing and moments when I do get on stage and perform for the student body, I really enjoy. When people compliment me, I am gracious and try to present some kind of aura that it’s not that big a deal and that performing isn’t something that is important to me. It’s funny, one of my colleagues, always calls me out on this. She sees through my fake humbleness and sees how much I enjoy this part of the job. I feel like I’m in denial a little bit about this because I don’t want to be that person who takes up too much and space and air time. I am in positions all of the time in meetings and on stage to have my words be heard and I just don’t want to overdo it…and at the same time, I need to embrace what I enjoy and just go for it.
We had a teacher who led a chant at our opening assembly, kind of a call and response hip-hop flavored song. Since he retired six years ago, we’ve had other people try to do it, groups of faculty, and even some students and it never really clicked. I never put myself in the position to do it, rather trying to involve other because in a way it felt easier to deny my desire to own this moment, while in reality it was creating a unproductive internal conflict.
So this year, I dove it, told people I would do it, which surprised some. It was awesome, so much and I’ve been hearing from all corners of the community how much they appreciated me leadership and my performance. It feels great and it doesn’t feel like it was too much about me. It was a gift that I could gives something I could give to the community.
That moment on stage was a reminder that being a performer can be as much about the audience and it’s okay for me to get up on stage and do my thing. There are moments when we need to step aside and let others lead, but there are moments when it’s okay to take the stage for your community. I don’t regret trying to give this space to others in years past, and I don’t regret taking this moment for myself this year.
Monday, September 9, 2019
Parenthood: Week 335 – Long Time Coming, Part 3
So much was better with this new house. My mom had a kitchen that suited her culinary creativity, and my dad had his own space on the bottom floor. There were neighbors who were friends that would come over and do the neighbor things like come over for a beer, and share baked goods. These were small things but were elusive at our other house.
Things first started to feel different when one of the neighbors had her first child. This was the first baby I really spent time with and this was when where I finally came to understand something important about my mother. She is that person at a wedding or family event that always finds a baby and has one on her hip. In this little one’s grip, bright eyes, and cooing sounds I felt that magic. I remember sitting on a couch and having this baby be put in my arms. She was so warm, so fragile, and so beautiful. As I stood up holding her, there was a weightlessness, a feeling that in my arms I had an enormous responsibility, I was holding everything.
Babies are possibility, hope, beauty, and the most wonderful kind of mystery. Holding a baby is what taught me that true strength in life is how we support others, stable, solid, gentle, caring and strong all at the same time. I believe that if we can hold each other up like we hold babies, much of the world’s problems would disappear.
I have a feeling my mom feels the same way.
This was the house where Diana got to know parents and feel connected to my family. They welcomed Buffy into this house. It may seem odd to have brought Buffy along with us to this house for the past decade, on almost forty plane flights, but it makes perfect sense when you know how loved and cherished her presence was in this house by my parents.
This house was the place where I met my nieces for the first time. And this house was place where my children, surrounded by love, incredible food, and family, developed love for my parents, which has had a profound effect on them in their journey of learning to love themselves.
As the years past, more memories of my children and my nieces' running footsteps and squeals of delight filled the space inside of myself that I held this house. My parents insisted that this was a place of play for their grandchildren, so they filled the house with toys in almost every room: a drawer in the kitchen, a section of the buffet, and well, half of the living room.
My parents worked hard, constantly to make this a place where their grandchildren could be children, and could have the space to explore the world, and feel what it meant to be a family.
They were successful.
Before I knew it, the time we spent in this new house eclipse the time we spent it what was my childhood home. The twenty years in this new house, versus the eleven years in our previous home. The years have filled this place in my heart, and given it shape. It’s a shape that’s hard to describe, but impossible not to feel. It’s the shape of gratitude, of something gained, and of something unforgettable
Our last night in this house, I held Ollie as I said goodnight. Close to tears, I told him that I was sad that we were no longer going to visit this house. Ollie replied, “I’m sad too daddy, and sad is okay.”
We talked about what we liked about this house, and what we would miss. I reminded him that this place was wonderful because of his grandparents and the new place would be just as great. I also assured him that my childhood toys, my parents kept, would also be in the new home we would visit.
I held him in silence, feeling in concert all that we were going to miss. Ollie has made me feel better with his laughter and smiles his whole life, but this was the first time his sadness an empathetic reflection of my emotions made me feel less alone and validated about all that I was feeling.
The next morning in the rush to get ready to leave for the airport, I made sure to find a moment, as Ollie suggested the night before to help him write a note to the house to say goodbye.
I am proud of my parents. Through sheer will, hard work and determination that created places I could call homes. In doing so, they taught me make homes out of the places in my life spending energy on the place itself, but more importantly on making the people inside feel seen, valued, and loved for everything that they are and everything that they will become.
Things first started to feel different when one of the neighbors had her first child. This was the first baby I really spent time with and this was when where I finally came to understand something important about my mother. She is that person at a wedding or family event that always finds a baby and has one on her hip. In this little one’s grip, bright eyes, and cooing sounds I felt that magic. I remember sitting on a couch and having this baby be put in my arms. She was so warm, so fragile, and so beautiful. As I stood up holding her, there was a weightlessness, a feeling that in my arms I had an enormous responsibility, I was holding everything.
Babies are possibility, hope, beauty, and the most wonderful kind of mystery. Holding a baby is what taught me that true strength in life is how we support others, stable, solid, gentle, caring and strong all at the same time. I believe that if we can hold each other up like we hold babies, much of the world’s problems would disappear.
I have a feeling my mom feels the same way.
This was the house where Diana got to know parents and feel connected to my family. They welcomed Buffy into this house. It may seem odd to have brought Buffy along with us to this house for the past decade, on almost forty plane flights, but it makes perfect sense when you know how loved and cherished her presence was in this house by my parents.
This house was the place where I met my nieces for the first time. And this house was place where my children, surrounded by love, incredible food, and family, developed love for my parents, which has had a profound effect on them in their journey of learning to love themselves.
As the years past, more memories of my children and my nieces' running footsteps and squeals of delight filled the space inside of myself that I held this house. My parents insisted that this was a place of play for their grandchildren, so they filled the house with toys in almost every room: a drawer in the kitchen, a section of the buffet, and well, half of the living room.
My parents worked hard, constantly to make this a place where their grandchildren could be children, and could have the space to explore the world, and feel what it meant to be a family.
They were successful.
Before I knew it, the time we spent in this new house eclipse the time we spent it what was my childhood home. The twenty years in this new house, versus the eleven years in our previous home. The years have filled this place in my heart, and given it shape. It’s a shape that’s hard to describe, but impossible not to feel. It’s the shape of gratitude, of something gained, and of something unforgettable
Our last night in this house, I held Ollie as I said goodnight. Close to tears, I told him that I was sad that we were no longer going to visit this house. Ollie replied, “I’m sad too daddy, and sad is okay.”
We talked about what we liked about this house, and what we would miss. I reminded him that this place was wonderful because of his grandparents and the new place would be just as great. I also assured him that my childhood toys, my parents kept, would also be in the new home we would visit.
I held him in silence, feeling in concert all that we were going to miss. Ollie has made me feel better with his laughter and smiles his whole life, but this was the first time his sadness an empathetic reflection of my emotions made me feel less alone and validated about all that I was feeling.
The next morning in the rush to get ready to leave for the airport, I made sure to find a moment, as Ollie suggested the night before to help him write a note to the house to say goodbye.
I am proud of my parents. Through sheer will, hard work and determination that created places I could call homes. In doing so, they taught me make homes out of the places in my life spending energy on the place itself, but more importantly on making the people inside feel seen, valued, and loved for everything that they are and everything that they will become.
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