Slip-Sliding Away!
I’ve lamented many times before in this space about the concerns I have, the effects all of our new-found technology is having on our youth. I worry about what our kids might be missing in the great outdoors when they’re all cooped up inside, flexing only their fingers in an up-down or side-to-side Wii motion. I worry that they are barely challenging their brains, while their little thumbs fly nimbly across the tiny keyboards of what used to be talking devices but are now mostly used to send text messages in an almost unrecognizable English language. I pine for my own childhood, remembering how much we did with so little, fearing our children are losing the know-how to “making fun”.
Will they even know what “eye to eye” means without thinking of Skype or “face to face” without thinking it is a reference to Facebook ten or even five years from now?
Because of my worries, I make a concerted effort to put my kids in situations and environments where they have to think for themselves and not let Google do it for them. To that end, my post is a little late this weekend as I’ve been busy watching my children have a great time in the great outdoors!
I suppose we could have fought the traffic and crowds and made our way to a Six Flags park only a few hundred miles away like so many other folks. After all, the forecast promised beautiful weather for us New Yorkers, this holiday weekend.
I chose to take them to our little patch of heaven Upstate, instead.
Six Flags eat your heart out! It turns out our 100% kid-made, Slip-n-Soapy-Slide provided hours and hours of wet fun-filled laughter, and entertainment and I am happy to report my worries have been replaced with faith. Faith in our kids. Great faith that kids will be kids during any era! Faith, that when removed from and relieved of, the technological pressures of text-ing, Facebook-ing and Skype-ing and left to their own devices, kids do in fact resort to using their imagination and creativity! Yes, I am happy to report it’s not gone at all.
It just lies in wait for an opportunity to burst onto the scene and show itself.
It was a wonderful Memorial Day Weekend filled with reading, puzzling, grilling and sliding! It was also a time to remember the great sacrifice of those men and women who have made the ultimate sacrifice that makes such a great weekend possible.
How was your Memorial Day Weekend and what did you do?
Photo Credits #1-5 Karen Szczuka Teich & www.takingtheworldonwithasmile.com All Rights Reserved.
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Resting My Foot On Your Head
After you pull up to the entry booth and dole out a $12 fee per person, a security guard will approach the driver’s window and give you parking options as well as the vitally important low down on where the porta-pottys and the one-real-restroom can be found on the over 500-acres of these magnificently manicured and cultivated grounds. Storm King Art Center featuring large-scale sculptures, in New York’s HudsonValley, is massive and totally worth the trip across the river, up from Westchester or down from Albany.
If you prefer a more docile adventure, you can hop the free tram that hugs the perimeter of the park and enjoy the ride along with the views. If you come with a friend to spend some time, give yourself plenty! You can walk and talk for hours. Trust me, my companion for the day was able to relay the entire storyline of the latest book he’s reading, and then some. His endless supply of words was equally met by endless intertwining walkways. Both of which, I enjoyed thoroughly.
If you’re looking for a more aggressive exercise-art experience, you can rent a bicycle for $20 and bike along the pathways.
A photographer’s heaven, you don’t have to be a lover of modern art to appreciate the pristine landscape and natural beauty that in a few cases actually is and in all cases surrounds, the art sculptors that reside along the footpaths.
After spending one day a week for the past five weeks exploring some great places in my own backyard, like the Walkway Over the Hudson, The Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College, The DIA: Beacon and most recently, The Storm King Art Center; I realize, that although I didn’t plan it this way, this is just what I needed to help me put myself back on a more even-keel for living. In keeping with my resolution, I remain open and continue to move forward with the intention of not letting life pass me by but living it, meeting it and enjoying it, any way I can. I’m blessed with many beautiful friends but this one is different. And in these consecutive and consistent meetings, I’ve let myself get lost in thought and talk and walk, with someone who doesn’t really know me all that well; an impartial friend. It’s been refreshing to spend time away from the details of the past two years of my life.
I’ve allowed myself to leave myself and in doing so, I’ve come closer to myself.
Sometimes, The Universe knows what you need better than you do and provides it for you, whether you’re looking for it or not. You end up getting what you need and what you didn’t even know you wanted at the same time.
Sometimes.
Yep. Recently, I’ve spent time resting my foot on this head and it’s been time, well spent.
Where have you been resting your feet and how have you been spending your time lately?
Related Post: Birthday Wishes
Photo Credits #1-9 Karen Szczuka Teich & www.takingtheworldonwithasmile.com/All rights reserved.
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Moms: Their Insanity, Their Super-Powers and Their Blessings
“Mothers are all slightly insane.”
― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye
It’s true.
Once you’ve brought your bundle-of-joy home and realized that the temporary sleep adjustment period is really sleep deprivation with staying power– like, a few years staying power — you barely catch a few much needed ‘ZZZs before you find yourself entering the realm of unnatural attachments; your child’s affinity for a favorite toy, binky or blanket perhaps, turns well, ugly. Your little tike’s obsession usually rears it’s head for the first time, when you forget, it, which is usually on a very long car ride and it’s usually, way too late to turn around and go back for it after you finally realize what it is, that your child is convulsing over in their car seat. It, you quickly learn, is the one and only thing that can make long car rides enjoyable or absolute hell, lest you forget it. Shortly after this stage comes the era of repetition which could last for several years. Be it a word, a song, a story, a movie or all of the above, moms have heard it, sang it, told it, re-told it and watched it, over and over and over again, a zillion times, all before their little one has reached the ripe old age of five.
And that is only the beginning. Slightly insane is an understatement. 
Another truth: the myth that moms have super-powers, is not a myth.
There is a certain inexplicable, ESP-like knowing that comes with the insanity of motherhood that all moms possess in varying degrees.
My mother could see it in our eyes.
L – I – E, she would say, I see it right there in your eyes. Now, tell me the truth.
How could a kid argue with that? The jig was up and the truth was told. It’s all in the eyes and she also had eyes in the back of her head.
When my kids are in awe of, or aghast by, something I know that they thought was in their own little vault, I merely look at them and say,
Who am I?
Over the years, they’ve learned there is only one correct response to that question when I ask it.
The Mama.
That’s right. I am, The Mama. They know it and The Mama, knows.
It’s true, mom’s just know things, especially when their kids need them. There’s an instinctive inner nagging that just doesn’t quit when one of my kids is in need.
It’s a super-power that comes with giving birth; a natural brain-radar for knowing or being in the right place at the right time with the right people for finding out. It never fades either. To this day, when I‘m upset or in need or retreating and trying to hide from the world for whatever reason, I can be certain of one thing: my mom will call or show up or find me in my darkest hour. And no matter how much grief I give her or how much I lean or unload on her, she is ALWAYS there for me — still.
At 74, she continues to be an amazing power of example.
When I count my blessings and I often do, the fact that she is still with me and such an integral part of my and my children’s lives is right up there with my children’s health. Being a mom is not only a blessing in my life, it is the biggest privilege of my life, an honor that I don’t take for granted and am constantly working to improve upon. Motherhood requires insane amounts of patience, understanding and perseverance and all too often, I find myself falling short or being short when what was really needed was a little more time or just an ear and not an opinion. The beauty of being a mom thankfully, is that it is a lifetime gig with a chance to do better tomorrow.
Children are adaptable, forgiving and full of surprising, heartwarming rewards.
Recently, it occurred to me, that every time I make dinner for my 13-year old son, he “thanks” me before leaving the table.
Thanks for dinner, mom.
And the other evening, my 11-year old daughter didn’t want me to spend too much money on knitting needles for her. Knitting needles! I know NOTHING about knitting. I bought them anyway.
“Oh mom, these needles are so beautiful – thank you!”
Seriously!?
Making dinner for my son is a pleasure and I was spending money on my daughter’s new hobby and passion for knitting, not playing video games, KNITTING!
It can’t possibly get any better than that.
Here’s to moms EVERYWHERE, their insanity, their super-powers and their blessings!
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A Box Full of Surprises!
“My mama always said life was like a box a chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.” ~ Forrest Gump
Unless of course, you’re like me and you break off a little piece before you eat it so you can see what’s inside. Then you always know.
The famous quote from the Tom Hanks hit movie, Forrest Gump, of the early ’90s, never rang true for me. I couldn’t make it apply. I’m too particular about the chocolate I put in my mouth. I need to know!
Recently however, I read somewhere that life is like an endless box of Cracker Jacks. Now this I could buy into! It resonated with me. My nostalgic mind recalls the excitement I had as a child, reaching inside the colorful box with the sailor on the front, never knowing for sure what I was going to pull out of it next. It was full of sweet and not-so-sweet surprises! Once you delved inside, it was hard not to keep going back for more. You could find yourself face to face with sweetness, holding a sticky situation, a salty peanut or combination of all three. It’s your choice whether you try to sort out the handful of mixed ingredients, piece by piece or just take them all in one big mouthful, knowing, that you get what you get and you make the best of what you get. Sooner or later, you will pull out the prize. Satisfaction guaranteed, simply for finding it.
There’s not a whole lot of mundane in my life. Looking back in yearly increments especially, I’m always amazed at where I started; often with a very certain outcome in mind, only to end up in a place and among people I couldn’t have predicted if I tried. Always surprising. I’ve learned to go with the flow, as more often than not, I find I am exactly where I’m supposed to be and with whom I need to be. The idea of looking at life as a Cracker Jack box is very appealing. It’s comforting to know that beyond some of the not-so-sweet handfuls of mixed-up stuff, a special surprise patiently awaits being pulled from inside.
What’s your analogy for life?
Photo Credits #1/2 Google Images/Wikipedia
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Dinner For Two
I have a standing dinner-date every Thursday with the same guy for the past five months.
Truthfully, I was the initiator. In fact, at first he resisted. I insisted. And although it started out a little shaky and often felt tentative right up until the last-minute, somehow, he always “showed-up“. In the beginning clearly, it was to appease me, more than likely out of a feeling of obligation. I understood. I gave him space. There was a lot of silence at the beginning too, not exactly awkward; more like “dead air”. I let him breathe and get used to the idea of spending time alone with me. I searched my brain for stimulating conversation and tried to bring up things I thought would interest him.
I have an amazing relationship with my daughter for which I am very grateful. My reluctant dinner-date — who also happens to be my 13-year old son — and I, have struggled quite a bit over the last two years. Living life on life’s terms and dealing with all that’s come with it, has taken its toll, created confusion, distortion and a disconnect between us.
Grappling with how to get him back, I tossed, turned and weighed many possible scenarios over and over in mind. I kept coming back to this weekly, dedicated time and space, this Dinner For Two.
At some point, you have to listen to your heart, trust your instincts and take a leap of faith. I had faith in him and me and the mothering and nurturing I’d done for the first eleven years of his life. And even though it was very difficult for the first few months, I never gave up.
Neither did he.
You can bore through hard things and get to the other side, as long as you don’t give up.
Patience and perseverance paid off. Time has healed.
It occurred to me this week, that now, it’s a given and there’s no doubt that we’ll have dinner on Thursday, just him and me. It’s become part of the schedule, part of the “routine” of our week.
It’s something I look forward too. It’s not however, something I take for granted — not for one second. I cherish and appreciate this time well spent; this time where I can just be my boy’s mom.
There are no more awkward moments of silence. Our discussions spread across a wide range of topics these days. I’ve learned a lot about various basketball, football and baseball players as of late. He asks me about my day and my interests. He’s forthcoming with the happenings at school.
It’s not perfect, nothing is but we’re connected again and I’m grateful.
“A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity, it dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.” — Agatha Christie
Photo Credits #1 & #2: Google Images
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Boy, Oh Boy!
While it’s absolutely true that a pregnant woman wishes only for a healthy baby at the end of those “joyful” nine months of having your body completely taken over by a foreign being, it is just as absolutely true that pregnancy does weird and inexplicable things to a woman’s way of thinking. Crazy thoughts invade an otherwise rational woman’s mind and have a way of resting there awhile – at least they did for me, anyway. During the majority of my pregnancy with my first child, I was convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was having a girl. I just knew it. There really wasn’t another option. No further discussion required — thank you. In my mind’s eye, she was going to be just like me. By the time I was rounding out my seventh month, I had her name and future completely mapped out in my head. I fantasized often about the things we would do together; what I would show, teach and tell her. It was a neat little perfect package, wrapped sweetly in pink, frilly, feminine love.
It wasn’t until much too close to the eleventh hour of my due date that panic struck one day while I was trying to picture what my baby girl would look like and imagine her holding my hand, when the truly frightening thought occurred to me…
What if it’s a boy? A boy?? A boy.
It couldn’t possibly be a boy. I knew nothing about boys –let alone caring for and raising one. I dismissed the thought, immediately.
What came next of course, was the blessing of a healthy, baby boy whom I instantly fell in love with. In addition to the miracle of birth, there is that instantaneous bond that forms the moment mother and child see each other for the very first time, it’s the bond that creates an unconditional love, forever. That once horrifying “what if” thought evaporated as if it never existed and the focus immediately turned to…
I love you and I will try my best for you — always.
That’s how it was for me anyway. And so, the journey began. Enter Spiderman, Scooby-doo, pirates, dirt and worms in my fridge; fishing camp, building rockets and traps, collecting bugs, catching frogs and conducting experiments. The journey is thirteen years in the making now and includes football, soccer, basketball and baseball too.
Between two kids and three teams, practice and games, I’m either on a baseball or a soccer field three or four times a week these days, not exactly what I envisioned when I first began to fantasize about my children, better for sure and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Besides, a few years after the boy arrived I found myself rounding out my seventh month of a second pregnancy, this time, fantasizing about the brothers that would build an empire. In my mind’s eye, it was a solid little package, neatly wrapped in bold testosterone.
I was certain of it.
Until of course, she appeared, all soft and sweet and smiling-like.
A girl! She was a girl! What on earth would I do with a girl??
Tell me, were you surprised or did you find out what the gender of your child would be?
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Striving to live life on life's terms while taking the world on with a smile.
