The Tough Stuff

On occasion I am bogged down by the tough stuff.  For the most part I am far more inclined to live in the moment as opposed to getting stuck in the muck, but when it happens it certainly does drag me down.  As the mother of bi-racial children I am acutely aware of certain realities.  The realities that exist for my boys and my husband that when they are not with me I do not face at all.  I often wonder where I fall.  What role I will play in shaping their views when it comes to race and racism.

I am often told by white friends and family that I am just far too sensitive.  I have even been told that history shows that racism is in the past.  That is not my experience and as the blonde hair and blue eyes look back at me when they say those words, I cannot fathom how they would even begin to formulate that opinion.  So I feel stuck because I cannot educate someone who has this belief that they are mistaken.

When those people who share my own blood do not stand up for my immediate family, I feel deeply betrayed.  The feeling washes over me and my blood runs cold when I see a post on social media about how privilege does not exist or a meme regarding the historical significance of the confederate flag should be acknowledged and protected, a “like” for Paula Deen or and all lives matter hash tag.  As a result I have excluded them from my life and the lives of my children.  You are not allowed to like a photo of my children, but not fundamentally support them in the most basic and human way.  To proclaim that their lives matter as much as your children’s is needed because right now it is clear that they do not.  There is a preponderance of evidence to the contrary and it is continuously ignored by so many.

It is not enough to say they would be angered if my children faced something that their child would never have to face and in the same breath say it won’t because I will raise them well.  What if they were questioned if the house they live in is actually their own, stopped on their bike for looking suspicious or walking around the neighborhood with two of their friends visiting.  This is what my husband faced as a child growing up in an affluent neighborhood.  When he tells people many shake their heads in disbelief rather than in disgust.  He was raised so well and he speaks so well.  How could this be? And yet some people readily dismiss this knowledge and opt for the fact that there had to be a reason aside from race that prompted the attention.

These are the excuses that I cannot stomach.  The lack of action as people are killed.  The articles and opinion pieces that rise up to pardon what is happening.  The use of different language to mask the guilt of the worst of the worst.  That it is playing a card to even bring it up as an issue.  The lack of acknowledgement that there is a problem at all.  The fundamental inability to be empathetic and to walk in someone else’s shoes. To see a black child as their own and yet I do because they are my own.  And this is where I am stuck.

Where does this leave me and for that matter where does this leave other white parents of bi-racial or black children? I am struggling deeply with the answer because we are not the typical “good” white people.  We do have a stake in this for the sake of those we love the most.  Yet we do not understand what it is to be black.  Is it up to us to change the world?  Do we take up the megaphones and stand in the front lines in the protests?  Do we try to educate those around us that a flag coming down does not equal justice for so many lives lost?

From what I read and the discussions I have had, the answers are no because we are allies for racial equity and justice.  I still do not know how to effectively be an ally.  I am struggling with the role and the fact that I have not been given any clear responsibilities.  I want to scream “Just tell me what to do and I will do it!”.  Within me there is an inherent need for leadership and direction.  I will wait for that guidance to come soon.  Until then I will continue to try to find ways to make a difference until hopefully someday “the talk” means the same thing to all parents and the definition of tough stuff is universal.

Summer Fun

My boys are loving summer.  Thanks in part to our new fenced backyard with the play set, the sunroom/playroom and the pool, we have essentially created a fun zone that is all our own.  It is an amazing thing to watch my boys run and tumble and throw and kick and swim and laugh.  Lots and lots of laughs!

Swimming is a family adventure.  I think I love it the most.  At the end of the work day I rush down the stairs and put on my swimsuit and run out the door into the sun.  Instantly I am refreshed.  Fast walking, but never running, to the edge of the deep end of the pool I yell “Count me down” and Brenton yells “One, two, three” and I dive in and swim to meet him at the shallow end ladder when I grab him and bring him in with me.  Then Rolston brings Emerson to me and I put him in his floaty and pull him as I run in circles in the shallow end.  Rolston stand by the edge as we all yell “Go daddy, jump” and “One, two, three” over and over until he finally jumps in.  He and I take turns minding Emerson and swimming with Brenton.  There are rafts and splashes and water guns for all of us to enjoy.

When we get too cold or too pruney we emerge from the water towels waiting for us warm from the sun.  We take our seats in the play yard and I open the bubbles.  Blowing bubbles and drying in the warmth of the sun as the boys yell and run in the grass trying to catch the glistening spheres of joy.

Usually Rolston leaves us to go grab whatever item goes on the grill that night.  We all love his grilled chicken thighs.  Marinated simply in Italian dressing overnight they end up tender and delicious paired with some fruit or a salad.  Summer dinner is the best dinner.

We have more than enough to make us happy in our own backyard, but as summer break emerges into far too much down time, the need for a few scheduled activities becomes clear.  We thought long and hard and then found it.  T-ball!

Brenton began t-ball this week as part of the summer fun schedule.  He is far from the best player on the team, but he sure does love it.  In fact when we went to purchase his glove he was so excited he decided he wanted to stay in the sporting goods store.  He basically had a huge fit in the parking lot because well let’s face it to a child only the toy store is a better place to hang out.  So  in the car he wore the glove. When we got home of course I could not remove the glove from his hand.  The clear decision was he must nap with it on.

The day of the first practice it was a scorcher and he proudly put on his new team shirt and hat.  He paraded like a peacock ready to start this thing. This meant that the moment practice started he decided to come and sit with me.  Once I coaxed him to field some grounders he was hooked and I backed away quietly as he joined the fray.  He ran to me on water breaks all sweaty and smiley.  He called out “Watch me mommy” and shrieked with excitement when he ran the bases.

There is nothing more powerful than the joy and energy of a child doing something they love.  It swept me up in the excitement.  I felt lucky to be a part of it.

When we got home we headed right for the pool and he counted me down “One, two, three”.  It was a hot day and it was refreshing.  We swam and he giggled when I asked him if he liked t-ball he looked at me with a huge smile and said “yes mommy”.  I knew he meant it.  He has been practicing batting and throwing and catching the ball.

Emerson gets in on the action.  One day he will likely play t-ball too.  He seems to have a natural athletic ability.  Throwing and kicking came early for him just like walking and climbing.  In summer he can be outside and run until he cannot run anymore.  Or eat rocks…yes I said eat rocks.  We have to be very careful with our Big Beefy boy because he really likes to try to eat rocks.  So far we have stopped him, but I do worry one day he might actually do it.  His spirit at times reminds me of our amazing family dog Dutch who passed away before the kids were born.  They are both incredibly cool and funny, brutishly strong, extremely social, very intelligent, flirtatious and charming.  The funny thing is Dutch also liked to eat rocks too.

It is not always laughter and smiles.  Sometimes there are tears when they fall, when a bubble pops, when it’s time to get out of the pool, or worse when it’s time to finally go inside for the night.  Still there is nothing better than the simple life of summer.  The time outside soaking in the togetherness in the sun is the best time.  Sometimes we do this with friends which makes it even better.  We are lucky to have so much summer fun!

Our Little Oner

There is something about that first birthday.  I know now a days we count all the months up until that first birthday with almost as much fanfare, but it is still one of the most memorable days of their lives for me because I will carry it with me through all the other memories.  I know they will not recall the day and still I want it to be perfect or at least perfectly memorable.

For Brenton we did the big huge family celebration and a small celebration on the actual day which happened to be Thanksgiving.  For Emerson we celebrated while at my parents home in NC.  It was the day after Easter, so it felt like a week of celebration.  It did in fact last two days because Brenton fell asleep before we planned to sing and have cake.  Instead of disturbing a much needed slumber to do something that could easily be done the following day with even more excitement and a well rested preschooler, we opted out.

I know Emerson will never know his birthday really lasted for two days, but I will always remember.  I will remember the look on his face as we sang to him and that moment he decided to shove the whole piece of cake into his mouth.  He was perfect and it didn’t matter what day it was.

He had his party hat on and his big birthday balloons in his hands!  He had no idea about the scheduling change and in the end I think it was even better to have an extended celebration.  I think what a second child reaching the first birthday milestone has taught me is an exercise in not sweating the small stuff nearly as much as I did with my first born.   As a result I believe Emerson is a more agreeable child.  He goes with the flow.

His birthday celebration was small and intimate.  Just the immediate family in a house on the Neuse river in the warm spring air the day after Easter and the day the day after Easter.  I cannot think of a better place to be to capture the memories.

Gigi helped to buy some presents from Brenton to give to Emerson.  A foam sword, a lizard and of course the balloons.  He also got him a card.  Emerson squealed and chirped and hit Brenton with the sword. He also ran with the balloons and giggled when they hit the ceiling if he let go of the string.  Cause and effect is one of his favorite games.  He was thrilled with the presents from his big brother.

Brenton sang Happy Birthday to Emerson for weeks following his big day.  It was perhaps one of the sweetest brotherly moments I have seen from the two of them.  Their strong bond is astonishing in many ways because they truly have a care and concern for one another that is clear and Brenton really enjoyed celebrating for his brother.

My special moment is telling Emerson all about the day he was born just before he falls asleep on his special day.  He was exhausted and as his eyes gently closed I just finished telling him about how the doctors brought him to my chest and I cried big tears of joy that he was in my life forever.  I snuggled his face to mine just as I did on that day and kissed him ever so gently.  That is how I celebrate through remembrance.  My husband had a different yet still tender and touching approach.

Rolston has enjoyed inventing another nickname for his younger boy who shares his name…the little oner.  Because well, he is a oner and oner is funner to say! So we embrace it as the wee one turned one.  He is running around now with ease. Although at times he loses his balance and collapses in a heap, he is no longer our wee baby.  He definitely transitioned into a full scale toddler.  He is our very own little oner!

Working Traveling Mother

Some consider the set up of our family unusual.  My husband stays home with our children and I am the breadwinner.  Although I work from home, on occasion my job requires that I travel.  Usually I am gone for just a few manageable days and only about a plane ride no more than an hour and a half away.  That is until recently.

With a new initiative on the horizon, I was making travel plans for an international trip that would have me away from my family for 7 days.  My confidence was shaken in my husband’s ability to be on his own with two very young children.  Not because I thought he couldn’t do it, but because it is a lot to handle and it is relentless.  If they were older I would have no worries, but when everyone requires something at all times and no one can even dress themselves it is a daunting challenge.  He saw it too.

We asked my mother to come up for the week and Gigi was pleased to offer her help and made plans for her time with Brenton and Emerson.  I felt a sense of relief that she would be there.  Relief for myself.  I did not want to leave my guys, but I had to go.

When the day came Brenton was convinced I would be flying the plane.  After my trip a few weeks earlier he convinced himself that I was a pilot.  I thought why not that would be very exciting.  Much more exciting than the life of a training specialist.

Crying was not an option until I was out the door.  Gigi provided Brenton with comfort and a distraction and I was grateful.  I shed a few tears of sadness and relief that soon it would be over and I would be gone and back before I knew it. 

Being overseas was empowering in many ways.  I realized I can be away from my family and not melt into a puddle of tears.  I am stronger than I thought. Video chat is very helpful.  Also staying busy is useful as well.  It is a far better thing to make use of the down time I had to see the sights then to stay cooped up in a hotel room missing my family.

Taking pictures everywhere I went to show my children how exciting mommy’s travels were.  I relished the opportunity to see a city where I had not been before.  It was an experience I will never forget proving I am a competent business woman and world traveler.

At times I consider the impact of our nontraditional arrangement on our children and what kind of men my boys will one day become.    Will they seek out someone who wants to stay home with the children or who want to work? As long as they are strong and intelligent and will challenge them and make them happy, I will support them no matter what type of life they choose.

All I can hope is that I have been a good role model for them to take the path less travelled if that is what you want to do.  Sometimes there are challenges in doing things differently, but if I was afraid of what people thought my boys would not exist at all.  Nontraditional is my tradition in many ways.  My mother has always said I choose the hard road.  I tend to disagree with the fact that it is harder than any others.  It is just different.

My path is my own and to all the working traveling mothers who support their families in leaving instead of staying home, I salute you.  It is tough to walk out that door, but so rewarding as well to know all that I do for my family.  I am lucky to have the opportunities that I do and to be a traveling working mother.

The Second Child

The second child is different.  Even if they are both boys, the second child will inevitably be different from the first. People told me this before I had my second child and it was not that I did not believe them, but thought how different can they really be?

The answer is really really different.  Emerson wants to sleep and he likes to sleep.  Emerson loves to eat.  He also loves to feed himself.  He is autonomous in ways that surprise me at the tender age of only 9 months.  He is warm and tender and also like a truck ready to roll right over you to get what he wants.  It is not that he smiles more or less than his older brother, but it is a different smile.

Emerson’s energy is different.  He is not as frenetic as Brenton can be.  His energy is focused.  He seems to know exactly what he wants and what he wants is basically simple.  Usually it is food that he wants.  When he is tired he tells you.  Emerson can actually tell you exactly what he wants.  He also is very likely to just go and get it.  That is the biggest difference is his ability to communicate which has always been a struggle for his brother.

I spent so much time with Brenton worrying about milestones and playing like the books told me to do so he would achieve the milestones on time.  This time around I don’t even read the emails about the should be doing this at this point.  I see them come into my inbox and promptly delete them.  Part of that is a lack of time and the other is a lack of concern.  He seems to be doing well and also I trust myself more.  It helps that he has a playmate at all times.  Brenton really enjoys his brother mostly and will play with him all day.  He is constantly engaged between the attention he receives from Brenton, or his father or me. Not to mention his grandparents and even other children at the many events he attends at the libraries with his dad.

There is not as much fear and anxiety placed on a second child.  I am not sure if that makes him different, but I am different.  It certainly takes less energy to just enjoy him as opposed to worrying about him all the time about things that I could never change. It also makes me more sensitive to the ways I raised Brenton in his first years until his brother arrived.

Brenton learning to share has been good for him.  It has been a struggle at times.  He does not have the communication skills to tell us certain things about his feelings yet and as a result he can experience high levels of frustration. His brother helps him through it.  He makes him laugh or tries to help in small ways.  It is amazing how someone so small can light up a room.  Both of my children possess intrinsic gifts of drawing people into their worlds.  Brenton is very social and engaging while Emerson is joyful and kind.  They complement each other.

I think a lot about the fact that Emerson makes a wonderful brother to Brenton and vice versa and think about the years to come.  I know that I still wish to have one more child.  One more will complete our family.  Three feels right.  In the here and now though, I am thoroughly enjoying the early years of the life with our second child. He is pure sunshine and light!

Emerson's First Christmas

Emerson's first Christmas was filled with new family traditions. Brenton and GiGi baked a pie together. They had so much fun together adding the ingredients to the bowl and using the big mixer.

We kicked off the formal festivities at our new church with the service for all ages. It was filled with familiar songs and the obligatory pageant complete with children dressed as animals as cute as cute can be. When we arrived a young girl walked right up to Brenton and I said hello little lamb to which she replied "baaa". A toddler bear stole the show and I couldnt help but wonder what the boys would be next year when they were in the pagent. The service concluded with passing of the light and Emerson and Brenton were mesmerized by the candlelight.  We sang Silent night and Joy to the world. It was simply wonderful.

We made our way home and had lasagna which is a revived tradition. Emerson ate so much lasagna. He earned his Big Beefy title with all he has eaten in the past two days. Then it was time for Christmas jammies and bedtime.

We decided to skip the wrapping paper to be kinder to the earth and to the tiny humans who would have to tear it open. We arranged all the toys neatly around the tree after putting everything together and adding batteries. Then it was off to bed for us as well.

Morning came quickly with Brenton waking before 5. We waited for Emerson who woke at 530 then we marched down stairs. Greeted by two vacuums, one upright the other a canister, Brenton was so very excited he could not contain himself and immediately began cleaning.

Emerson made a beeline for the tree crawling as fast as he could. He got to his toys and promptly began putting them all in his mouth. It was the test to find the best of the bunch. He really could not seem to decide. I like to think they were all a big hit.

We all loved our presents. It was so much fun watching everyone check out their loot. My parents make it complete. We are so lucky to spend this time together enjoying the day.

Next we ate our big Christmas breakfast of eggs and bacon and a cinnamon butter braid. Emerson had so many scrambled eggs. He just loves to feed himself.

Then it was naptime. Brenton napped with his canister vacuum and watched a Land Before Time one of his new movies. Emerson was just too excited to sleep and barely slept. It was ok because we got ready for our special Christmas dinner with Great Nanny.

She arrived at one and we had wine and cheese while she opened all of her gifts. Then it was time to eat again. Just before we sat down Rolston said "He is standing" and I turned quickly to watch my sweet baby just stand there for almost 10 whole seconds. At 8 months old I find him so impressive.

This new feat apparently made him quite hungry and he thoroughly enjoyed his twice baked potato and filet mignon. Brenton barely ate and vacuumed the whole time. He is obsessed.

We chatted and ate and then had profiteroles for dessert and Emerson finally succumbed to sleep for a bit in his high chair. It was time to take Nanny home after dessert and Papa and GiGi took her and her big pile of presents.

We relaxed together in the playroom with the boys playing with their new toys. Then moved into the family room as the sun went down and it got colder. We watched Frozen and folded some laundry. Brenton still vacuuming and Emerson in his walker.

The day is not over yet but I can say this, for me it was a wonderful family filled day and I think Papa and GiGi will be back soon. I heard prior rumors that Brenton and GiGi may bake chocolate chip cookies. Just what we need some more food but next week we will head to upstate NY to hang out with my aunt and my cousins for the new year so we will just bring some cookies to share.

Until then I am sure there will be more vacuuming and more family fun. This was a great day and I know I will look back fondly on Emerson's first Christmas which just so happens to be our first Christmas in the new house! I am the luckiest girl in the world.

The First Day of School

As Brenton’s third birthday approached we anxiously awaited news from the school district to determine if he would qualify for an IEP and continue his speech therapy through preschool in the district.  We had 3 separate meetings two involved testing and the final session was the determination meeting.  The whole way to the meeting the day prior to Brenton’s third birthday I did not take a full deep breath.  As we waited to hear the determination from the child study team I clenched my fists and worried that my sweet boy would not continue to get the services he needed to continue to find his words.  I worried he would stumble and that I would not be able to help him in the way he needed.  Then the lead said the words I had been hoping to hear for weeks and months…he qualifies for the program!  I let out all the air in my body with a sigh of relief.  They took notice and actually commented and I expressed how worried I had been and how relieved I was.

The news was he would start on December 2nd , a Tuesday, after the Thanksgiving holiday it would give the students a chance to regroup before his arrival.  We would have a meeting with the teacher and also see his classroom and the other students.  He would receive speech therapy twice a week just as he had been in our home for the past year and a half first with Lori until we moved and then with Suzanne his beloved “Aunt” as he called her who gave him dinosaurs and a special book for his birthday and graduation from early intervention. Even Aunt was relieved to hear he was in the preschool program and reassured us he would be just fine.

He would take the bus.  The bus?  Yes the bus.  I was assured that he would love the bus and I was confident that this would be the case, but I did not love the bus.  It was an idea that truly frightened me that my 3 year old could possibly get on a bus each day and go over 10 miles away from me each day.  I knew I would cry on the first day, but I would not let him see me.  I would smile and be excited for him and send him off with love in my heart.

On December 2nd with his new jacket, mittens, R2D2 backpack and specially selected first day snack, he boarded the bus and there were a few tears when he realized we were not coming with him.  I turned as the bus pulled away and cried until I got into the house and then called to check on him and his wonderful teacher told me when she took him off the bus he was all smiles and ready for the day. As the days passed the tears became fewer and the resistance melted into small smiles and then waves and then “Bye Mommy” accompanied by a huge smile.  It did not take long for him to get acclimated to the routine.

His teacher Miss Cheryl communicates with us daily via an old school composition book and I write back snippets about his nights or the happenings when he arrives home.  We receive updates on the week ahead and what he has accomplished each day.  She told us he quickly became the class greeter learning all the children’s names and waving as they arrived.  He also claps for his classmates when they complete a task.  These are the things I cherish because I hear it more and more how he is a warm and loving child.

He says hello and he smiles and he makes people feel good.  We have heard this from people occasionally before and now we really see our gregarious boy with his amazing confidence blossoming before our eyes.  Apparently when he gets off the bus in the morning he tells the bus driver to have a good day.  She commented that he is a wonderful child and so happy. Of course he presents us with more challenges at home on occasion, but it is wonderful to see him succeeding in a new and social environment.

He is doing so many new things.  He is saying a few small sentences.  He says please and thank you or well “doh” his word for thank you.  He is counting to five.  He can match shapes and colors.  He also pees on the potty at school.   He is singing.  He is finding so many new words and so much more confidence.  He is truly blossoming.

He is also asserting his independence.  He is willful and stubborn.  He tests us.  He pushes limits and boundaries.  He loves his brother and he shows his emotions.  He hides from us and refuses to brush his teeth or pee on the potty or put on his shoes.  He is a three year old boy.  He is full of energy and laughter and hugs and tears and so many more things.  He is complex.

He is a person not just a child and I am realizing more and more what it means to raise a person.  It is an abstract concept until you have children.  It is daunting in many ways.  I try to embrace it and do the best I can.

To me he is brilliant and special and I realize that he always will be to me no matter if he is the last to do something or the first or somewhere in between.  He is my handsome smiling happy boy that I see as he gets on the bus each day when he turns and smiles and says bye Mommy. That is the face I will remember when he is older and a sullen teenager who is embarrassed by my mere presence.  I will tell him when he gets older about his first day of school when he was 3 and how I knew then that he could do anything because he amazed me with his courage that day. 

I am grateful I get to be there each day to put him on and get him off the bus and ask him how his day went.  We play king of the mountain in the morning while we wait for the bus or chase each other around the yard or climb the tree or say hi to the neighbors walking their dog and in the afternoon I hold his hand as we walk toward the house where I have his lunch waiting.  I know these times are precious and few.  I will cherish them all as he grows up.  Each day he shows me more and more of what he is capable of and I am so proud of him.  I will carry these memories with me always especially that first day of school.