enough

A friend is in a treatment center for Anorexia. She has battled this disease for most of her life and it really is a miracle she is still alive. I can’t imagine how hard it is to deal with something this powerful. It is an amazing accomplishment to overcome this particular demon, if you can. And it's a helpless feeling watching someone starve themself, possibly to death.

I really want to understand Anorexia more, especially having three girls (not that girls are the only ones to succumb to this particular disease, boys obviously do too), but I have always wanted my girls to have a healthy self-image, and what and how they eat is a part of that.

I used to think Anorexia was just about being thin and controlling weight with food (it is that), but I am learning it’s not that simple (duh) and goes so much deeper than that. I’m told one aspect of Anorexia is a need for control and food becomes the preferred vehicle to regaining control.

So maybe focusing less on food consumption and more on finding opportunities that allow my girls a sense of control makes more sense. The last thing I want is to have a demon like this in any of my girl's lives. It's obviously a dark and scary path. As most kids do, my girls welcome any chance to have more say in their lives and I realize this whole thing really is more about me letting go of the need to control them (I'm thinking this will be harder for me than them).

I’m starting by looking for clues from my girls. It could be by letting them choose the way they want to spend their day, or what we cook for dinner, or deciding to either wear pink flower pants or purple velvet leggings to the school performance, or which street we will take to walk our dogs. That sounds silly (especially the dog part), but I’m hopeful it gives them enough. Enough healthy control that is.

Although my friend is not a parent she has managed to share with me some pretty powerful parental advice. I'm praying for my friend and hopeful she finds her way. Always hopeful.

worth reading

On occasion when I read something the power of it will strike me with such force that tears come to my eyes. And it's not that it has made me sad - simply that the truth or beauty of it is momentarily overwhelming.

My cousin just sent me an e-mail with this quotation, and it's so good I had to share it...
People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway.
If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway.
For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.
- Mother Teresa

George Clooney's out of sight...

but the view is spectacular, nonetheless.

Everything (sort of) in moderation

I'll be moderating comments on everything (sort of) from now on. I welcome any thoughts, insights, ideas or opinions that readers may want to share - however, personal attacks and malicious or offensive comments will not be published.

European vacation

It feels like I should be starring in some sort of madcap comedy. Our plane was delayed by an hour and a half, we (well, really it was I) left our camera on the plane when we landed, our luggage was lost, and the rental car company that had reserved a car for us didn't have a car, and sent us elsewhere. Oh, and we didn't have the address for the place we're supposed to be staying...

It sounds like an enormous hassle - especially when traveling with a 4 year old... But it really wasn't that bad (and Jemma was a trooper through it all). It worked out in the end - we got the camera back, found the luggage and got another car - and made our way to one of the most beautiful places on earth.

For the next week I'll be eating ridiculously good food, trying to remember how to speak Italian, and frolicking on Lake Como. The weather forecast doesn't look good - thunderstorms predicted for every day we're here - but at this point I don't even care. It's marvelous to be here. (And today is magnificent.)

love

“You can never spoil your kids with too much love.”
I read this somewhere and it stuck in my brain, still does. I don't want to forget it.

Oh brother

Jemma has a blanket/bear named Cubile (Ku-bee-lay) that she sleeps with - and sometimes carries around with her. She's had him ever since she was a baby. He's threadbare and worn - but she doesn't mind. In fact, I think she considers his fraying fabric one of best features. She pulls threads (which she calls 'seeds') off of the raggedy edges and acts like they're treasures. Sometimes she'll offer one to me, telling me to "put it in a safe place."

Knowing how attached kids can get to their 'loveys', I've always kept a back-up Cubile hidden away in case she ever lost him - but we've never had to take him out... Until recently. Not too long ago Jemma took Cubile to school with her, and he never made it home.

We'd had a busy day, and no one noticed he was missing until bedtime... and by then there was nothing to be done but wait until morning to see if one of the teachers had found him. Jemma was inconsolable. The weather reflected her mood, and rain poured down as she stood by the window crying and calling out his name into the night.

It's hard to watch your child suffer and not be able to do anything about it... She kept calling and calling him, her little voice echoing in the courtyard. After awhile I asked if she thought she'd be able to stop crying. I could see she was struggling to try... Then she said simply, "I can't hold it," and burst into tears. That broke my heart. I just hugged her, and finally she said, "I can't stop being sad, but I can stop calling him."

I got out the spare lovey, and she started to cry again. "He doesn't look like Cubile at all," she said. She had a point. They may have been identical four years ago, but now there's only a passing resemblance. So I told her he was Cubile's brother, and that he could keep her company until we could get Cubile back in the morning. After she carried the new guy around for a bit she conceded that she thought he looked kind of similar to Cubile, and at last she fell asleep holding him.

Luckily, the real Cubile was at school, waiting for us the next day. When we got home Jemma examined the two of them together, and then happily gave me the newer bear to put away.

There's never a perfect substitute for something you really love - but that night I sure was glad Cubile had a brother...

duct tape

Did you watch the movie “My big Fat Greek Wedding”? I loved it and so did my girls. Needless to say we watched it more than a few times. Over and over actually. I remember the dad in the movie thought Windex was the cure-all for any ailment, from getting rid of zits, to curing psoriasis and poison ivy.

Being half Greek, I’m thinking I have the right to my own version of a cure-all too. Mine is duct tape. Here are just a few of it’s miraculous qualities (I admit, some real, some not)…

1. Removal of warts: Took my daughter to the dermatologist to have a few warts removed from her knee, and instead of freezing them off my doctor recommended sticking a small piece of duct tape over them 3 times a day. In a month the warts went away. Although much slower than freezing them off, it is evidently more effective (warts tend to not come back with duct tape removal, while freezing has a higher return rate), and less painful. BTW, they sell bright colored duct tape now, so it makes the process more fun for kids to endure. I found the colored stuff at my local art supply store.

2. Prevents blisters: Wrap toes individually when taking big hiking/walking/running trips. Last October myself and 6 other friends took a one day hike at the Grand Canyon. We had trained for it over 4 months and were as prepared as we could be, but even preparing the way we did couldn’t prevent blisters. One of my friends on the trip had heard about using duct tape and some of us on the hike tried it, others not. Needless to say the ones with duct tape were mostly blister free after the 10 hour hike.

3. Keep me from talking (best use of it to date): If I cover my mouth with it as I sit putting my daughter Allie to bed at night, I can remember to just listen. I think mostly kids want to feel heard, and with duct tape it is virtually impossible to forget. Good thing it is dark in the room. Might give Allie a scare to see (that or a big laugh).

I'm always open to new uses for my favorite invention if you have any.

I'm bored

I’m so glad it’s summer time. The school year has a way of getting nutty with all the things my girls do. I made it a priority not to over-schedule them, but having three girls automatically qualifies our home as frenetic. During the school year I limit them to only 2 after school activities, but if you multiply that by 3 kids, it adds up.

Allie, my 9 year old, looks forward to a summer tradition we started a few years ago and it’s called mommy camp. It usually involves some form of a theme. This year Allie decided on a Hawaiian theme. I think it is her way of suggesting a family trip? Camp consists of a serious amount of art projects, throw in a little handball, a little piano time, and voila!, we have mommy camp.

My other 2 girls Taylor and Brooke love to ride horses, so our noses are filled with lovely horse smells on a regular basis (I'm pretty sure my sense of smell has been permanently damaged by it). But I think the horses are a great sport for the girls. It teaches them about perseverance and commitment, all good. Allie has never liked horses and decided a long time ago her sisters spend way too much time thinking about horses and not enough on themselves.

But summer time, in my book, is only a success if I hear these two words come out of my girl’s mouths, “I’m bored”. I figure if I have slowed them down enough to actually get bored I am doing my job. Micro-managing their activities isn’t good, and without homework or bedtime being an issue, it's good for all of us to be able to let it all go.

Baby names

Our family has been waiting for 'the call' for about eight months now... We're not sure when it will happen - but at this point it could be any time... (pretty much whenever 'the powers that be' in Ethiopia select a child for us.)

In some ways adopting feels a lot like pregnancy - at times it's just 'waiting around' and at other times complaining about the process... but there's always a general feeling of excitement and gratitude. And believe it or not I've started 'nesting'. (Weird how you just start doing that without even being aware of it.) I've started sorting out everyting in the apartment, trying to get rid of some of the stuff we don't need to make a little extra space. Although, most recently I sorted out my closet, and I don't imagine the baby will get much use out of the extra space in there...

Last night as I was falling asleep I was going over girls' names in my head (which - not surprisingly - wasn't helping me fall asleep.) I'm looking for something pretty, but it can't be too common - her last name will be 'Smith', and I don't want her have the same name as 78 other people in the phonebook. I've found a few that I like, but about 35% of them my husband says sound like 'stripper names'...

Suggestions, anyone?

outside the box

My daughter Taylor always finishes school for the year earlier than my other 2 daughters so we have some great alone time for a tiny bit every summer. Time alone with Tay is pretty rare actually. One of the things she and I have started to do together is go to St. Vincent’s Church to give food vouchers out to the homeless every Thursday.

Driving down the street with her yesterday Taylor and I were stopped at a red light and a homeless person held up a sign that read, “Homeless Vet”. I have a system for the times I see someone on the street corner. If I am stopped and within eye sight of whomever is there, I will give him or her something. I have been ridiculed by people in the past for giving out money. “You don’t know what they will do with the cash! Might use it to buy liquor or drugs. And why doesn’t that person just go get a job?!”

Here is how I look at it. Yeah, they might use it for drugs, or alcohol, but who am I to judge? If I were homeless, I would probably want a drink too. And what do I know about that person to assume they are capable of getting a job. I don't know how bad their life has been. They might have been abused as a kid, or worse. Can I really look at anyone and know enough about them to judge. Especially someone I am spending all of 5 seconds with, at the most.

When we moved to Los Angeles 10 years ago, Taylor and I would pass a street every day on the way home from school that is by the Veteran’s Building, and inevitably someone was on the corner asking for money. Sometimes it was a struggle to grab money in time before the light changed or the homeless person could get to our car. Taylor decided she wanted to help too, and figured out a better way to do it.

Taylor went home and put her quarters, dimes, nickels and pennies on the floor. She divided them into equal piles, and put them in individual ziplock bags. With the bags stashed away in our car, we had easy access to the cash and never missed a chance to give at that light again.

Yesterday we were not so prepared, and once again Taylor had another great idea pretty out of the box.

“Mom, why don’t you give out cards with the address of St. Vincent’s Church so the homeless person can know where to get food vouchers every day?” What a great idea. So obvious and simple. I’m on it.

the dog ate my homework

If any of you are wondering why I haven't put up a blog post in awhile, I'm right there with you.

I don't know why, but at the moment I can't seem to be able to convince myself to write anything. I wouldn't call it 'writer's block'... (but 'blogger's block' just sounds silly).

I don't think it's that I have nothing to say - that's a pretty rare occurrence. So I'm probably just being a lazy rat...

Either that or I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, and am barely functioning... Hmmmm, I think I might be on to something!

Smells and the city

This morning Jem woke up and said, "Mommy, what smells so good? It's coming from the window..."

Living in the city certainly has advantages - but experiencing pleasant odors usually isn't one of them (unless you live next door to a bakery.) Typically you won't go far before you'll have to hold your nose not to be bowled over by the stench of garbage, or an unpleasant waft from residual dog poop smeared on the sidewalk...

But for the last couple of days the air has been overwhelmingly fragrant with the scent of some sort of plant that has recently gone into bloom in Riverside Park. It's smell is lovely - strong and dizzyingly sweet. When the windows are open it fills our apartment as noticeably as if an overly perfumed woman were visiting. I can't be sure what it is (I haven't noticed anything flowering) but to me it smells like a fringe tree.

My husband (who, since he quit smoking can't stand strong scents) says it's nice, but that he couldn't take too much more of it. But to me it's heaven. Whatever it is, I'm enjoying it while it's here.

Past (celebrity) loves

A couple of days ago, my husband and I went to the MoMa over lunch to see the Henri Cartier-Bresson's photographs. (I mentioned the exhibit in an earlier blog post, but didn't get a chance to go until just recently.)

While we were walking through the gallery I noticed a man in a straw fedora, and felt a sudden thrill to recognize that it was James Spader. Now, I'm aware that James Spader isn't the kind of celebrity that usually turns heads... (It's not like being at the grocery store and seeing Julia Roberts - or Dr. Oz.) But I have a soft spot in my heart for this particular actor that dates back to 1988 when he starred in the thriller, Jack's Back. To say I had an obsession might be a little strong - but perhaps not... I probably saw the movie 19 times. (A record for me which is rivaled only by the number of times I went to see Star Wars.)

I'm glad to say I let the man enjoy the art exhibit in peace. I didn't go up and talk to him or beg for an autograph - which I did do nearly twenty years ago the time I saw him in a Los Angeles mall...

No. My crush has simmered down to more of a feeling of well-wishing. I haven't seen any of his recent work (I think he's on a television show these days) but I root for the guy.

It can be a little embarrassing seeing old boyfriends... especially when they never knew you were dating. At least my (imaginary) romance with James Spader was with a real live person... When I fell in love with Brandon Lee (who was in the movie The Crow) he had already died...



Henri Cartier-Bresson's photos are on exhibit at the MoMa until June 28th.

http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/968

Telephone

Recently, when I pulled out my cell phone to check the time my 4-year-old daughter said, "phones can do so many things - you can talk on them and see what time it is..." She is, quite possibly, the only person I know who's impressed with what my cell-phone can do. Everyone else makes fun of me for having such a 'lame' phone, and tries to convince me to get a blackberry - or better yet, an iphone.

But I think a phone should be a phone. (Not that I haven't been grateful to be able to take a photo when I didn't have a camera around, and I do use the 'texting' function sometimes... ) But the thought of being 'better connected' (read: more accessible) gives me the creeps. I'm already more 'connected' than I want to be... I can be reached on my cell at almost any time. Do I really need to be able to get e-mails 24 hours a day, too? It's not like I need to have more quality time on the internet. Surfing the web is entertaining for sure, but it's really not what I want to be doing when I'm at the park with my daughter. Or out to dinner with my husband. (Although, I suppose it would give me something to do when he's checking his e-mail at the table....)

It's not so much that I think phones shouldn't be able to do other things - it's just that I shouldn't own them if they can - because it makes it that much harder for me to experience the present moment. So, while I think the iphone is absolutely amazing, I don't want to have one. I know if I did I'd probably be so absorbed that I'd stop paying attention to the people around me altogether... (and not just when the phone rings.)

forgiveness

It’s complicated. I’m thinking it shouldn’t be though. It’s always bothered me that I couldn’t be more forgiving and I beat myself up for not having more empathy in the way (I’m thinking) a really good person should.

As a kid it was pretty simple…your friend does something that hurts you and after an apology, everyone just moves on. I’m no kid anymore and the amount of questions that reek havoc in my head run pretty deep as I try to process this lovely thing called forgiveness.

Do they really mean it?
By truly accepting an apology, am I somehow disrespecting myself?
Will it happen again??

Oy, the list goes on really. And once I finally answer all those questions (because they all need to be answered before I can really accept the apology), I think I should feel pretty good about it, and oh just forgive them already, right? But something usually lingers and stops me.

I couldn’t put my finger on it until yesterday. Talking to a close friend about forgiveness the light bulb finally turned on above my head. I always assumed in order to really forgive, I also had to allow that person back into my life in it's original state. How ridiculous of me. I think that whole biblical concept of forgiveness went a little too far in my brain, and believe me I know I'm far from anything that resembles some kind of a saint. Of course I should be forgiving, but what I don’t have to do is put myself in an unhealthy relationship that hurts not only myself, but the people around me. How incredibly liberating to know I can forgive and also move on without looking back with guilt. Forgiveness just became so much easier. I'm grateful. I hope I can pass this one on to my kids.

Over-sharing

Sometimes I feel compelled to give unnecessary information to random people. New acquaintances at a party, fellow passengers in an elevator, other moms in the park... I offer vehement opinions, or talk too much about my personal life, and then eventually I realize that I'm feeling compromised somehow - at which point I also realize there's nothing to be done about it... Like when I've eaten too much cookie dough.

The other night, for example, while I was waiting for my husband to meet me in a restaurant, the waitress learned that I have a 4 year old daughter, that I don't eat meat, and that when it comes to ordering I'm not good at making decisions...

Maybe I'm just being friendly...

But I'm not friendly. Ask my neighbors. I think they'd say I'm very (hopefully not offensively) private.

My over-sharing is probably an unconscious attempt to get people to like me. Or perhaps - as most of the stuff I share doesn't make me look even remotely cool - I'm trying to convince people that I'm not threatening, or that I'm just like everyone else... which is, of course, a lie. No one is 'just like everyone else', and trying to pretend you are is a sure-fire way to make yourself miserable.

When I'm not feeling present and grounded I often talk out of nervousness. Then I judge everything that comes out of my mouth, and worry about how it makes me look...

But there have been times when I've been able to step outside my ego, and really focus on the other person. Sometimes I'll notice things I would never have been aware of if I were stuck in my own head, and I'm able to interact with sensitivity when I wouldn't have otherwise. (If you've ever given a sincere compliment to someone who doesn't get them often, or if you've had the patience to be kind to someone who's behaving horribly, you may know what I'm talking about.)

But I'm starting to get that 'over-sharing' feeling again... Must be time to zip it.

old is the new... old

Last night I had dinner in the East Village. As I walked along St. Mark's Place I passed a tattoo parlor where a guy stood out front practically throwing fliers at the pedestrians. A couple of people ahead of me had ignored him, so as I went by I took one. It wasn't until I had it in my hand that I realized he wasn't trying to give me one... Understandable, I guess. I'm not really his 'target audience'. I wasn't even when I used to hang out down there ten years ago.

I'm not quite the mom from 'Almost Famous', but I'm not your typical East Village hipster either. I felt out of place and old. And that's not so strange, because at this point there are those who would agree with me that I am old. But this feeling isn't new to me...

I'm reminded of when, in my late twenties, I went along with my 'cool' friends who wanted tattoos. I've always been hopelessly un-hip - and maybe that's why I got my belly button pierced that day... The piercing didn't make me cool - well, it did make me a little cooler - but not as cool as my friends (who decided not to get the tattoos after all.) And I think feeling un-cool is fairly normal... But at the time I also felt old - which seems ridiculous to me now.

I don't feel terribly different from when I was twelve, or twenty-two, or thirty... People say "age is only a number" - and I think they're right. But for some reason whatever that number is seems to me to be 'too old'. I could blame it on our societal obsession with youth, or on an overly nostalgic sensibility - but that would be a waste of time. I know at some point I'll look back at how I am now and think of this as 'young'. May as well start now.

Arly and Gary

I drove past St. Vincent’s Church down the road from my home today. I managed to squeeze in a workout at the gym and was rushing home to see my daughter Taylor. She has officially graduated into high school and is (for me, not her) uncomfortably close to driving a car. I remember getting my drivers license. It was pretty much the best feeling I had experienced since my hormones had inconveniently kicked in as a teenager, and to be honest it feels like yesterday that I was 16 years old. I realize my time with Tay is limited, and sadly that old saying, “Time flys” is hitting too close to home.

Feeling the need to rush was admittedly taking over my drive home, but something caught my eye at the church as I drove by and was able to thankfully get out of my head long enough to glance over.

Arly was there and he was leaning over to pick something up. Gary was standing to his side and was throwing his arms up in the air out of excitement as Arly handed Gary a little white sheet of paper.

Arly and Gary are homeless. St Vincent’s Church has a program that gives food vouchers (on little white sheets of paper) Monday through Friday to anyone that comes between 8:30 and 9:00 a.m. The reason I am lucky enough to know Arly and Gary is because my friend Patricia goes every Thursday to help, and she was kind enough to ask me to join in.

Thursdays have turned into the most rewarding day of any week for me. It might sound sweet, that whole idea of going to help give food vouchers out to the homeless…blablabla, but in my heart I know being sweet is the complete opposite of what’s really going on. I feel guilty whenever anyone says how great it is because in my heart I know I'm being completely selfish. What my homeless friends give me is so much more than anything I could give to them.

And what blows me away more than anything is the generous spirit my homeless friends have. Even in the midst of having absolutely nothing they go out of their way to help friends, or complete strangers, even to find a lost food voucher. I know how Arly felt when he found the voucher for Gary because I saw a familiar look on Arly’s face as he turned to Gary with the voucher in hand. The joy in Arly’s face is still with me now, and I am going to carry it with me as long as I can. And this is Friday, not Thursday. Arly really is taking over my week. What’s that other old saying…”A smile is contagious”? It should be, “Joy is contagious”.

Magic hands

As I passed the local Starbucks after dropping my daughter off at school this morning I felt a craving for iced coffee. The urge was understandable - it's humid and a little sad out today, so a cold treat sounded just right. It occurred to me that home was only two blocks away - and I had everything I needed to make it there... But somehow the thought of making my own wasn't as appealing, and I wondered why.

I have a sister who goes to Starbucks every day for her coffee. She doesn't just pick it up on her way somewhere - often she'll bring it home and drink it there... I've considered the possibility that there might be some sort of secret addictive ingredient in Starbucks' products, but it's also possible that my sister is just extremely particular about what she wants.

Selling coffee is big business because a lot of people want to go out for it. Not only for the social aspect of 'having coffee' with a friend, or because there isn't any at home - but simply because that's what they want... And I have a theory as to why this may be.

I would always prefer to eat one of my mom's salads than one I've made myself - and that's not just me being lazy. For some reason food made by someone else always tastes better to me. There's something about having someone prepare food for you that is nourishing in itself - something about the care that goes into the preparation - care that quite literally 'goes into' you when you eat the food... Maybe that's part of what people are looking for without even knowing it when they purchase coffee. Maybe it feels special because someone made it for them.

I remember when I used to ask my godmother why the food she made was always so tasty she'd say that there was magic in her hands. She was only joking, but I think she was probably right...


*photo by Euson

opposites

Mom was an elementary school teacher and her need to teach didn’t stop at the end of the school day. She was always looking for fun ways to teach my sister and I different things. I credit mom for passing this desire on to me.

When my girls were little I loved to play games in the car since we seemed to spend a lot of time going from place to place. It didn’t take long to discover the unique gift a car ride offered…my girl’s undivided attention. No TV, no board games, no video games, only a seatbelt, window and me with my fingers strategically placed in control of the radio. I will admit the desire to teach my girls was not my only motivation. The word amortize comes to mind…didn’t want to waste precious time. Admittedly I need help in this area, and to be fair this is not something mom passed on to me. Can’t blame her for this one.

Asking my girls what game they wanted to play always ended with the same response, “The opposite game!” The way we played was this: I would say a word and in turn they would respond with that word’s opposite meaning. It’s a pretty simple game, and fun. It usually went something like this, “tall, short….mean, nice…”

If the game lasted for a while the bigger challenge became thinking of new words to use. My girls liked to help when I got stuck and inevitably more than a few words would come up that I was pretty sure had no opposite meaning (like yo-yo’s, sandboxes, or dinosaurs). A few times we found ourselves in a debate about things like why the opposite of a dinosaur is a baby? I never got that one.

Now that my girls are older those car games have pretty much subsided and our iPod songlist seems to be the preferred distraction for helping time pass in our car. But this morning listening to music wasn’t feeling right and we decided to turn the music off. Sitting in silence for a while felt good but we all knew something was missing. After a few moments Allie cried out, “Opposites!” Smiles crept onto our faces and I felt a tinge of excitement in my stomach. Muscle memory kicked in and it was as if we hadn’t missed a day of playing our old favorite game…only this time it was played with a slightly different twist. ”short, Kobe Bryant…giant, microscopic….” Such a great measurement of how time changes our thoughts and perceptions.

Ready, Set... Ummm, go?

My workspace is finally finished. As finished as it's going to be for now... A fresh coat of paint, new light fixtures, re-glazed tub, and LOTS of cleaning is about all I'm up for at the moment.

And the place looks pretty good. I've set up a writing desk, an easel, and a table for sculpting - and the light's not too bad if I want to do some photography. So now the real work begins...

(Time to see if I have any creative juice left...)