Happy Chaos (9 page)

Our big family at one of our favorite places in the universe, the magical world of Disneyland

 

There I stood, watching my daughter dance with her cousins under the crackle and boom of the fireworks. She had found her way through her fears, just like my gut told me she would.

Sometimes we want to help our kids make good decisions—or we want to make good decisions for them—and it feels like our heart and gut are telling us one thing, and our brain is telling us another. If our kids tell us they don't want to try something new—maybe a class or a sport or even a new food—we're not sure if we should push them to do it, or if we should let them be. I've learned that sometimes the best way to figure this out is to really listen to your children. Then ask questions, and really listen to their answers. When kids say they don't like something and don't want to do it, sometimes it just means they don't like one part of it. And if you find out what that is, you can ease them through it instead of giving up on the activity altogether. For instance, Poet loves her dance class, so I was surprised when she came home from class one day and said she didn't want to go to dance class anymore. So I kept asking her questions, and I really listened to her, and finally, after a long heart-to-heart, it came out that she just didn't like the style of dance that they were doing for a few minutes at the end. Kids can often see things as black or white—“I love it!” or “I hate it!”—and sometimes they need our help to see the gray areas. Once I reassured her that I would talk to the teacher and that she could sit out that part of the class if she really wanted to, she was fine, and back to dance class she went. The next day she was dancing her heart out and even joined in at the end. She just needed to be heard and understood. Sometimes all they need is for us to listen—really listen.

Is there anything more amazing to watch than a kid who discovers they love something new? It's such a joy. You may not be able to send your future astronaut to the moon, or take your little marine explorer scuba diving, but there are lots of ways to encourage our kids' interests without breaking the bank. Poet has started really loving math, so at dinnertime we'll go around the table doing simple math problems. And a trip to the library is the cheapest way of all to encourage kids' interests. If you have a kid who loves music, let them play with your iPod and make their own playlists. Pretty soon you'll want them to make playlists for you. And if you have a budding artist, make sure that they have a little spot all their own to make masterpieces without worrying about making a mess. Because following your gut can get messy—but it's so worth it!

Question of the day: Was there one specific parenting moment when you realized it wasn't going to be as easy as you thought it would be?

“When my son was diagnosed with autism, and all the challenges that brought, that definitely showed me being a parent was NOT going to be a walk in the park at all times.”

—Sheila

“There wasn't a specific moment, but more of a realization that I was spending more time washing clothes and cleaning up the house than anything else.”

—Ashley

“Giving birth.”

—Nicole P.

“Breastfeeding for sure!!”

—Collette

“Colic. I think I cried as much as my daughter did.”

—Cari

 

still remember the romance of my honeymoon. The beautiful waves, the tropical setting . . . the hurricane evacuation.

Let me back up.

Jason and I had originally wanted to go to the Caribbean for our honeymoon, but it was hurricane season, so everyone advised us against it. And we listened! We're not crazy—we wanted calm seas and warm breezes. That seemed like a lovely way to start our life together. Our rabbi suggested Mexico, and we thought: Perfect solution. We're there.

Our wedding was beautiful, a stunning affair! After the reception there was just enough time to pack up and go to the airport. I remember being on the plane, and how excited we were to be beginning this amazing new chapter in our life together. We were full of optimism, radiating happiness like light.

Our wedding day—truly one of the happiest days of my life

 

When we landed, we thought,
Wow, it must have been a really popular time of the year to travel to Mexico.
There were thousands of people in the airport waiting for flights out, wall-to-wall travelers and luggage. Somehow we managed to miss the signs of panic in the air—maybe due to our newlywed bliss. The greeter for the hotel seemed a little odd and kind of half-smiling as he packed our bags into the van, but we didn't take much notice of that, either.

As we drove to the hotel, though, we got a little more observant. “Wow, it's kind of cloudy,” I said. “Wow, it's kind of windy,” Jason said. Meanwhile, tiles were flying off rooftops, and the trees were being blown perpendicular. All the greeter for the hotel would say was “Oh, it's just a little bad weather.”

Yeah, it was a little bad weather, all right. It was Hurricane Mitch, the most powerful hurricane of the 1998 season, and by the time we'd driven a little farther through vacant streets lined with boarded-up buildings, it became clear that there was a full-on evacuation under way. When we got to the hotel, the only other tourists left were a couple of seventy-year-old storm chasers, and the waves were so high that they were actually crashing against the glass doors of our hotel room.

That was it for us. We rushed down to the lobby and said we wanted out—immediately. Anywhere in the world. The first available flight was going to Mexico City the next morning. We reserved our seats, and we headed back to the airport to wait it out along with all the other storm refugees we'd passed on the way in.

And that's how it was that my perfect wedding was officially consummated in a tiny Mexico City airport hotel room. My godmother told me later that I should consider myself lucky—not because we survived Hurricane Mitch, but because a disastrous honeymoon trip was a very good omen for a long and happy marriage. So far, it seems like my godmother was right. My own personal theory is that our honeymoon is just one more example of fate laughing at our best-laid plans. We flew away from a hurricane . . . into a hurricane. Of course!

Life keeps teaching me to expect the unexpected. I can try to predict the likeliest possible scenarios, but I know it's just a matter of chance as to whether I'm right or not. I know that if I'm flying with my girls, it doesn't matter how much I've packed in my carry-on, it will turn out that the one thing I didn't pack is the one thing I need. I also know that even if I changed a diaper right before we got on the plane, the second we're up in the air and the fasten-seatbelt sign is on, my kid is going to poop. And there's not a thing I can do about it but smile, deal with it, and pretend we're all somewhere else, somewhere peaceful and quiet.

I remember the first time I thought Poet had seriously injured herself. She was a year and a half, running around the hallways of Jason's office, and she fell. It was her first knot on the head, and I freaked. I thought the world was ending. We took her straight to the ER and called the pediatrician from there. His words were something like “What are you doing in the ER? It's just a knot.” Just a knot? Just a
knot
? Oh.

None of the usual clichéd parenting advice could possibly prepare me for the realization that I will never stop worrying about my girls
for the rest of my life.
And I have story after story of close calls—enough to keep me awake for years. Like the time when Jagger was two years old and escaped from a hotel room in Washington, D.C. She was riding on the elevator downstairs, all alone, when my husband found her. And I will never forget the day I got a call from Poet's preschool telling me that she'd fallen on the playground and severely cut herself right above her eyebrow. Our doctor sent us to a pediatric plastic surgeon right away (a brilliant piece of advice that made all the difference), and he did a beautiful job. Not only did he pick me up when I saw the cut for the first time and almost passed out, but he was so gentle and caring with Poet. In future years Poet will no doubt enjoy comparing her scar with all her friends' scars.

What I've learned from these and other similarly insane incidents is that I have
so
much less control than I ever thought over what might happen in my kids' lives. Each scary experience stops our hearts a little bit. No matter how hard we try to protect our little ones and keep them safe, they will end up with their own scars and scraped knees.

What do we do when we get one of those calls that stops our hearts, or we see our kids walking in with blood on them from a big fall? Take a deep breath and try to stay calm. Of course, I am also the mom who has panicked a hundred times, but I try my best not to. I nearly passed out when I caught sight of my daughter's injury from the playground. But I definitely learned from that. Something else I learned? It's amazing what a difference a fun bandage can make. Our girls have a tendency to get really upset at cuts and scrapes, so we keep them distracted by whatever cool bandage we have in the medicine cabinet.

You can't predict everything that might happen. Even if you tried, chances are that life would still throw a surprise at you. So plan in advance as much as you can. Keep your pediatrician's number in your phone, some ice packs or frozen peas in the freezer, and a first aid kit in the medicine cabinet. Take a CPR class or two like I did (yes, I'm a crazy mom who took two), and make sure your home is a safe place for curious little ones.

After you do all that, you'll still worry, and you might even panic now and then. It's the nature of being a parent. The good news? We're all in it together.