The Importance of Rembembering

July 31, 2013 by Leave a Comment

In the hussle and bustle of life, it is so very easy to forget…to get wrapped up in one’s own little triumphs and tragedies…to let go of the gravity of happennings outside one’s own head, own house, own neighborhood. And then there are moments when the bubble is broken…when everything so seemingly important becomes instantly insignificant. Suddenly humility and reflection are the only options. While conducting an internet search for an old work project tonight, I came across this article, these pictures, this video.

Suddenly everything that I thought I needed to accomplish tonight was overwhelmed by a need to stop and remember…to hold in my heart the families that are still mourning, the holes that will never be filled.

Also were thoughts of an amazing community that came together in just 3 short days to hold hands, have hope in what seemed a very hopeless time. When the clouds parted, voices lifted and togehter we dared to dream of something better. I’m still dreaming and hoping and remembering. I know I’m not the only one.

Filed Under: Articles, Crazy Capers, Davis Files, Family Files, Life Outside the Core, Momentating Tagged With: , ,

In Spite of Us

July 1, 2013 by Leave a Comment

Earlier today, I read this blog post about the current controversy surrounding girly Legos. When I read the concerns some parents are expressing, I heard an echo from the distant past and had to wrinkle my nose a little at the remembrance of my high-and-mighty pre-mommy self…the woman who had many theories but no practical information on how this whole parenting thing was about to go down. In my pre-mommy theoretical mind, I used to fantasize that any children who entered MY house would have a gender neutral experience…that girls would play with trucks and boys would play with dolls. I had many self-righteous “My child will NEVER _______ !” thoughts and plenty far-from-reality visions of how things will ultimately work out.

In my pre-mommy mind, I surmised that me and my artist/musician/metrosexual hubby would surely produce sensitive, artsy, calm, dancing children who would spend their days zenfully contemplating life and sensitively caring for others. Boy or girl, I imagined my offspring would be comfortable playing against type and mixing it up with the opposite gender. Imagine my surprise when–in fact–we ended up with a couple of potty-mouthed, wrestling, “Where-the-Wild-Things-Are” frat boys.

Almost seven years into this little experiment called parenthood, I have come to realize that the actual truth about who kids become is this: they are who they are, they like what they like in spite of us. There are girls who love girly things, boys who love boyish things, girls who love boyish things and boys who love girly things. All of that wishing that everything would be gender neutral was a bit unrealistic and naive. Some girls (and boys) just like girly things. Some boys (and girls) like boyish things. There isn’t really a darn thing all the gender-neutral thinking in the world can do about it.

With regard to this particular issue, here is the truth that I have come to understand: it’s not my job to make things neutral or to mold my kids into some preconceived fantasy of what imagined they’d become. It’s my job to DISCOVER who they are and to love them accordingly. It’s my job to make sure they always feel loved and accepted–even when they surprise me. It’s my job to help them understand that lasting happiness can never be achieved by pretending to be something you are not and that life is too short to waste time wishing that folks will be any different than they are. It’s my job to model what it’s like to be open and accepting of all different kinds of folks. Hopefully this will help my rambunctious ruffians to be open and accepting too…even if they grow up to be pirates.

Filed Under: Articles, Current Events, Family Files, Life Outside the Core, Mom-ing, Momentating

Invalidity

June 20, 2013 by Leave a Comment

It has now been 16 days since the crash that derailed–or at least seriously redirected–the summer in the Wisnia house. So much has happened in that short span to shift my thinking about my life and the people in it. For the most part,  I have been overwhelmed by the positivity and love that surrounds us. We’ve scarcely had to cook given the frequent delivery of delicious meals. The boys haven’t missed a single activity thanks to the many who have so graciously descended to give rides here there and everywhere. We’ve had help with shopping and cleaning and occupying the boys so that they don’t feel like they’re missing out even though there’s much that their mommy can’t do right now. Most moments are filled with love and joy and gratitude.

And then there are the other moments…the moments when I feel completely castrated…the moments when all I want to do is climb up into Oscar’s loft to tuck him in or comfort him when he’s had a bad dream but I can’t. There are moments when I think about all that I COULD be doing since I’m home like vacuuming, washing windows, organizing the boxes of accumulated junk in the garage, even simple things like knocking down cobwebs–and then I remember that I can’t. Even something as simple as getting a glass of water is a complicated task these days as I hop on one leg, try to manage crutches, navigate awkwardly around our tiny, cramped house. Some days–other than the obvious reason of escaping my own stench–I am left to wonder why I’m even bothering to bathe. There is nowhere to go, very little to do. These are hard facts for someone like me who is always going, always doing.

There have also been a few demoralizing moments when I have found support sadly lacking in surprising places. It’s hard to feel supported when navigating the bureaucratic purgatory of so many confusing forms and convoluted processes required to get paid, maintain benefits, obtain accommodations. On more than one occasion, I have been made to feel like I am somehow making up or embellishing the truth of my condition to get special treatment. In these moments, I just feel icky and hopeless and shocked. As someone who has been sucking it up and soldiering on my entire life, I am beyond insulted by the implication that I am somehow doing anything short of what is physically possible for me at this moment.

I am terrified that I may never run again. I am heartbroken to hear Boris say that he wishes he had a mommy who didn’t have a broken foot. I am deflated when simple things that used to take seconds take minutes, hours, or worse–aren’t even possible to accomplish right now.

I am bolstered by the fact that I WILL get better. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for the many many people who must face the truth that their particular accident has caused damage that can never be repaired, will never get any better. As stated–for the most part I am nothing short of grateful for all that has happened since I’ve been laid up. I’m grateful it it was my foot that was smashed–not my head or my neck. I am grateful that healing is possible.

Still, the not-so-fluffy moments are real and important to acknowledge and remember too. I think that this time will help me to have so much more compassion going forward. I have been forever changed both by the immense love we have experienced and the few bits of indifference/lack of compassion we have experienced. I will forever remember how I definitely DO and definitely DON’T want to make people feel in their moment of need. At times like this, there is enough darkness to overcome in one’s one mind. Nobody who’s truly hurting should be made to feel like they have to prove the extent of their hurt to anyone. Nobody should be made to struggle to feel valid when they are convalescing and already struggling against their own feelings of invalidity.

Filed Under: Family Files, Mom-ing, Momentating, Running, Wife-ing

As Is

June 3, 2013 by Leave a Comment

“As is.” It’s a phrase used to describe something that—while not perfect—might be worth something anyway. It implies damage—not the irreparable kind but damage nonetheless. The clear implication is this: if you’re looking for perfect, this isn’t it; if you’re looking for something that could be beautiful if given a chance…this one’s worth a shot.

When talking about wedding vows with a friend recently, this phrase came to mind. Anyone who has bounced around in the sea of life long enough to be thinking about wedding vows has undoubtedly garnered a few scrapes and dings along the way. The marks and scars of all that has come before are there—even when said marks can’t be seen with the naked eye. We’re all “As is” in one way or another.

When Chris and I wrote our wedding vows almost a dozen years ago, we started with this: “I embrace you…with all your quirks and imperfections.” We promised to stick it out even on the tough days…to hang together through all the unknown but inevitable changes, scrapes, challenges, dings that were yet to come. Though we saw the existing damage, anticipated more bumps ahead, we also saw the potential and rolled up our sleeves to work hard at creating something lovely.

Both in and out of the romantic context, I am lucky to have a heart, a life is filled with wonderfully, interestingly damaged people. We all bear the marks of the good and bad that has come before. Together we persevere. Despite flaws and foibles, fears and failures, we strive to know more, be better…to keep opening our hearts and minds again and again in hopes that THIS time we’ll get it right. Even with so many imperfections, we see the beauty, the potential and we embrace one another with all of our quirks and imperfections. We gratefully, unconditionally accept one another “As is.”

Filed Under: Momentating, Wife-ing

A Letter for Later RE Boston

April 16, 2013 by Leave a Comment

April 15, 2013

Dear Boys,

Perhaps you noticed that Mama’s not quite herself today. I’m a little sad…a little impatient. For reasons you don’t know and can’t yet understand, I am out of sorts. Today, two bombs ripped through Boston and tore through my heart. Today, a boy—just a little older than you lost his life simply standing on the sidelines cheering for his dad. His mom and sister will never be the same. In what should have been a moment of such triumph, so much was lost.

I couldn’t help but think of all the times that you boys have stood on the sidelines with Daddy cheering me on for so Finish Linemany races. Grandma couldn’t help thinking about that too. With cracked voice, she called just as I was putting you boys to bed to express how very happy she was that I hadn’t been running that particular race…that you and Daddy hadn’t been the ones holding the signs…standing in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The pain of parenting is just too overwhelming at times…loving someone so ferociously from your core and knowing, being reminded that you can’t always protect them…knowing, being reminded that with the freedom to experience beauty and joy and adventure comes the risk that something terrible could happen out there in the big, wide world. Sometimes I am almost suffocated by the knowledge that there is so much outside of my control when it comes to you boys. That knowledge perpetually pulses beneath my skin. On days like today, it comes screaming to the surface.

So, years from now, when you look back on the days in your childhood when Mama wasn’t as patient as she should have been…when the tolerance for brotherly bickering was nonexistent, know that THIS is what that was all about: I need to know that even when I’m not around to love you that you will at least try to love each other…even when I’m not around to protect you that you will at least try to protect each other.

In the best of circumstances, the time we get to be here is far too short. Please spend your time loving, laughing, helping. Make sure your time here is joyous. Forgive each other and forgive your Mama for the times when she just couldn’t bear to see you fight. Have adventures, experience beauty and when something ugly happens… thank all the beautiful people who are trying to make it better, BE one of the beautiful people who is trying to make it better.

Love You Madly,

Mom

Filed Under: Crazy Capers, Current Events, Momentating, Running

Writing/Purging…Sort of the Same Thing

March 14, 2013 by Leave a Comment

Over the years, I have had many people say things like, “How do you find the time to… (write, run, bake, volunteer…etc.)?” I have even had one individual repeatedly say (and undoubtedly others think) that they can’t believe I’m still employed. It is beyond their comprehension that it might actually be possible for me find the time to be active on social media, blog, run, bake, vollunteer AND still manage to do a competent job in the office. Admittedly–like every mom on the planet–it IS difficult to keep it all afloat most days. There are definitely days when a few things can’t be saved and end up sinking to the bottom of the lake. In fact, there are many days when I feel that I am definitely drowning and taking everything with me.

Here’s the rub…those days when I am feeling completely submerged are the days when I NEED to write, run, bake, volunteer (etc.) most of all. It’s not even really a choice for me. When you’re truly a writer (or runner or baker or volunteer)…doing said activities are the ONLY things that center you…that make it possible for you to focus and get on with your day. Take writing for example…allowing so many thoughts to swirl around in my head without writing them down is DISTRACTING. It’s kind of like feeling nauseous but not making time to get to the toilet. Those who need to write understand this phenomenon. I’ve talked with lots of them about it. Only after we’ve “purged” all those swirling thoughts do other things even seem possible. Perhaps it’s not like this for every writer but it’s definitely this way for me. The honest to goodness truth is that what I post is only a fraction of what I’m actually writing down, thinking about.

And so…the next time you wonder, “Where does she find the time?” think about the things that you do to refocus, center, process. Most of us have things that we MUST do because it’s who we are. These things are not really choices and denying ourselves the time to do them is like holding in the bile, constantly feeling nauseous. Wouldn’t it just be better to let it out so you could feel better and get on with the rest of your day? Wouldn’t you do everything else better if you did?

Filed Under: Momentating

Gift of Fear: The Gift that Keeps on Giving

March 12, 2013 by Leave a Comment

Years ago, I read a book that changed my life. I was coming out of a period of living in real and perpetual fear. I had made it to safety but I didn’t feel that way yet. I had developed this hypersensitive neurotic dread that made me constantly afraid that something terrible was about to happen. Later, I would realize that what I really had was a version of PTSD and I would be treated accordingly. During those dark days when I was constantly fighting my own unreasonable fear, the only book I read that gave me great comfort was The Gift of Fear by Gavin de Becker. This book helped me to start seeing fear as a gift that has been given by nature to keep me safe. It helped me to see fear as friend rather than foe. I still remember the lessons I learned from that book and feel safer for having read it. I think it’s an important book and recommend it to anyone who wants to live a more secure, aware existence.

Filed Under: Momentating, Reviews

Temper Tantrums

March 5, 2013 by Leave a Comment

I’ve decided that most human beings are programmed to start tantrumming around age 2 and–after a period of tantrum decline–ramp up again every decade or so thereafter (i.e., around 12ish, around 20ish, around 30ish, and so forth). I firmly believe that what most of these tantrums are about is the constant push and pull between staying the same and changing. Something deep within us yearns to both cling to our younger selves and to mature…to stay where it’s safe and boldly go where we’ve never gone before.

At 2, part of us wants to be a baby…to be held and cuddled and comforted forever…part of us wants to be independent and separate. At 12, part of us wants desperately to continue pleasing our parents…part of us wants to garner the favor of friends. In our late teens/early 20s, we still want access to mom and dad’s checkbook but we want to make our own decisions, live by our own rules. At 30, we still want to look like we did at 20…have that energy, that body…but we wonder why we haven’t yet accomplished every single one of our “important” goals (e.g., finishing school, making babies, buying our dream house, REALLY making it!, etc.).

And so…at 41…here I sit in the wake of my latest tantrum…fighting ferociously against the inevitable sag and lines that are indicative of 4 decades of (sometimes hard) living while still trying to enjoy tea with my blissfully-aging inner yogi. I’ve done much pondering about what kind of mark I’m supposed to be leaving on the world. I’m pushing and pulling between the woman I want to be now and the woman I want to become before I die…preserving all that has come before while laying the foundation for continued possibilities. As I desperately grab the hands of both my younger and older selves…terrified to let go of either one…I hope that the people I love will forgive the occasional tantrum and will have the good grace to just ignore me until I calm down, figure it out, and move on.

Filed Under: Momentating

Stephen Colbert on Gun Control

February 28, 2013 by Leave a Comment

It takes a special kind of genius to simultaneously cause both laughter and deep thought about the most serious of topics. This is perhaps the best piece on gun control I’ve seen yet. Thank you, Stephen for–once again–explaining it all in a way that everyone can appreciate and understand. Stephen Colbert on Gun Control

Filed Under: Current Events, Momentating

2013 Oscars: A Few Thoughts About Gender and What’s NOT Funny

February 26, 2013 by Leave a Comment

I have been quite surprised by the amount of serious debate and discussion that has been sparked by something as light and fluffy as the Oscars. Who knew that this annual glitter fest would ignite so much passion about gender inequity? When a friend posted this thoughtful article, it resonated with me. I re-posted said article and have been gratefully surprised by the conversation that have ensued…the personal realizations that have resulted. So…here are my thoughts…

While the old adage: “It’s funny because it’s TRUE!” may accurately describe many topics, there are so many issues that I have difficulty thinking of as “funny.” For example, I think I’d be hard pressed to laugh at any joke about starving children, rape, or genocide. Some of life’s truths are just too painful to be funny. Thanks to the thoughtful discussions prompted by Seth MacFarlane’s performance at the Oscars this week, I think I will be adding “misogyny” to the list of topics that I personally find very unfunny.

First, let me state that I DON’T hate Seth MacFarlane. I think “Family Guy” is nothing short of genius. Having said this…I DON’T think that his jokes about women’s breasts, mistreatment by boyfriends, eating disorders, and men dating inappropriately young girls were funny or appropriate. I think these things very sadly represent how devalued women STILL are in many segments of our society.

Because I grew up in a home where women where shushed when the game was on, where I was told over and over that only men should be in positions of authority–it’s hard for me not to take stuff like this to heart. I spent too much of my life struggling to find my worth, to believe that I deserve equality and respect. So I apologize if I’m just not able to “lighten up” and laugh along on this particular occasion.

As the mother of two boys, I take very seriously my responsibility to teach them that women are humans with hearts and brains to be valued rather than empty vessels to be objectified. There are many things in the world that are TRUE but (at least in my opinion) are NOT funny. I guess the objectification of women and jokes about said objectification are categorized–at least in MY brain–as “NOT FUNNY.” Because I believe in democracy, it’s truly OK with me if others don’t share my opinion. I fully recognize that my reaction is coming from a very deep personal place. I hope that those who don’t agree can see where I’m coming from and perhaps even believe that my perspective is legitimate–even if they don’t happen to share it.

Filed Under: Articles, Current Events, Momentating
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