Sometime in the zone of last Friday morning, I took these photos…
Sometime in the zone of last Friday morning, I took these photos…
Being a parent brings many unknowns and many surprises. Yesterday proved to be quite a memorable day, made possible by an interaction that I had with another mom. I met her as I walked up the stairs to my daughter’s preschool classroom. She stopped me in my tracks when she said, “You’re Lily’s mom right?” to which I responded, “Yep!” She then introduced herself and her son, whom I’ll call Miles. This mom (I’ll call her Jen) told me that her son talks about my daughter all the time (the phrase “all the time” was quite elongated, I could tell she was serious).
Mind you, these are preschool kids – three and four-year-olds, who are just barely learning about the world, and how to interact with one another. Yet, somehow, they seem to be on another dimension of their own, this Miles and Lily. Miles seemed to be smitten with Lily, but she had no idea, and neither did I. I looked at Miles and he had a slightly forlorn look on his face, almost sad, and he said, “I never get to play with Lily.”
“Why?” I asked him.
“Because of Sam,” he responded.
Let me introduce you to the story behind Sam. He’s a little boy in her class who lives not too far from us, and coincidentally we go to the same park often. Ever since Lily and her dad ran into Sam and his dad at the park, those two became best buddies. They played together at the park whenever we were all there at the same time (once Sam reached out and gave Lily a hug, to which she responded by awkwardly hugging him back). This particular boy clearly enjoys being around my daughter, because every time he saw her, whether at school or at the park, he’d instantly ask her if she wants to play with him. He’s an outgoing boy who clearly knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it, whereas the other boy Miles is shy. I suggested to Miles that perhaps he should go over to Lily and play with her even if Sam is there, or he can simply ask her to play with him, and I bet she wouldn’t mind.
Needless to say, my daughter is involved in some sort of early childhood love triangle, to which I am a little bit perplexed and makes her dad (my husband) quite nervous. Like many fathers, he’s not ready to admit that his daughter is growing up, let alone think about the fact that someday she might attract the attention of multiple boys. I can only imagine that in high school, she’ll mention in passing about a boy she likes (or several) and he’d put on his grumpy, serious father face and immediately forbid her to talk about going out with boys ever again.
As her mother, I can only hope that she will never be in a serious, true love triangle where she has to choose between two men to be with. At her age, I was in a much less satisfying situation. I was put in a Catholic preschool, where I was bullied and reprimanded by the nuns all day. Granted, they reprimanded all the kids whenever we were a little bit rowdy, but that’s the predicament you’re in when you go to a Catholic school. Needless to say, I didn’t last too long there.
So the fact that my daughter has not only done so well in preschool so far – she loves going to school so much that she asks to go every single day – and has made several friends brings me happiness and joy. When you’re a parent, you can only hope that your child does well when put in a different environment where they can have their own experiences. You hope that their experiences are going to be a little bit different than yours.
After I picked her up from school, I took her out on a little jaunt to the Pearl District, where we rode the Portland Streetcar for many, many stops. We ended up at this ramen restaurant after running an errand. Although she clung to hand tightly, freaking out every time I tried to release it, I had fun with this little girl – for she is mine, my daughter true and true. She is so much like me in some ways but completely different from me in others. I love her dearly.
Today, I turned 32. Age is just a number, they say. You are as young as you feel! I always hear. For me, though, my birthday has always felt a little bit gloomy. I remember that I felt very, very depressed on my 24th & 25th birthdays because I was unemployed both years on this day. Being an unemployed college graduate was not something that I had planned on doing. I had high hopes for myself, yet I was very naive, and like most twenty-somethings, I didn’t know a lot of things. I didn’t know that I would graduate during one of the worst recessions of our time – 2008, and for someone with a business degree and no plan or any idea what she wanted to do in life after graduation was not a predicament that one would want to be in.
What I didn’t know was that it would take me many years to get to where I am today. It has been a very slow progression, but today, I have a job that by no means a “dream job” but it suits me and I like where I am. I’ve been married to my high school sweetheart for almost a decade. I have two wonderful kids whom I grew in my body and pushed them out, much to my dismay, in a quick succession without any pain meds. I live in a neighborhood that I love. My husband and I own our car outright. My student loans are not paid off yet, but it will be by the end of this year. I have several retirement accounts and excellent credit. If that’s not achievement then I don’t know what is.
To quote from one of my favorite children’s book series, Dr. Seuss. He knows what’s up.
“Today you are you! That is truer than true! There is no one alive who is you-er than you!”
I’ve never felt more like myself than today. Today is when I became at peace with myself, at the position that I’m in. Life isn’t perfect, and you’re not always going to get what you want, but if you sit down and think about what you already have, then it makes life more worthwhile.
Monday induces the oh-so-big sighs from many of us, for it’s the end of the weekend, end of fun activities, outings and the like. Back the dreariness of life, or a thing called “work.” But not I. For me, getting back to work means going back to downtown Portland. Six months ago, I was lucky enough to snag a job at a local university, the same university that I graduated from many years ago – it feels strange being an employee and not a student.
Nonetheless, I love being downtown, amidst all the hustle and bustle of every day life, where everything can be reached within minutes of walking and even less driving (sometimes during traffic it can feel the same amount of time as walking!). Coffee shops, restaurants, schools, theaters, local businesses and the like. That’s what I love about being downtown. I may have been born into the country life, but I grew up in the city and I’m a city girl at heart.
The day started off on a wet note – puddles of rain awaited me as I stepped out the door this morning with my camera. I felt really nervous about walking in the rain to the train station carrying my camera, because it reminded me of that one time many years ago when I took an Olympus point-and-shoot that I got as a gift from my husband to a group retreat at a camp in the forest and throughout that weekend, it rained and I brought it outside, to my sheer stupidity, it got destroyed and no longer worked when it dried up.
Hence, I refrained myself from taking pictures, for fear of destroying my lens.
Luckily, the afternoon came and my work day was over. I stepped out into a bright, clear and semi-warm day, beneath a small covering of clouds, I felt really glad, not just because it stopped raining, but because I felt so much change happening around me. Construction was being done on a new business school at PSU, I saw many men & women working hard at it, plus beautiful wall art (below) and an endless supply of those orange bikes littered all around campus. Finally, as I was walking towards the daycare center on campus to pick up my daughter, I decided to venture off into a little corner of the world that was hidden away and once stepped in, it felt like I was in The Secret Garden (one of my favorite books as a child). This kind of foliage is something that I’ve always yearned to have, something that I find so beautiful and comforting.
Sundays are really simple days.
My daughter has a thing for pancakes. Ever since I introduced her to a thing called pancake-mix-in-a-box and showed her how to measure and whisk it, she’s been obsessed. So last night, I promised her that we’d make pancakes first thing in the morning. And that’s exactly what we did.
Speaking of obsessions, her other current obsession is Elephant & Piggie books by Mo Willems. (If you’re not familiar with Mo, read this excellent article from the New Yorker about him). And just like that, without any prompts, she took it upon herself to grab a book from her bookshelf and started reading.
Sometimes I find it hard to believe that as a three year old, Lily can read by herself. My parents thought I was smart, but I was certainly not reading sentences at age three. In fact, most kids don’t grasp the reading skills until age five, at least, if not later. She is one of a kind – this girl.
Then it was time for my son’s nap…otherwise known as ‘catnap day.’ After his two long naps yesterday, he decided he was going to do 30 minutes here, and 30 minutes there. Oh well. You win some, you lose some.