I have not been on here for over a month, but I've thought about blogging a lot, in the context of many other questions that have preoccupied me in recent weeks; though directed at various targets, such as technology, media, over-scheduling, and the rat race, all these questions boil down to one deep-seated wish--to slow down our life and give our kids the gift of leisure.
To keep myself from packing it up and moving to a homestead in Maine or Montana, I've immersed myself in a curious mixture of (contradictory) books lately: explorations of the effects technology has on our brains (especially children's growing brains), along with meditations on mindful parenting. The result? A profound reluctance to spend time at the computer and what looks like a temporary neglect of this lovely space; an emphasis, instead, on seizing the present moment and on attending to the smell, touch, feel, and sound of my two ever-changing kids.
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| Raya's favorite Christmas presents: wooden baby carriage from Wooden Wagon and play silks from Magic Cabin |
I have not given up on blogging (far from it), but I'm purposefully making this post an exercise in silence. Much that I've thought lately needs to remain unsaid, as I try to distill my thoughts and to shift the rhythm of our daily lives.
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| losing at chess and smiling about it! |
It's two days past Christmas, and we still have at least half a dozen presents lying unopened under the Christmas tree. That is not because we had too many presents but because the fifteen-minute rule really worked this time: the kids need to wait at least fifteen minutes between opening presents (Sava did not have to be reminded, but he made sure to explain to Raya), and that often results in hours spent playing with one thing before opening the next. It works, I tell you.
Both kids got new bikes, and while Sava is far more excited about his than Raya is, they both insisted on taking their first ride in the rain.
In a spontaneous moment that celebrated the spirit of our family, we checked the weather online on Christmas day and hit Shoreline during the one hour when it didn't rain. Sava was in heaven, while Raya just rode along.
The rich life and the fickle moods of that place never fail to awe me.
Given a chance, Sava can ride the windswept paths along the shore for miles. Tonight right before dropping off to sleep, he talked to me for fifteen minutes about how much he'd like to take a friend to Shoreline, how it needs to be a friend who both loves to ride and loves to talk, how someone "too crazy" won't do, but someone too timid on his or her bike won't work either. Such an amazing psychologist, that kid...
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| carousel at the Zoo |
Earlier today, we spent several hours making our first visit to the San Francisco Zoo. I have never, since becoming an adult, understood the appeal of observing wild animals in conditions of captivity, and since Rado shares my sentiments, we never felt an urgency to introduce our children to the concept of a zoo. Today we visited the SF zoo at the suggestion of friends, and less than an hour into it, Sava asked the question that sat heavily on my mind also:
Why are we just looking at things? What's the fun of this?
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| watching a Grizzly; see it behind the boulder? |
I asked him to hold his thoughts until we came home, so he wouldn't offend our friends, and then at dinner we had a long discussion about what makes going to the zoo worthwhile and what also makes it meaningless. I asked him to please never forget to trust his gut when it comes to things like this, even if everyone else tells him that "it" (whatever it may be) "is fun."
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| Raya with bat ears: a most apt image |
His and Raya's favorite part of the whole day? Riding the carousel and eating Dippin' Dots ice cream. Mine, too.
:::
As anyone who lives around here knows, there's been a
lot of rain the past couple of weeks. I can't get enough of it, even on days when sitting cooped up at home with two small kids begins to feel like being transported to a parallel universe.
We build stuff with pillows, read
many books,
and even do some puzzles.
I suppose these are the days when other families turn to screens for sanity, but so far, somehow, we've managed to do without them. We'll see how long that lasts.
When the sun shines, though?...it feels like a reason to go out and celebrate,
especially if playgrounds look like lakes and building canals in a sand that is normally parched seems like the most natural thing ever.
Raya is almost never cold, even when other children wear boots and jackets.
At home on rainy days, she often spends much of her waking hours either completely naked or in underwear only. I love how much she loves the air on her body.
:::
In between bouts of rain, we've also managed a couple of muddy hikes.
Alviso Marina, with its wide open vistas that soak up the sunshine on a chilly day, is one of our favorite destinations lately. It helps that Amtrak runs right past the park.
It always takes effort to get kids out of the door on a Sunday morning, and there will always be at least one tiny voice (often two) complaining that s/he doesn't want to hike that day; inevitably, however, once we get outside, everyone ends the morning in better spirits.
On this particular walk, Raya spent the first thirty minutes whining that she was "tired."
Half an hour into it, for reasons that never became apparent, she fell into the rhythm of the walk and spent the next ninety minutes happily tromping alongside her dad.
That same walk, Sava also spent about thirty minutes talking to me about the aerodynamic principles of paper airplanes.
He described about half a dozen models in detail, including how to fold them, where to throw them, how to make them fly fastest, etc. The expertise he's gathered on the subject from books astounds me, and it warms my heart to listen to him prattle on and on about it.
Perhaps the best thing about hikes with people we love is that walking opens the heart and frees the mind. When there is nothing in front or around us other than nature and fresh air, conversations that might never happen otherwise arise spontaneously and often veer in unexpected directions.
If we are able to listen, rather than ask, demand, or question, a young child often reveals depths of self-knowledge or heights of enthusiasm that we never might have suspected were there.
With Sava, that happens time and time again, and I feel so honored to have a kid who is now old enough to step back from life, reflect upon it, and then articulate his thoughts.
In another such moment recently, while driving to the library, he talked to me at length about how much his sister's constant talk tires him, how he longs to have moments away from her, and how he does not like himself when, out of sheer mental exhaustion, he lashes out at her.
We discussed strategies for stepping away from fraught sibling situations, telling Raya how he feels, making her accomodate him, etc.
As always, I felt honored (and awed) to watch him reflect on his own instinctive behavior and on the way such behavior made him feel. How many of us adults can use that sort of deep, honest insight about what motivates us and what makes us (un)happy?
Our whole family is better off for Sava's sincere, unadulterated wisdom.
His kind, thoughtful nature makes truly wonderful sibling moments possible.
:::
One such moment happened on a night when dad was late coming home from work and they had some energy to expend after an early dinner.
Wrestling, when mediated by strict "no-hurt" rules, does wonders for redirecting sibling energy.
So does "camping" under the kitchen table.
:::
Another outing over a month ago, before the rain started, had us rock-climbing with one of Rado's fantastic colleagues.
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| view of the Santa Cruz Mountains from Castle Rock |
Steve led the hike at Castle Rock, tied the ropes, and belayed both our kids and us.
Sava freaked out at the prospect of climbing a real rock, but in the end the experience didn't dampen his enthusiasm.
Raya loved hanging on the rope but refused to budge and, when we left, mused in the car to herself,
I wonder why I didn't want to climb and just wanted to hang there.
We wonder, too.
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| see the "baby" sleeping on the rock? |
:::
We miss our best friends and neighbors, who are spending more than a month back home in New Zealand. Before they left, Raya and Phoebe played elves,
took walks around the 'hood,
and jumped in Malcie's playpen.
They also romped around Gamble Gardens,
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| preparing to pull their pants down |
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| persimmons on a leafless tree! |
and waded in the sopping playground.
Our neighborhood can be such a heaven for small kids.
:::
Stuff They Say
In the pick-up line at Sava's school, looking at one of his former Kindergarten teachers:
Raya: I wish Miss C. was my mommy!
Mom: Really? You wouldn't miss me?
Raya: I want you to be my nanny!
Mom explains in detail what being a nanny vs being a mommy means, namely: a mom puts you to sleep and greets you in the morning, while a nanny just takes care of you for a few hours a day.
Raya: Then I want you to be both!
Mom: Guess what? I am both!
There's been much talk lately about the coming summer, about the possibilities of going to Bulgaria vs. going to Montana, etc.
Raya: I want to go on TWO trips!
Moms explains we can't afford both, as it is expensive to fly places.
Raya: I'll give you $5 from my cash register, though I'll need to keep the rest for me and my baby.
On the way home one afternoon, close to dinnertime, I refused to give Raya a snack, so that it wouldn't spoil her dinner. After some whining and then a prolonged silence:
Since you won't give me a snack, I just ate a booger!
We also continue daily discussions on the subject of having babies. She understand (I think) that she can't have a "real baby" yet, but she is eager to know when that will become possible; so, negotiations like the following occur every single day:
Mommy, can I have my own baby when I am NINE?
Last year, only Sava participated in random discussions of "baby Jesus," brought up by things overheard on the radio and at school. This year, Raya became a part of the conversation, too.
Raya: Who is baby Jesus?
Mom: Well, he was someone who was born long ago and was a baby and then was a grown man.
Sava: Yeah, he was born on Christmas. He sort of invented it.
Sava: Mommy, do you know what BFF means?
Me (thinking, "oh, boy, here we go..."): What does it mean, sweetheart?
Sava (giggling uncontrollably): Boys FART forever!
Me, exhaling with relief...
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| chasing paper airplanes with dad |
For Christmas, Sava wrote a letter to Santa which for various reasons I choose not to post. One of his wishes in the letter was for wings that "relly make me fly." When I explained to him at breakfast one morning that no human being has ever figured out how to fly with wings only, he thought about it and replied in earnest:
Well, Santa is a smart guy...plus, he's not a person, he is a Santa!
Raya pretty much potty trained herself for the #1 job. However, #2 is a whole 'nother story. She requests a diaper every time she needs to poo, and when I explained to her recently that she'd be a happy camper if she did not have to smell poopy diapers and if she learned to do her job in the toilet instead, she replied briskly:
I don't wanna be a happy camper. I wanna be a sad camper!
After I left her in the kiddie care at the gym a couple of times, Raya developed some pretty serious anxiety about going there while I took Zumba classes. She now refuses to go to the place without tears (I don't blame her: the plastic crap and the blaring TV in that place nauseate me), and I have chosen not to push the issue, so I only dance late at night once a week, when Rado can put both kids to bed together. Recently on one such night:
I like you when you go to Zumba tonight. It makes me more happier when tati takes care of me.
During a recent episode of pretend play, Sava said that he was going to the Black Sea. Without losing a beat,
Raya: Mama, you are coming with me to the Yellow Sea!
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| wearing a cape made of a sheet of paper and tape at school |
As has been noted on many occasions before, she loves language and retains new syntactic constructions like a sponge. Two days ago, while playing babies on the stairs:
For the time being, I am spreading this blanket ont he stairs. For the time being, everyone will walk on this blanket!
Happy holidays, and a Happy New Year to all.
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