Bringing that superhero to life

A friend of mine posted this on her Facebook page the other night. I love it. I have engaged that superhero on a few occasions this week. And that imaginary friend of mine has been most helpful in allowing me to stick with the word “no “and not beat myself up for it every five minutes. It is a crazy thing that we can feel so confident – ready to take on the world – be an amazing being – and then a second later doubt who we are and what we are doing this with this one, crazy life of ours.

Nonetheless, I can see myself maturing around these thoughts and emotions. The other day, I went to Maria’s soccer game. She started the first half and I cheered her on while sitting with the other moms. The ball got close to her but she didn’t move towards it quickly. I have learned to keep my mouth shut during these games and not yell “come on Maria!” Or “get to that ball!” However, just because I am not yelling it does not mean I am not thinking it. She had a couple of balls hit near her and she just did not have the oopmh to go and grab them. When she got subbed out I went down to her bench to see if her feet were hurting her. She caught me coming and waved me away briskly.

“Mom, no parents are allowed down here!”

I translated that to mean I’m not allowed down there. I could not help myself. I started to turn around but quickly chirped over my shoulder “run after that ball when you get back in there!”

I walked back up the stone steps to sit with the moms. I watched Maria on the bench. She sat with her arm wrapped around one of her soccer friends. And when one of her good friends scored a goal a few minutes later, she jumped up from the bench and cheered her on. She was jumping up-and-down and yelling “great job Lucia!” I thought to myself about how I would react when I was her age. I would have been the one on the bench secretly upset that I did not score the goal. I probably would have given a half cheer, if anything. Yet, here was my daughter, cheering wildly for one of her friends. She has her own personality and her own reasons for playing the sport. She doesn’t necessarily play to be the number one scorer on the team. She enjoys being a good partner on the team and rooting on everybody. Hence why she’s a captain. It is not about her – it is about the team. I thought about this my entire way home. I decided that when Maria walked through the door I was going to apologize. I wanted her to know that my competitiveness got in my way, and that the game was for her – not me. I told her she should play the way she wants to play. God love her that she can be so enthusiastic and sincere for her teammates’ scores. It made me realize, too, how much I thrived for recognition as a kid, which is why it was so hard for me to congratulate others because it took it off of me. Woo, a lot of thinking going into a few words to my daughter but that’s how it gets as I get older. Constantly questioning and trying to understand.

And trying like hell to make sure that superhero is by my side.

What did you learn?

So just a day after I posted my last blog about giving the kids feedback on how they played during their games, I read this article. Life is about constantly growing and learning, right?
I love this approach. It isn’t off-putting like giving feedback may be to a kid who just listened to the coach drone on about the game for 15 minutes. It’s not accusatory like giving feedback about certain plays on the field. It allows the child to think through actions on the field and arrive at his or her own self-feedback. It also reinforces that we are all here to learn – in sport, in school, in relationships. We are far from perfect at any age, and need to embrace the constant quest. 

To that end, I think I will add this to my repertoire and ask myself this same question at the end of my days. 

“What did I learn in that meeting?

“What did I learn from giving that presentation?”

“What did I learn from chowing on that sheetcake at 11 pm?!”

Lockets, hash browns and pigs

I managed to get in a lunch with my girl and a zoo trip with my boy last week. I canceled another lunch with a girlfriend in order to surprise Ri because I felt so bad about how we started our day. I had come home from running in the early morning and Ri was standing in the kitchen bawling. I asked her what was the matter and she told me she lost her locket that she had gotten for her birthday a week earlier. At first, I was calm and told her to search her backpack. We talked about where it could have been lost. I thought she’d find it in her backpack so that soothed my emotions. When she didn’t, I proceeded to get a bit angry in my tone telling her she had to be more careful with things. Ok, maybe telling isn’t the correct verb. More like yelling. She bawled harder and ran upstairs. Ugh.

While she was crying to Jon, I found the locket in the pocket of her backpack. I called her downstairs and gave it to her. Then I hugged her. Then I told her I was sorry for raising my voice. Then I told her that I have to work on not getting so upset. Then I took a deep breath. She finally stopped crying and gained some composure before heading off to school, and I gained a big guilty chip on my shoulder the rest of the morning.

  
So I biked over to her school and surprised her for lunch. We walked to Stauf’s and got a bagel and hash browns. And we had a most enjoyable talk about what she wanted to do this Summer and what she’s liked most about fourth grade. As we walked back to school, I apologized again for getting upset with her. I explained there was a better way for me to teach her about taking greater care of things and that I didn’t want to raise my voice like I did. She did her Ri thing – flicked me in the arm and laughed and said it was ok – wanting to move onto a new topic. But I hope she got where I was coming from and values the open communication between us. We held hands on the way in to school (not long before that ends) and i gave her a gentle flick as she walked to class. The guilty chip fell off my shoulder as I biked back into work. 

  

The next day, I headed to the zoo with Mario. Jon took the first shift and I took the second. Mario was so excited to have Jon go with him; he was mildly happy to have me. Dad is the prized possession for sure. When I arrived, they were walking towards the cheetahs. Mario gave Jon a huge hug goodbye and told him he loved him – I can never get enough of that action. Then we raced towards the cheetahs. But we’d get about 500 feet and then have to stop to play (5 first grade boys – what else did I expect). 

  
We finally arrived at the African zone only to have ten kids walk by us yelling “you just missed the cheetah run!”  Ok, great, thanks. I wanted to pelt them in the head. Luckily, our boys were unphased. We still got to see the giraffes and hang out in a safari tent.

   
   

But best of all, Mario tracked down some pigs for me to see in the farm area. Big ol’ heifers laying around and snorting. Mario was so excited to find them for me.

  
Such a doll when he wants to be. We walked back to the front of the zoo to meet up with his class. Mario was charged up because they got to ride in a Coach bus since the yellow buses never came to pick them up. “It even has a bathroom in it” he exclaimed as I gave him a hug goodbye. Good reminder to me – appreciate the simple things in life.

Pure exuberance

Dad called me as I was unloading bottled waters and Doritos from the gas station to the kids.
“We are heading out to the farm, dad,” I confirmed after seeing his name appear on my phone.
“Great, I was hoping you’d say that! We will see you soon!”
I made sure the crew was buckled – I had pleaded for Sophie and Quinn to come since Ri and Mario wanted them to experience the farm so badly – and veered onto the highway. We drove to Exit 186 and turned off the tv. I made them look for animals. They were excited to get to the farm and see the dogs and horses and chickens. I was excited to see Ms. Elena.
We pulled up and Ri gave Peepaw a huge hug. Rocco went nuts as soon as he jumped out of the car. The boys ran down the hill to play badminton. Yes, the chaos had arrived. Little Elena better get used to the Menkedick energy.
We decided to take the dogs on a hike through the woods. Jorge placed Elena in the Ergo Baby and we were off. Dad and the girls led the way. The kids found the swinging vines and I held Rocco back to avoid him biting at them as they swung. Sar and Jorge broke off from us in the meadow – they didn’t want to overdo it since it was Elena’s first woods hike – and dad and the kids and I continued on towards the pond. The kids couldn’t resist the creek laying to our right. I should have put their boots on them before the hike but I was busy gooing over Elena. Maria, Sophie and Mario jumped right down into the creek not caring if their shoes got wet. Quinn was not so ready. He asked if I’d walk with him and help him traverse the spots without many rocks to use as landing spots. We were very clever finding ways to scale the muddy banks and avoid the water. But eventually we had to climb the thorn-filled hill to the path. Meanwhile, Sophie found a darling salamander.
We rounded up the kids after a bit so we could get to the pond before it rained. Mario was already complaining about wet feet. I scaled down to help him get the sand and pebbles off his feet and put on his soaked shoes. I can’t stand wet feet on a hike but I did not tell him that or else I would have convinced him that he had to be carried the whole way back. Rather, I got away with holding him only a few times throughout the rest of the hike.
I should have listened to dad when he questioned whether we should hit the pond before the creek. About five minutes into resuming our hike to the pond, the kids were complaining of being tired. And hungry (Ri). I yelled up to dad to teach us about some of the trees we were seeing and leaves we were brushing against. And the nature lesson began.
Dad pointed out a beech tree and it’s smooth light grey bark. Next he crushed a spice tree leaf in his hand and gestured for the kids to try the same. They “ohhed and ahhed” over the smell. He showed us a cherry tree (with its jagged puzzle piece-like bark) and a red-bud (with its heart leaves). We found a sassafras leaf and learned that it smelled like root beer. I was learning as much as the kids and just as excited. As a young child, I did not experience the woods and camping out like my younger sis and brother did with my dad. When I go on a hike with Sar, she’s able to point out an oak, a hickory, a certain wildflower, and a great deal of that knowledge was rooted from her hikes with my dad. So when dad pointed at the bark on the cherry tree and described its texture, I felt like an eight-year old absorbing all of his knowledge. And as I watched him walk ahead of me on the trail and answer Quinn’s questions, I felt fortunate to have this time together. You are never too old to learn.
We made it to the pond and Rocco was in heaven. He jumped right in the water and fetched every stick we threw to him. He refused to get out of the water each time he swam back with a stick to us; he’d just wait for another to be thrown.
The kids watched for a bit and then asked for water. Yikes. We had forgotten to bring water. Luckily it wasn’t scorching hot but I knew we were in for some whining on the way back. Again, dad saved the day.
“Let’s play 20 questions! I am thinking of an animal….”
And the questions and guessing began. Then Maria thought of one. Then Mario. Then me. And before we knew it, we were at the abandoned house. And that was super cool for the kids to see.
“Can we go in it?” asked Quinn. Dad couldn’t resist, even when Maria chided “Grandma Meg will be upset if you go in Peepaw.”
He took the kids in and made them be very careful. He talked about who may have lived in the house and held the kids speechless talking about ghosts. They were fascinated. If there’s one gift that I am incredibly grateful for receiving from my dad, it is the gift of exuberation over the simplest of things. Be it a salamander in the creek or a wildflower popping alive in the garden or an abandoned house. He brings positive energy into any place he travels and I’m so grateful to have witnessed that over and over growing up with him.
We traversed the hill back to the house and the kids – who were starving the entire trek home – were enamored with the chickens again and forgot about food. That gave time for dad to go to Dandy Don’s (true name) and get some good ol’ hot dogs and chips for lunch and it gave me time to hold Elena Rosa. Oh, what a doll baby girl.

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I have never seem an infant make so many different shapes with her mouth. I could stare at her all day.
After lunch, the kids wanted to play in the creek down by the house. They also wanted to go in the infamous waterfall but the water was rushing fast after the hard rain so I made them stay in the “wading pool.”
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They even posed “O-H-I-O” while in knee high muddy water.
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They were full of crazy energy once they got Salesville hot dogs in ’em!
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They couldn’t resist jumping in the dog pen and playing. What a hilarious shot our photographer Jorge got:
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Unfortunately, I had to be the party pooper and round everyone up for home even though I seriously wanted to put in my notice and nanny for Sarah full-time rather than head into work on Monday.
The kids begged for ice cream on the way home and I think the brief sugar high they got from McDonald’s Oreo McFlurries combined with the hiking and playing knocked them out. An hour from home and they were zonked.
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And what a way to end a beautiful day – kids in bed as soon as we got home, peanut butter-n-chip ice cream waiting for me, and the Sunday New York Times on my computer screen. Pure exuberance.
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