Happy Chaos (20 page)

Here we are on our family vacation in Mexico

 

W
e get so busy in our everyday lives that we often forget to find the balance.

Between school drop-offs and work, we get busier and busier, and before we know it, months have gotten away from us. Other than family dinners, moments during the weekend, and limited time between work projects, we sometimes forget to take the time with our family to really nurture each other and ourselves.

Something incredible happened to me this past holiday season—something that, had I not experienced it myself, I may have overlooked completely. The experience has opened my eyes in a whole new way.

In the midst of our family's busy life, it became more and more clear to me that my kids were getting bigger faster than I could catch my breath. They were breaking out of the cocoons that once nurtured them, and becoming more and more their own people.

I couldn't believe it, and yet I couldn't stop it, either. My two-year-old was getting bigger by the second and my five-year-old seemed to be turning fifteen.

I was struggling. I felt more lost as a parent than ever before. I started questioning every move I made up until that point. Had I done something wrong? Was it okay that on a few occasions I had let them watch
Hannah Montana
or music videos? They love pop music, but were they being too exposed to things they shouldn't be? Was I pushing them to grow up too fast? I immediately started monitoring them more. We started doing more reading, playing, and cooking together—anything to keep them kids for as long as possible.

We had regular heart-to-hearts as a family and an open line of communication, but I still felt they needed more from us. At one breaking point I found myself in the bookstore looking for books that could give me insight. Here I stood with a thousand pregnancy, newborn, and toddler books, but I wondered about the next steps. There was a void on the bookshelves, and the message seemed to be “If you haven't figured it out by now, you are screwed.” I came home and wondered what to do next. How do I become the best parent I can be to my children?

Then something amazing happened that truly shifted things. It was over the holidays and we decided to try to shut everything else down and just be with the kids. On Christmas morning we opened presents, and then Jason handed me an envelope and there it was . . . Inside were two passports that he had gotten for our daughters, and a homemade gift certificate for a trip to Mexico. I couldn't believe my eyes. We were leaving in less than a week. I was thrilled! And then the anxiety set in. How would I meet my work deadline? What about the girls' school, etc? Then I realized that I needed to just let go.

So a week later we began our journey together, just us and the girls, and immediately I realized that this was exactly what our children needed—and what Jason and I needed. It was time for us to be a family—no work, no babysitters, no distractions from each other. We played in the pool, read books, drew, and ate together. We walked and danced. We took each other in and did it with open arms. I took the time to ask the girls regularly what they needed, not just in terms of the day, but in life. We cuddled, we laughed, and we shared. When a meltdown would arise, I would find myself handling it with a calm that does not come to me quite as easily when we are in the throes of everyday life. I am aware that not everyone has the luxury to take a family vacation like this. But whether it is a camping trip for a few nights, a campout in the living room, or a hike in the woods, we can carve out that time to just be together. Roasting s'mores, telling stories, playing ball, swimming, and laughing hard. Making that time for our kids to know that their voices will be heard, and that what they have to say really matters, will make all of the difference in the world to their evolution as people. I guarantee it is those memories they hold on to. Some of my greatest memories growing up were when my mom would take my big brother and me on a trip. She would save up all year to take us someplace special, and those moments are some of the closest to my heart.

So take that family vacation. Everything else can wait. Know that it is the best investment for our little ones. No matter how short or long your trip, the most important thing is that when you are with them, you are present, and that it is not ten or twenty percent of Mom or Dad that your kids get, but the whole package.

And after the kids go to sleep, it is the perfect time to have some alone moments as grown-ups. You can snuggle up, read to each other, or watch a movie, and take time to share and reflect on the life you are building together. It gives you strength for the love you share and respect for the parents you are.

Planning a family vacation can be fun, but it can also be stressful, so try to do it together. What is something that all of you can enjoy? Another fun idea is to take turns planning it. Family vacations don't need to break the bank. A super-fun family vacation can be a “staycation.” Decorate your living room like Hawaii or with a Japanese theme. You can hang pictures and put up a tent in the center of the room draped with different fabrics. You can surprise your little ones and say, “We are going to Japan (or Hawaii) for a few days,” and read stories inspired by the culture, or cook foods that you would eat in that place. Some of the best family vacations can happen right in the comfort of our own homes. It is the point of making it special and unique that they will remember, not the cost or extravagance of it. Some of my favorite family vacations were when my mom would lay out some blankets on the small balcony of our little apartment and we would sleep under the stars.

Question of the day: What is your most embarrassing moment ever?

“Falling down the stairs in high school while the guy I liked was right there, downstairs, with his friends and saw me landing on my butt!”

—Amelie

“As a klutz with a recurring case of foot-in-mouth-disease there are a lot, but probably the worst was in the 6th grade (right when girls start caring a lot what people think about them) my family went to Jamaica and I got corn rows. My mom asked me the night before I went back to school, to let her take them out, but I was tired and went to bed. Then in the morning I realized I didn't want to go to school with them so I asked her to take them out and she said no, that she would do them that night (she was busy getting 4 kids off to school). So, I went into the bathroom and did it myself and came out with a GIANT 70s afro and asked to take a shower to flatten it. She said she wouldn't let me be late because I had made a bad choice and sent me like that, ensuring months of torture and teasing!”

—Kelly F.

“7th grade. Everyone has that one teacher that's just cute. Mine was gorgeous, just graduated college, and had to wear a tie because he was getting confused with high school guys. One day we were messing around in our ‘free time' in class. I was doodling . . . hearts and cupid and love stuff. He walked by my desk to see his name in a heart with mine. He bent down and said he was taken. My face turned bright red.”

—AnaLiesa

“I'm still embarrassed about this. I grew up dirt poor. I was 12 years old, and finally able to wear a real bra. It was a hand me down bra though from my mother's friend. My mom put the bra in the dryer so it melted the plastic part that snaps. I only had one bra, and that was it. So, all my mom could find was a HUGE safety pin that was rusted. One day at school it was raining outside so we had to go into the gym to wait for the bell. I was sitting slumped over, and as a guy was walking by I hear ‘Ouch! Man something is coming out from her back, and it cut me.' I was mortified. I walked real fast to the bathroom to see what had happened. The safety pin had come undone, and was sticking out of my shirt. I fixed it, and when I got out of the bathroom my friend was asking what was wrong. I just ignored her and went to class. And yes I had to wear that bra the next day, and the rest of the school year.”

—Shelley

 

I
'm really, really used to embarrassing myself. In fact, I'm so used to it that most of the time I just laugh when it happens.

Probably one of my most truly embarrassing childhood moments happened when I was eight years old and I met Muhammad Ali. He was being honored at a big celebration in Century City, and I was beyond excited. My dad was a boxer (a four-time Golden Gloves champion), so I'd grown up loving boxing and totally loving Ali. And there he was, in a beautiful white tuxedo, surrounded by fans. I was waiting to meet him, in complete awe, when someone from
Entertainment Tonight
decided it would be a great moment to film The Greatest holding Punky Brewster. Unfortunately, I was holding a Cherry Coke at the time, and when the overenthusiastic producer lifted me in the air to Ali, my drink went flying all over his face and his gorgeous white tuxedo. I was horrified. Beyond horrified. I swear the room went silent. Then, with a twinkle in his eye, Ali looked at me and said, “Did youuuuu do this to meeeeeeee?” before breaking into laughter.

Parents are always swapping stories about the embarrassing things their kids do and say. And yeah, we've had our share. Like the time we went to a big party and Poet made friends with the daughter of a famously gap-toothed rocker. Poet looked up at him and said, “You are missing your tooth?” The rocker looked kind of shocked and he said, “Uh, what did you say?” I immediately cut in and said, “Oh, she just said she likes your tattoos!” Unfortunately he had perfectly good hearing, and he knowingly replied, “No, she didn't. She said that I am missing my tooth.” He smiled and I smiled back. Whoops.

To be honest, I'm more likely to embarrass my kids than the other way around. Luckily, they didn't get to see my performance at Walt Disney Concert Hall. A few years ago my husband took me there to see the Los Angeles Philharmonic. As much as I love classical music, I had never been to the symphony before, so I was beyond excited. The music was so beautiful, but every time it stopped, I would clap and cheer. I couldn't figure out why no one else was clapping. I was getting downright upset about it—here were these incredible musicians playing their hearts out for us, and the audience was too blasé to show their appreciation. So I decided to stand up and clap over and over again! Finally my husband explained to me that you don't applaud between movements at symphonies. I sat back down as everyone stared at me in disbelief.

And then there are all the wardrobe malfunctions I've had in my life. In Hollywood, I'm constantly missing the mark when it comes to what to wear. I had a meeting a few weeks ago, and it was really hot. Not to brag, but I rarely sweat. (Believe me, I have other issues, but that's not one of them.) But that day, I don't know if I was nervous, or if it was the silk blouse I was wearing, but my pits turned into round, wet moons of perspiration. Somehow I didn't notice my expanding pit stains while I was waving my arms around in the meeting. Then I went to the bathroom and caught a glimpse in the mirror. One look at myself, and I wanted to lock the door and never come out. I ripped my blouse off and tried waving it around to dry it out, but it was no use, and for the rest of the meeting I kept my arms glued to my sides.

A super-hip and cool friend of mine had a birthday party for her daughter the other day, and the girls and I were invited. I didn't have a whole lot of time to figure out what I was wearing, but I managed to pull something together and thought I looked fine . . . until I got to the party and stood next to the truly fashionista moms. Meanwhile, I looked like I was headed to the playground. A friend of mine finally leaned over to me and said, “Soleil, is your sweater
supposed
to be inside out?” Uh, no.

For Halloween, we went to a local pumpkin patch, and apparently I was the only person in the neighborhood who didn't know that this was
the
Hollywood see-and-be-seen pumpkin patch. It was a huge scene when we got there—video camera crews, photographers, and celebrities in cute outfits posing with their kids and their pumpkins. Meanwhile I was braless, wearing a North Face sweater, baggy jeans, and a beanie. I didn't want to see and be seen. I just wanted a pumpkin!

Now that Poet's getting older, she doesn't hesitate to let me know when I'm embarrassing her. There was a Mommy & Me ballet class at her dance school this week, and although my husband has always told me that I have two left feet, I couldn't wait to go. When we got there, all the little girls were paired off with their moms, but Poet refused to dance with me. She actually told me that she was too embarrassed. Ouch. So Poet danced with her friend, and I danced with her friend's grandmother. Then I thought, well, I might as well go for it, right? You would have thought I was on
Dancing with the Stars,
the way I threw myself into that class. Let's just say that it wasn't pretty.