Osmosis

Last night we were sitting at the dinner table. Addie turned around and started pointing at the letters on her high chair, and proceeded to count to 14. Sean and I thought it coincidentally sounded like the actual numbers until she reached 6 and it became clear she was really counting...and then we looked at her agape until she counted to 14 and then went back to 6. She didn't miss a single number or count them out of order up until then. We don't practice counting with her, Gillian doesn't practice counting with her....we have absolutely no idea where this came from, and never heard her do it before that moment. The only thing we can think is that she's getting it from Elmo's world. All I know is that Addie reached this point more than 4 months sooner than Gillian did. Maybe Addie will be the engineer of the family. You never know.

I went to get the video camera, but by the time I turned it on, she was done entertaining us with her tricks and was on to playing counting games with Gillian, which she had never done before tonight either. Huh.

Peace be with You

I'm about to get all philosophical on you.

As I become a parent-and it is definitely a process of becoming and expanding your identity to include some weird, independent extension of yourself-I find myself in some swirling emotional vortex that will surely result in change within. There is this thought in my head that I have been praying for change, and as is his custom, God answers these requests in interesting ways-ways that often don't resemble what we thought the answers would look like at all. A couple of months ago, I felt really overwhelmed. Addie wasn't sleeping-STILL-and neither was I. I felt really unbalanced and adrift. I felt down and in a rut. I felt like I had to dig deep to find anything to give anyone, and I felt like everyone around me expected me to give until I was completely bone dry (looking back, the focus on "me" was exactly the problem). Obviously, when you are on your knees, you have a unique opportunity to look inside yourself...to identify the path forward. So, I turned toward the spiritual in a desperate way, which is exactly what I needed to do.

Call it serendipity or synchronicity, or whatever you want to...but there are no mistakes and no surprises in this life. We create our reality, completely, with every thought and every choice we make. Most importantly, the thoughts we choose to think. Those shape the manifestation of our circumstances, on the whole, our reality. So, I was stretched to breaking, and I google "how to deal with difficult relationships" because my work situation was seeming to turn for the worse again (but has fully corrected itself, I'm happy to report-or maybe, more truthfully, I corrected my vantage point), and mindfulness meditation popped up. I googled "Mindfulness Meditation, Chicago" and the Chicago Shambhala Center popped up. It so happens that this center, of which there are 170 in the entire world (and exactly one center in Chicago), is 4 blocks from my house. Coincidence? No, I made it so. I manifested the answer to the need I finally realized, and the Universe provided. It always does.

I registered for a beginning meditation class. I definitely felt I could benefit from getting ahold of the monkey chatter and self doubt and fear and worry that was like a tape loop branded into my brain. I can't think of anyone who wouldn't benefit, actually. It's like, I finally was worn down enough to see what I needed, I asked the right question, and was immediately provided the answer. Magic? Nope-just the Way Things Are. I was aligned for a second. I need to align all the time.

So, it is truly amazing the difference in my general wellbeing I am experiencing from less than a month of meditation. This book is a phenomenal "how to" guide and is written in non-newagey goodness for the Western-minded. I feel more able to focus on what someone is saying to me instead of being partly distracted by a never-ending list of things to do in my head, or the desire to keep things moving by interjecting...after I meditate I feel very grounded, and I notice the smallest things-the texture of the walls...the feeling of my feet on the floor, the smell of some distant bakery...how blissful the sun feels, or how exotically delicious an orange tastes. I know it sounds completely ridiculous, but somehow focusing on your breath for less than 30 minutes a day to ground you in the here and now allows you to realize the benefit of sloughing off all the unproductive thinking you do constantly and be right HERE. It's almost like you have heightened senses, but in an awesome way. Sayyong Mipham says your mind is like a wild horse that you can learn to control. It is like an oasis of calm to sit with yourself, and only yourself, a little while each day. The goal is to find that place, and try to be present in it each day. If you can focus on right now, you don't miss anything. You're not always planning or worrying about the future or reminiscing or regretting the past. Nothing that happens is good or bad. It just happens. Just like no thoughts are good or bad, they are just thoughts. To be able to acknowledge those thoughts as wayward children and not let them run the show (the thought-run show that ultimately results in short-lived joy, disappointment, or some other kind of suffering) is the goal. It's like the Tao te Ching says-Sit in the Center. I am learning to sit in the center. Like a rock in a stream, with thoughts and situations rushing by. I am constant. Everything else is illusion, or preconception.

I think back to the days of when I had all the time in the world for myself. I kept busy, but I was wide open. I loved fiercely, without apology, unhesitatingly. Even if it was a dangerous thing to do. I decided I would rather hurt than not experience the range of emotions that came from loving so completely. I created art constantly. I wrote even more often. I felt like I knew myself intimately. I was fully present in my travel through the internal and external world. I discovered Sufism and Taoism in 9th grade, was fully immersed in Therevada Buddhism by my freshman year of college, and I still subscribe completely to those philosophies, but I never actively meditated. I was wide open and in touch without realizing it because I had the luxury of time and never ending intense emotional experiences to keep me wide open. As I have gotten older and more stable-financially and emotionally-I have become more closed and distracted. Where I use to live life on the fly and heart exposed, I have gotten into the business of taking care of things, day in and day out. Taking care of things-planning to take care of them, actively taking care of them, wishing I had taken care of them better-is the ultimate distraction.

Somehow I need to slough off the distraction. And there is so much of it. I had become chronically distracted. I chose that-and it's easy to with smartphones and the barrage of technology infiltrating just about everything...intruding on the little strands of quiet we ever allow ourselves. I want to stop all this struggling against the tide and submit, be immersed in my life. The idea of just letting go is so wonderful. I just needed a vehicle to help me learn how to do that. And with letting go is acceptance of what is. And what is, when seen through our truth, has no judgement, or preconception, but ultimate compassion. Of my children-I would have endless patience and joy if I was able to exist in each moment as it manifests with them. And for my husband-I would be grateful for every breath we have together, would not take a second for granted, if I could get into the present, fully.

So there it is-Reflection on a Tuesday.

Away

Amanda and I abandoned our 4 children and two husbands and went to NYC for the weekend. We talked about it a while back and decided we deserved a little break from the mayhem of family life, and chose last weekend because my birthday was on Sunday. We both had people we wanted to catch up with. We left around 3 on Thursday, trashy magazines on hand to make the flight go by faster. We got in and considered buses and trains (multiple) for $2 but decided with all our bags and since we're grownups and work hard, we could take a car service straight to her cousin's doorstep in the East Village. We got there around 7 and I got to meet Amanda's cousin David, who is awesome. He suggested this Thai/fusion place (Yaffa Cafe) and we had great HEALTHY food and then went to a bar with an outdoor patio to have a couple of beers and hang out. We went back to David's place and crashed. Let me say for one moment how his place was TINY (like 300 sq ft tiny) and the rent is $2400/month. Obviously, location is key, but Yikes! That said, it is very well done, and the furnishings and decor are very modern and sparse (no clutter). He did a lot with his small space, and we were happy to have a pull out sofa to crash on. We did notice that once we got in the front door of the building we knew we were almost to his place by the thigh burn we got on the last step on the 4th flight of stairs :-)

Friday we woke up leisurely (My grand thoughts about getting tons of sleep are laughable-I needed a vacation after my vacation) at 7 am (1 hout past my usual 5 am central wake time) and meandered to the corner cafe for some coffee. I said "large" and they delivered.

We decided to to the site seeing that day since all of our friends and David had to work. We walked a good way. My Type A Google Earth estimate is about 6.5 miles, which pretty much justified anything we wanted to eat, if we needed justification. We decided to go to the Brooklyn Bridge, but first walked through China Town and looked in all the cluttered little shops for a few little trinkets we wanted to bring home for the kids.

We found Gillian a little silk kimono-esque nightgown and a fan, Addie a little drum, some $1 animae purses for each of them, and a little silver charm for me; AJ and Will got a kitty with waving arm; Amanda got a sitting Buddha to meditate with. Then we headed to the bridge. It was a nice view of the city.

We meandered more and enjoyed the intermittent green space (Chicago has a lot more of that, by the way), hit an old church that made me wonder what it thought of the insanity that grew up around it and it's 300 year old cemetery, and walked by Ground Zero. I hadn't seen Ground Zero since 2003, and it is impressive how ambitious the new site is.

From there, we walked to Battery Park to catch a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty (just because) but had no intention of standing in the Very Long Line to go see her up close. In fact, I have been to New York many, many times, but have never done touristy things. I was too busy being in a band, so this was different and a nice pace. So seeing the Statue of Liberty was kind of humbling, even from a distance. Because, wow, at some point, most of us who have lineage of a couple hundred years in this country have ancestors whose hopes and dreams of life here started on Ellis Island.

Anyway, after that we headed out of Battery park, grabbed lunch at a very out of the way French bistro and relaxed with great conversation, some wine, and excellent food. After that we headed back to home base, strolling through Soho and did some shopping on the way back. I was pretty good and only bought Gillian a couple of hair adornments at this place that would have been the Happiest Place She Ever Visited if I had brought her along. I mean. Walls of necklaces and earrings, aisles of headbands-beaded, feathered, you name it....rows of rings in every shape, size, color... and it was all very reasonably priced. I bought her a little Tiara hair clip that looks precious when she has a bun in.

Here she is with her China Town and Soho gifts (Sean was not happy when she insisted on wearing her tiara to school Monday and Tuesday with her "beautiful ballerina bun", but I disagree. She will probably spend years of her life dressing like a bum. May as well enjoy it!).

Overall, this was our walkabout path:

So, we got back to David's 10 hours after we left, and Amanda, David and I went to a great little Italian (authentic) restaurant two doors down from his place called Via Della Pace. More wine, more great company and great food.

Then we headed to Brooklyn to visit Gerard at his bar Branded Saloon. Gerard is one of my oldest, dearest friends. He and I dated in high school, but have known eachother since 7th grade. We have played music together forever, and were inseperable in high school and college. It felt like it always does, even though I haven't physically seen him since Gillian was born. We picked up like we saw eachother the night before. I absolutely adore his partner Kris, who he has been with for 8 years, and who keeps him grounded and safe. Gerard was busy running a business, but we enjoyed some awesome country western music and had a chance to hang out later in the evening with him and Kris. I am convinced that this is the right place for Gerard because it is a performace space for live music and gives him a canvas for his creativity... we had so much fun singing like it was 1995 and visiting.

(we totally queened it up singing "I wanna dance with somebody" by Whitney Houston, and in his usual fashion (which made me laugh (hard) and miss him even more) he improvised the lyrics "smoke a little crack, do a little smack... with somebody named Bobby!").

I am really, really proud of Gerard. And I was reminded of how blessed I am to have such amazing friends! We got back to David's around 4 am after a precarious cab ride (full of negotiation and haggling with the driver) back to the E. Village from Brooklyn (Prospect Heights, which might as well been outer space the way people acted that it was so far away from the city (it was about a 20 min cab ride)). So much for my ideas of getting caught up on sleep.

We crashed, but I woke promptly Saturday morning at 7 am. Apparently, I can't even sleep in when I want to sleep in! ARG! I had made plans to meet some old high school friends at the little cafe on the corner at 9 am. It later occured to me in the quiet cafe that no one in New York does anything before 11 or 12, with good reason if you are staying up till 4 am. Anyway, it was FANTASTIC to see Navaz and Tania, a seriously old crew from high school. Amanda was a good sport and came along, but David chose sleep (David was the smart one). Aside from the kitty coffee

we had breakfast and mimosas (hair of the dog). Tania and Navaz worked with me at Taco Bell when I was in high school. Tania lived two houses down from us on Versailles Court in good old Cape Coral. It's funny how people from your past remember who you have always been, and we cut up like always. One thing is for sure, when newer friends meet your old friends, they learn a whole lot about who you are under your layers of responsibility. Navaz has a son about Addie's age and Tania is a professional musician. It makes me happy that they are doing so well, and have peace in their lives. Amanda went back to David's to bring him some coffee, and I stayed and hung out a while longer. Tania and I met up with David and Amanda to wait for one of David's friends (Nate) and by about noon Amanda, David, Nate, and I decided to do brunch at a typical diner. I opted for a salad and fries (balancing what I wanted and what I needed :-) and had such interesting conversation (like David musing that Nate's mom's "vagina was like a Freeway" because she had 3 children in 11 months). Anyway, then David, Amanda and I headed to the Met (during which we saw Julia Stiles on the street-nice to see that no one was hounding her in NYC) to see the Alexander McQueen exhibit, only to find out it hadn't opened yet :-( , but we walked through anyway and I got to see some good paintings from some of my favorites (Miro, Klee, Picasso, etc.). After that, we got more coffee and headed back to David's place to take showers and get ready for the evening.

Amanda was super excited to see one of her oldest friends, Heidi, that she has known since 1st grade. Heidi suggested a french bistro called Casimir. So we met there and lierally were there for 3 hours which went by like a blink.

One thing I noticed about this restaurant and NYC in general is that eating is much more an event than other cities I have visited. No one pressures you to hurry, and so in true European style, we hung out and joked and ate and drank leisurely. Heidi is a beautiful, charismatic girl who, like David, has a high powered advertising job. While I think it would be exciting and fun to live in NYC and travel the world doing work with high-end clients (her biggest account is Google Chrome right now), I would have done that 10 years ago, but not now. It's strange how life does that...I used to get panic attacks at the idea of settling down-getting married, having babies. The old me-the free spirited me that was spontaneous, identified with art and music more than motherhood and ever in the world being scientist-she would totally dig living in New York, travelling at the drop of a hat, going out every weekend... but I appreciate my quiet these days, and wouldn't trade these babies for all the worldliness on earth. I couldn't spend the money on rent, eating out, and transportation required to live in Manhattan...it's a lifestyle choice. I would have loved to have done as a younger person, and I truly adore the city, but I like it in small quantities. Anyway, after a dinner that included multiple bottles of wine, my first try of raw oysters (I know, what planet have I been living on??? I love sushi, and don't know what my hang up has been about oysters all these years, particularly when my husband LOVES them), Duck, and dessert (TO DIE FOR) we went to a swanky bar called Summit. Or maybe it wasn't swanky, but it was expensive and obviously only frequented by locals. So this weekend, I didn't limit myself to birthday cake-I added birthday shots at a bar I would usual not go to. In fact it was so swanky and cool that it looked abandoned from the outside...but when you opened the door, it was such a scene (insert eyeroll). I mean, who else would have a link on their website of "cocktail porn"? (for the record, I drank the fab Charmagne's Star, which luckily was delicious since the bar tab for 4 of us (Heidi's boyfriend joined us) was probably $200 (3 rounds of drinks-that's it)). One thing I loved was David's green flannel (which was probably designer but didn't look it) in the sea of designer everything. Really.

At midnight, Paul, Heidi, David, and Amanda sung me happy birthday and we did a round of shots (not sure what it was, but it was good). I have never had a $14 birthday shot before, so it was a new experience! For me, talking to one of Amanda's best friends was amazing-I got a glimpse into who she was before she was a mom and a wife, and a doctor. I liked what I saw. It was also nice to get to know Paul a little(who is also in advertising and is from Sweden). I made a mental note of how Heidi had mentioned Paul taking her to a party of what she called Beautiful People (all scandanavian, all with impeccable skin and hair, all meticulously dressed, freshed faced, and motivated) and what that was like, and my head nearly exploded from the many levels of Inception-like tiers of keeping up with the Joneses one could get caught up in NYC. Even our gorgeous, high powered hostess could feel a pang of that. At that moment, my relief at the idea that I could go home at the end of the weekend intensified. That night we got in around 2 I suppose. We crashed out, and woke up Sunday morning at 7:30 (that was the best I could do, it seems, even when I don't have anyone to wake me up). This time we went to another diner and ate like we have never eaten (there were probably 12 plates of food on the table at one point). There were carbs aplenty to take the edge off.

We decided to walk around Times Square because I hadn't been since the pedestrian lane was put in (which has cut contaminants/air pollution in HALF in the area!). It was like it has always been, except this time I wasn't 18, with Gerard, with a 40 oz beer in a bag (well, that was the first time I saw Times Square, and it was scruffier, and it was nighttime). There was a Disney-world like Toys R Us that had multiple levels, including a two story Barbie house filled with all things Barbie you could buy (and a ferris wheel).

Amanda and I felt the need to shop for the kids, so we got a few little things for them. Then we got some Jamba Juice, so dehydrated and sapped of nutrients from our drinking blitz we were. We got back to David's, the Limo picked us up at 2, and we went off to Newark airport (which I will *never* fly into or out of again from Manhattan-$64!!). I got back to our humble home in Chicago at 7pm ish, opened the door to a supiciously quiet house. I walked to the back of the house, and Gillian sang me a amped version of "Happy Birthday"-Addie and Sean joining, while they presented a candle-ridden birthday cake they had made that afternoon (the first Sean has ever baked, to my knowledge). Through my sappy tears, standing in my dining room, I knew for sure that as mundane as my little life is, I wouldn't change it for anything else in the whole world. This was the best birthday EVER (and I love you Amanda!).

Nightmares

We've had a little visitor in the middle of the night quite a bit of late. It seems that Gillian is drumming up some doozies and even with the hall light and a nightlight she gets a little freaked out when she wakes up in a quiet, sleepy house. I guess I started to notice this trend a couple of months ago when she called me into her room and asked about "that black thing on the side of the window". I pulled up the shade and showed her that it was the window frame.

Our fat, lazy, roly poly cat induces near hysteria if she has the audacity to jump on the bed (or even walk by Gillian's bedroom door) at night, imagined to be some terrible monster of mythical proportions. I spent 15 minutes explaining that Booger is many things, but Lazy is the #1 thing, and that in itself would preclude her from doing such ambitious things as biting a little girl's face off, for example. I started thinking, as I was demonstrating on Gillian's hand how hard Booger bites when you give her those spankings she likes, that maybe I shouldn't be doing that. But, it ended all the paranoid talk with laughter, which is probably as good as it is going to get (I later showed her physically this phenomenon-Booger, in her usual fashion, enjoyed her light spanking and then bit me with little love bites, then licked my hand).

Then there was the "bad dream" about the alligator that started the alligator fear phase. And there was the snake who came in the house and he made us start a fire and then he ate it and it made his tummy hurt and so he went away (to which I replied, "isn't that a GOOD dream? We made his fire so spicy it made him go away with a tummy ache?!!)... I think most of these are kind of cute, but the second one on this video clip is just not cute or funny at all. Because God knows it probably happens to someone in this world every day.



So, the rule is that Gillian can always come to us at night when she's scared as long as she doesn't startle us out of REM sleep with a dramatic tantrum. She has been pretty fantastic about just climbing into our bed or whispering to one if us that she's scared and asking one of us to go sleep in her room. The dreams she describes are perfectly weird enough to be dreams and not an excuse to come sleep with us ("I dreamed this bad cat was really a dog who could change into a cat or a dog whenever he wanted").

As an aside: ever since we decided to tow the hard line with night waking with Addie, she has happily slept through the night. Silly us for not doing it much sooner.

Wake up call

It's been a crazy couple of months. Well, crazier. The newest stress (beyond worrying about my livelihood while being used as a political pawn) is my diagnosis of squamous cell carcinoma. Yeah-sobering. You get pretty humbled pretty quick when someone tells you you have cancer, even if it is a non-threatening looking little spot on your arm.


So, here it is-Squamous Cell Carcinoma (lovingly referred to in the literature as "SCC"). More specifically, it's a form of SCC called Bowen's Disease. I have had this spot for 6 or 7 years, so I am hoping it isn't too advanced. I guess I thought it was eczema. No excuse for a person with as much public health training as I have. Good thing I asked for a dermatology referral. My primary care doctor didn't think much of this thing a couple years ago when I had 5 moles removed. This time the specialist removed 2 precancerous lesions (actinic keratoses-one on my face and another next to the SCC lesion), two benign moles, and biopsied the SCC lesion. They are excising it next Monday, which is a few weeks since I got the diagnosis. Thursday I leave for New York City to spend a long weekend celebrating my 37th birthday with friends. Ironic. I pray daily for my father's disease genes (massive, instantaneous heart attack) and not my mothers' (my brother looked just like her and they both had internal-make-you-die cancer).

There's nothing like a cancer diagnosis (no matter what kind) to give you a sobering reality check about your life. Like, my little life is as fragile as a fall leaf. God doesn't HAVE to let me be here among the rest of you. He doesn't HAVE to let me watch my children grow up and become smart, kind, beautiful young women. This is all icing, and I should try to meditate on that every day.

And I am angry at myself. My stupid 16 year old self that use to try against hope to get a tan, laying out in the sun, burning after burning after burning my fragile, pale skin trying to be beautiful... and I am mad at my parents who should have been slathering me with sun block every weekend when we went to the beach. I can't even count the times I remember peeling blistered skin off my nose and cheeks and the part of my hair. STUPID, STUPID, STUPID. I will be a better parent than they were. I will make sure my girls have hats and cover ups and high SPF sunblock. Especially Addie, who has beautiful, porcelain skin. Probably how mine would have looked if someone had been smart enough to protect it.

I am freaking out a little. I am trying to keep myself calm. I promise myself that even though it took me almost 37 years to get to a dermatologist to have a full body check of every blemish on my freckly, moley skin, I will be going twice a year from now on to get a scan. I am praying that this is the only diagnosis of cancer I ever get, and am grateful that it is NOT melanoma. I am putting out into the universe that this lesion is localized and has not metastasized anywhere and will be 100% removed after April 11, never to return.

Tidbit