The fear of loss

A couple of months ago, my husband and I took the kids for brunch. Nothing new. Except the all-you-can-drink Mimosas for $5. (Some control was exercised!)
It was near easter/mothers day and a couple came in with assorted elderly parents, aunts, uncles, etc. Also with their baby. the baby was probably under 2 months old and still had a bit of the newborn cry. The baby was precious, as all babies are, but was also hungry and out of sorts. So it continued a stream of noise and interruption making it hard for parents to enjoy their breakfast with family. I had finished eating, and as we were seated at the table next to them, I walked over to the mom and offered to hold the baby for a few minutes so that she could eat. She could see that I had kids, and looked pretty safe. But I could see the immediate fear in her. It was so palpable that one could taste it. Someone was trying to steal her baby. She said that no, she was fine, but certainly not in a friendly way. Then her husband, who had not heard the conversation, jumped in with scowl on face and asked me what my problem was. Fear etched all over him. I have truly never seen a couple so wrapped in fear in such a way that it was like wearing a coat. I don't know if they walked out of the door that morning arguing, what their life is like, anything about them other than their fear concerning this child. I said that there was certainly not a problem, I was simply offering to help, sorry for interrupting. And went back to my table.
One by one, all of the older folks found a way to come over and thank me for the offer. the parents ignored me and the father took the baby for a walk somewhere else in the restaurant.
I understand that I am a stranger to them. I understand that there are a million and one explanations for their refusal. but it made me think about fear.
I had the same offer given to me when my kids were small. I was in a book and card shop. I had to buy a wedding card for the next day and I knew that this was my only chance. My kids were both under two years old. In a double stroller that barely fit through the door. And my daughter was a screamer (why did I get a screamer?) And could she scream. Ear piercing, alarm bell starting, ambulance pitched screams if anything was not to her liking. Which it often was. (So happy when she started talking!) As soon as I crammed the stroller into the store, she started. Every eye turned to us. I was at an intense point of exhaustion, and thought that I might just start crying in the middle of the store. A woman came up to me and asked if she could try to calm Miss EOT down by walking her around the store. YES. I have never been so thankful in my life. It was a miracle. Miss EOT calmed down, I could purchase a card, which I had to do with a credit card as I didn't have a dime on me, and the sales girl said absolutely- that was fine. Once I left the store, Miss EOT screamed all the way home, but at that point it didn't matter.
The kindness of strangers is what saved me. And I can think of several other times too- when I got a flat alone on a highway and two heavily tatooed guys stopped and changed it for me ( the nicest guys in the world), The cabbie that took me home for much less than the fare as it was an emergency. There are many stories about people that I don't know but am thankful for.
Does the fear of loss need to trump the acceptance of kindness in our lives?
I do not judge the couple at brunch. They needed to do what was right for them. But I don't think that I ever want to let fear overwhelm me to the point that I cannot see a blessing in the guise of a stranger. And if I am the stranger, I hope that someone can/will accept my offering if given with best intentions.

The Next Big Move

Our house is on the market, and as mentioned, we are gearing up for a move. We know that our time in Chicago is nearly over. We love Chicago, but the magnetic pull of "the next big thing" is so strong that we cannot resist. We have some options, but the strongest pull is someplace warmer, still vibrant, but with better house prices and good winters. Raleigh comes to mind. The presence of several universities and technology in the area make it more diverse and more appealing than some other places. Little Miss EOT (eyes of truth) would also like riding lessons- a high probability there. Mr Sunshine just wants more tae kwon do. The man of the house could golf to his heart's content all winter. Easy.And an international airport is a plus, for visits to the family and beyond.

So now for what we want to avoid: religion, ignorance. But those are in Chicago too.
I have to assume that we will simply attract what we want when we get there. Good, open-minded neighbors (our neighbors in our current building rock). Great quality of life, simple abundance- having everything we need without being greedy. Wine, good food, great company. A house that is a home. we should be able to get that anywhere.

I am torn between apprehension for the unknown and pure excitement for the future.
After years of condo living, I could grow my own vegetables, hang clothes on a clothes line. Continue with my experiments in cheesemaking, canning. Have my husband expand his wood working workshop which is now in the unfinished basement but is a slightly sore subject for others in the building (too messy, dirty, could attract termites(?)- oh, but could you build me a fireplace surround?).

Just writing this made me realize that I am willing to put up with 50 unwanted invitations to church for that new life. We will always be able to come back to visit Chicago. But sometimes the change is worth the effort.

All that free time.

It is an odd paradox. The majority of my day is fairly busy. I work part time from home for a software company, I take care of my kids, make meals, do laundry, keep the house tidy, do the shopping, follow up with work that needs to be done to our building for the condo association, am on the school board, etc.
Between the times of intense action, are periods of extreme boredom. It is strange. If the kids are quiet, chores are caught up, I don't quite know what to do with myself. I never had this issue when I was childless and working. There was always either something to do, or a leisure activity. The quiet times now are completely different. Because I know that they are temporary. In an hour, two hours, I will be needed again in a watchman capacity. To be disciplinarian, nurse, chef (or simply cook, depending on how you look at it) maid. So my mere 2 hours does not end up being enough time to start some sort of interesting hobby or project. And let's face it, an hour or two is not enough time to completely free. What does free mean, you ask? It means going long enough that you actually miss the kids. It means going for some amount of time without being touched, called for or needed in some way.
Sure, I could take a walk, read a few pages in book, clean out my sock drawer. But what I really want to do is something that is going to be mentally beneficial for me. But there is a fine line between calm and bored stiff. Something meaningful would be nice.
Semantics, you say. Also, why am I whining about getting a couple of hours free? I am not disregarding that precious time. But rather, how can I make it better. I read another blog recently of a friend who had several days off while the kids were with her ex. And it was a time of extensive rest but also extensive frustration. She hasn't had that much time to herself for years. Now that she did, what to do?
The predicament is about finding an interest that can be started almost immediately, can be put down at any time, and revived without effort. It needs to be light, but fulfilling.
I am an adult- wouldn't I have some sort of hobby by this time? The person I was before kids is not the person I am now. I have changed in so many ways, that I feel the need to learn new skills, discover what else I am capable of.

Ah, the ongoing journey.

I love a warm spring day

This morning it was dreary, and not quite raining outside. The husband went golfing and I spent the time prepping the house for a sales showing and harping on the kids not to undo what I had just done.
The husband got back home so we decided to go our for sushi while the house was being shown. It was warmer by this time, but still cloudy, overcast. We go in for sushi and are pleasantly surprised by the amount of food that the kids manage to eat. When mr. sunshine gets to be a teenager, the food intake is going to be insane.
But the best was when we walked out of the restaurant, it was sunny, very warm and absolutely perfect.We took a wander down to the action figure/comic book store, wandered around, and had a leisurely walk back. Nothing exciting, nothing to write about (yet I am), but so incredible in the simple happiness of enjoying the day and having nothing pressing to do.
Tomorrow: open house, brunch with friends, and tae kwon do competition. A little busier. But not so busy that it is out of control.
I never want to get to that point- where I am so busy that I frustrate myself. I know that as the kids get older, there will be more activities, different concerns. But life is a choice, and everything in it. I choose not to schedule my self out of control. I choose to keep my weeks sane and enjoyable. And I hope I read this in 10 years to remind myself......

Our new family member

So, my husband wakes me up at midnight last week. He had been fixing something on his bike and wanted to do a quick test drive when he found something in the alley and brought it in the house. No, not a homeless person, but a homeless baby bird. It was still very naked and not making any noise, so I was a bit heartless. I asked him to put it in a tiny box, lined with a towel, and if it was still alive in the morning, I would deal with it.
Surprise! I was truly shocked to find a live baby bird in my house the next morning. After a search on the internet we bought a can of wet dog food and starting feeding our new baby with tweezers . It was insatiable. Every half hour there was an insistent peep-peep from a teeny body and food was administered. It became used to my voice and if the little man heard me speak, well, that must mean it was dinner time again! If I spoke to the dog, peep-peep-peep-peep!!!! And it was easy at night- it went to sleep at dusk and woke up at dawn! If only our human babies had done that....
After several days, his feathers were coming in and he was looking quite handsome. We upgraded him to a shoebox lined with a towel. He would keep me company during the day- between scarfing worms and pooping in his box. At this point, we could tell that it was a starling. The kids loved it. Watching the growth each day, feeding, getting to hold it in their hands for a few seconds. What a great experience for them.
But after a few days, I realized that we would never be able to get our baby back into the wild, where it needed to be. We simply didn't know how. It was time to talk to professionals and see what needed to be done. A call to the local vet, a lead to the Chicago Bird Collision Monitors, and a wonderfully kind woman came by within the day to take our little guy to a place where he would be re-introduced to the wild. She was quite impressed with how good he looked and was sure that he would have a good chance of making a clean break.
On a different note- we currently have our house on the market and have a few options of places to go. Our feathered friend seemed to be a great omen of new things to come. New life, coming soon!
I am surprised by how much I miss it. Here's to you, teeny bird!

Do I have to make dinner....?

I have been thinking about what to do my first blog on and I stumbled across the landmark book " The Feminine Mystique" by Betty Friedan. I have never read it and am at a point where I need some new reading material, so what the hell.
Now, I should be making dinner, but find myself drawn into this book. I really can't be bothered to find anything in the freezer and I don't have the energy to start chopping and organizing a meal.
So I read.
As I am reading it, I find myself in great empathy with her and the women she studied. I am amazed at how much things have changed since the '60s, yet why am I still wondering who I am? At some level, I feel trapped in the feminine mystique but in a different way than those women were. Many were constrained by societal limitations, where my limitations are of the imagination. I married a great guy, quit work to raise two awesome kids, I know that I am more than wife and mom. I now more open to pursue a new career of my choice, but I no longer truly know who I am. The metamorphosis between professional woman to full time mom profoundly changed me in a way that I never expected. I grew into a person that I never thought that I would be. And yet I am happy with this woman that I am, even though I cannot see the full image of what I have become. I do know that I do not want to return to implementing software systems. I know that the world is full of opportunity, but what do I really want? And I still am not sure...
I want to explore all of the things that make me happy: a really good book, lush green outdoors, excellent food, gardening and cooking, travel- anywhere and everywhere, a great conversation- politics-religion- whatever. How can I turn these things into a livelihood? Do I want to turn them into a livelihood? Why so many questions?????
Crepes. I can make crepes for dinner and read at the same time. And I know that they will be eaten without complaint.
I have started down the road to my next big adventure ( to be traveled when not getting kids to school, taekwondo, ballet, etc) you are welcome to join me for the ride.