Being Grateful

This Thanksgiving we had a reunion. All of the Paddens (some of us now known by other names) got together to be grateful. We visited Dad's grave at the cemetary on Friday.

The cousins are so reminiscent of us as kids. They love fiercly, as well as fight too. Like a pack of puppies. (Luca is missing from this shot because he's on my hip as I took the photo.)

They traipsed around together, calling after one another and laughing. It was magic watching them all play for four straight days. We all had heavy hearts when it was over.

We decorated a tree at my dad's graveside with Christmas ornaments. One for each child.

They carefully looped their ornaments to the tree. I watched them and recognized that we are all so intimately tied to one another. Through thick and thin.

They piled in front of their Papa's headstone and I snapped a photo. (Again, Luca is on his Mama's hip.) I looked at all of their sweet faces and felt this surge of pride. These little ones are really the center of our family. The next generation.

Ice Skating

We took Mia ice skating for her first time this week. She was a trooper! Learning anything for the first time is tough, especially when you're cold and wearing bizarre footwear. She braved the elements though and thinks she might want to sign up for lessons.

I have to say, I do love to ice skate. I tore around the rink a few times alone and caught V's eye as I did so. I was expecting him to give me a thumbs up or a "Wow. That's my wife out there" kind of a smile. But, he just pointed to the tiny girl clad all in pink. His point said it all. This isn't about you my friend. Let's put our own Ice Capades fantasies aside and let Mia shine tonight.

And shine she did.

Promises

I've started a million blog entries as of late and have erased all of them. A million might be an exaggeration. To be more accurate, maybe I've started a handful. O.k. fine. Like two or three. Four. Tops.

But, I've deleted them after staring at the screen for what feels like an eternity.

I guess I'm standing at the mouth of unknown territory. I've been busy raising babies and chasing toddlers. I've been at the wheel of this domestic ship - doing laundry and cleaning up dog vomit. I've been wading through my professional creek, trying to marry my role as a mom with my aspirations outside of tending to my kids. I've been busy. To say the least. And my busyness was something we can all relate to. My experiences with my kids, my work, my home life, while unique in many ways, were universal too. My writing about late nights nursing my kids, the ways their coos and gummy smiles would make me feel more whole, happier, really was quite similar to other new moms' experiences. My kids - with their sweet faces and funny toddler growing pains - were probably just like yours. My experiences just like yours. It was o.k. to share all of it because I wasn't betraying anyone's right to privacy, because privacy really doesn't mean anything to teeny tiny kids (and let me tell you, privacy also doesn't mean much to moms who have spent a handful of years pregnant or breastfeeding.)


But, now, my kids are getting older. And maybe I'm growing a bit more confused about where my story ends and theirs begin. Their experiences now are more defining. They don't just poop, eat, and stare longingly at me. Their lives are less universal. So I'm working with how to continue to recount our lives as a family with respecting their need for privacy. (This after posting a shot of my children's butts. I know. This is all an imperfect train of thought. Just follow me please.) I feel that as we age, our paths become muddier. Darker. And they should. That's all a part of growing up and learning to fend for ourselves. I had a moment the other day where I was holding my sobbing girl after a heartbreaking social encounter at school. Nothing major. Something you and I would blow off. Even laugh at. But this moment was big for her and one that I tried to write about. I sat in front to this screen and tried, several times, to put a voice to what she was feeling. And I couldn't. It isn't my story to tell. And staring at that blank screen, I knew I was standing at the altar of a new chapter. I was taking a vow to allow my kids to be themselves without me always there to document it. I was promising privacy.

I wondered what vows I've taken recently. What have I boldly declared, even with wiggly knees and pounding heart? What have I promised that scares me but also thrills me because I know it's right?

And I thought of my kids. And I thought of this precipice on which we're all standing. This cliff. And I thought of how I'm standing here, again, facing this new phase of raising children, not babies. Really just small adults, with all the complexity of the larger variety. And I thought of this new promise.

I promise to love and protect. To honor. To be faithful to both of them. And also to step back and allow them to muddy themselves with life, without me, their mom, thinking the story is mine.

But sitting her (yay for screens that don't beckon to be deleted after you've spent time composing!) I'm reminded that we renew vows everyday. Sometimes we have to change them a bit, let them evolve. But the renewal process is not just a bi yearly or yearly kind of a thing. It's daily.

So maybe this is all why I've been quieter lately on this blog. I'm savoring the change. I'm learning to let others speak for themselves (namely two ridiculously cute kids - M and L) . I'm rediscovering my own story.

I will continue to share myself and my family, for our own sake really. So we have this blog to look back on when we're older and our memories aren't as good. But I'm trying to evolve a bit, in light of this new promise.

I can try anyway.

Happy Thanksgiving week by the way. A week of renewing all kinds of vows. I'm feeling incredibly lucky to be surrounded by my family right now. This is what it's all about.

Little Learner

She is at that stage where she runs up to me asking me how to spell different words all of the time. She then runs to her little make shift desk to create more books. I set up a great little craft table for her in her playroom but she much prefers to carry her corrugated box around from room to room with her bag of papers and crayons. Kind of like when the music or art teacher had to forfeit his or her room in elementary school to work in the classrooms instead. Art on a cart.

I like the immediacy of her moveable station. When the mood strikes, the crayon hits the paper. Today she created a book called BIG, about, fittingly, all things big.

This tiny kid. A writer.

My cup runneth over.

ZOO

V and I took the kids to the zoo today. I was a swirl of excitement and sadness. Excited for my kids to see these wild and beautiful creatures up close. The elephants rooting around a pile of leaves and then playfully tossing them up to watch them come cascading down again. The baby orangutan, clinging to his beloved mama. The penguins. The spider monkeys. The place is ripe with opportunities for language development, connections to animals that we read about, and personal discovery about that great big bad world I'm always babbling about.

But sadness always sets in. We were in the primate section and I locked eyes with a big gorilla. I said, audibly, "Ah....my heart is breaking." Mia, the ever astute girl that she is asked me to repeat what I said. "Why?" she persisted. I explained that seeing these marvelous animals, so like us, trapped in concrete surroundings with all of us watching them, just eats at my heart a bit. I explained that I do see value in caging them. But it's such a selfish value. It's for my benefit. Not theirs. Mia put her hand to the glass and just watched, with those huge eyes.

Life is about conflicting feelings. It's about negotiating situations and being honest that we really don't have the answers. The kids pulled themselves up on the fences and quietly watched their animal friends go about their daily work.

A carousel ride always makes this kid smile. She chose to ride the seat with monkeys. I rode the dolphin next to her.

We rode the train and just before we lurched forward, I caught Luca looking to his daddy for reassurance. For that calming voice to say, "It's all going to be o.k. kid. Just hang on." I guess I needed that reassurance too a bit.

Monday night

We turned on some Christmas music (I've got a killer collection going over here) and cooked an Asian themed meal. Then, the kids took off all of their clothes for no apparent reason and washed the dishes.

I'd say it all feels very very normal.

Did you?

I'm a mail in voter as of recent years. The job. The kids. The juggling. It just made sense for me to mail it in. V was a bit disappointed in me when I made the switch; we have fond memories of standing in line together - hand in hand - performing our civic duty. I arrived home this early afternoon to two kids running amok through the house, shrieking and hollering. Mia stopped, amid the mild chaos, and pointed to her chest. Look! We voted, she explained. And so it is...two more socialists (God willing) to make sure our democratic process always remains in tact.

The Big Night Out

My mom dressed as the evil queen from Snow White. If you knew her, than this would the most ironic thing, probably why she won the costume contest at work. This is the ONLY photo in which our evil queen isn't beaming ear to ear.
The butterfly and Dorothy. The held hands and talked about how they are so big now and that's why they aren't scared of anything.

Mario and his princess sister. I didn't get any photos of Owen and Lyla who were equally as adorable...O dressed in an inflatable suit and Lyla as Raggedy Ann.

My Luca. With his equivalent of the "Wooby". As we were heading out the door to go to trick or treating up and down our block, I told him that he needed to leave Dog behind because he'd need his hand to hold his pumpkin to collect candy. He shook his head and clung tighter. Loyalty is such an admirable quality, isn't it?

Our carved pumpkins. No one, but no one, goes without a tiara around here. Even our carved produce.

They ran home to count candy and then shouted, "Back out again!" when they realized they could count as high as the number of candies they had collected. Apparently that's not enough candy.

A scene from A and M's across the street neighbor's haunted house. All kinds of ghoulish things hid in their garage. Funny that the little ones weren't even fazed. They walked through and said, "This isn't scary."

Even this didn't scare them.

A dragon and his conquest that night. How I love that Luca is going willingly to people now. There is nothing more liberating than saying, "Watch him a second please!"

And we dressed up as two young lovers without kids. Aunt Emmy manned Luca for a few minutes and Mia is big enough to run ahead with the big kids. We actually made eye contact and had a conversation....even enough time for a photo shoot! (Is that weird that I don't like dressing up? I guess it is. And I'm o.k. with that.)