Safe in Mommy's Arms (or, Let me Cuddle with you While You're Still Little)

David and Elizabeth and I had a fabulous time in the Bay area over the Memorial Day weekend. We hit the road on Friday afternoon as soon as David was dismissed from school, and braved the Los Angeles freeway traffic with 100,000 of our closest friends and neighbors. It's becoming clearer and clearer that the kids are seasoned travelers. Just plop them in the back seat, hook up the DVD player, and they are good to go. Even though it was almost 11:00 p.m. when we arrived at the apartment in Newark, they were still pretty wired. Of  course, they crashed the second their little heads hit the pillow.

Whenever we head to Newark or, as the four of us refer to it, "up north," David and Elizabeth usually have just one goal in mind: to see their cousins Allison, Wesley, and Chloe. They are giddy (bordering on hyper) with excitement at the prospect of playing non-stop with the younger members of the Hastings gang. When their eyes were not affixed on the DVD screen, David and Elizabeth spoke of little else but of the cousins: when they would see them first, what they would do together, and how they would happily cause all sorts of mischief.

And so it was the case that plenty of cousin-related play time was scheduled into the weekend's activities. In fact, when we arrived at their house on Sunday afternoon, Allison, the oldest of the Nor Cal Hastings kids, announced to me that they were having a "Cousin's Sleep Over." Sure enough, it had been all arranged. My sainted brother-in-law, John, and his wife, Teri, voluntarily - and without any coercion whatsoever (well, maybe by their own kids, of course) - held court over a house full of kids ages ten and younger for more than 24 hours. By the time Glen and I arrived to their house mid-morning on Monday to claim (or otherwise take responsibility of the So Cal Hastings kids), the party was still going strong. Allison had beautifully braided both Chloe and Elizabeth's hair, the girls had tucked fresh flowers behind their ears, and all had embarked on a walk to a nearby lake with Uncle John.

As the afternoon rolled around, I anticipated that the kids might eventually start winding down. And, no, that didn't happen - not when there are tree houses to explore, trampolines to jump on, and water guns to fight over in Allison, Wesley and Chloe's backyard that can only be described as kid-inspired and kid-friendly wonderland.

But, at around 3:30, I heard the familiar siren song of a four year old calling from the yard. Elizabeth had either stubbed her toe, decked David, Wesley, or both, or tripped ... no matter the cause, she was weeping. Arms outstretched, she pleaded to me for an "Up Up!" and gazing at me with tear-filled blue-green eyes. I was a gonner. How could I resist?

We tucked into the large, comfy leather chair in their den, and Elizabeth curled up in my lap. I was secretly breathing a quiet prayer that she would fall asleep in my arms.

Wish granted: within 10 minutes, she was out like a light. My wonderful mother-in-law, Mary, quietly brought over a little blanket and draped it over Elizabeth, whispering, "I just want to cover her little piggies!" Within another 10 minutes, I was asleep, too.

I think that was probably one of the most wonderful snoozes that Elizabeth and I have ever taken together. I sat there, in the leather chair that refused to let go of its comfy grip on me, relishing how wonderfully small, sweet and innocent Elizabeth felt in my arms. I tried not to think too much about the fact that, one day soon, she'd be too big to do this. I tried banish from my mind the notion that when she's a teenager, she might not even want to be in the same room as I. I tried to stay present in the moment, and looked upon the sweet face of my beautiful little girl who, eyes closed, and binkie firmly between her lips, slumbered peacefully in my arms.

Maybe I am doing something right

Our weekend schedule was shifted a bit as Glen returned to Southern California on Thursday and headed back up on Saturday. This, of course, was so that he could be back in the San Francisco area to run in the 100th Bay to Breakers run with his brother, John.

Sunday was also the day of Harvey Mudd College's 53rd Commencement, and so the kids had the treat of hanging out with their very favorite babysitter (and teenager), the lovely Bailey. When I returned home at around 3:30 on Sunday, Bailey and the kids were wrapping up yet another showing of "Finding Nemo." All was well, and it appeared that duct tape had not been used. This is always a good sign.

I retired to our home office, where I spent the better part of an hour tinkering on the computer, doing mindless internet browsing and playing on Facebook. David was nose-deep in book #2 of the "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" series. When I pulled myself away from my laptop and re-entered the real world, David was still buried in his book. And I noticed that my bedroom door was closed.

I figured that, yes, the other child of the house must be in my room.

So, I instinctively knocked on the door. Yes, I know. It's sort of silly given that it's my bedroom, but politeness is hard-wired in me.

No response. So, I quietly opened the door.

There, nestled among the seven (or so) decorative pillows on our bed was Elizabeth, contentedly playing with her Leapster hand-held video game. She seemed happy as a clam, and oblivious to the outside world.

I just had to stop and stare at her for a few moments, and take it all in. Why I found it profoundly amazing (and almost breathtaking) to see this little person so independently find a quiet place in which to just be alone with her thoughts (and her video game), I'm not quite sure. But, there she lounged, happy to be just with herself. And that she chose mommy and daddy's bed as a soft, quiet, and safe place in which to burrow touched me to no end.

So, maybe Glen and I are doing something right ... making sure our kids are confident in the knowledge that home is a safe, secure, warm, and cozy place ... in any corner, and on any bed. In a world where so many kids' nightmares are lived in broad daylight, at home, each and every day, I can only count among my many blessings our ability to provide a safe haven to two amazing little people.

A Perfect Mother's Day

There are two days out of the year in which I get to be unabashedly lazy. I don't really have to lift a finger (at least around the house), and I can pull rank if I want to curl up for a nap. Those days are: Mother's Day and my birthday.

So, today being Mother's Day and all, it was no different. And I am a lucky, lucky girl.

Glen woke up at about 6:00 this morning and headed out to get donuts. The kids were fast asleep, and I was still wafting between consciousness and unconsciousness. The second he left the room, I conked out again. The next thing I knew, he was home and asking whether 1) I wanted a donut and 2) whether I was ready for breakfast. I nodded a groggy "yes" to the first question, and a "no" to the second. Soon, three donut hols appeared out of nowhere. I nibbled, and dozed. Somewhere around that I time I muttered an approximate time that might be good for breakfast. I think I said something like, "um ... 9 ..." before nodding off.

My sleep was happily interrupted here and there by my sweeties. Elizabeth padded into the room at around 7 (or was it 8?) and crawled into bed. I would not let her steal my spot on the mattress, much less my pillows and blanket. I sleepily implored her to scoot over, and she happily complied, saying, "I'll take Daddy's side of the bed!" We cuddled for a few minutes before she became quickly bored with the whole ordeal, and ran off to watch Sunday morning cartoons on Nickelodeon. Back to dream land I went.

And then, the festivities began. At around 9 (or so), David and Elizabeth cracked open the bedroom door, and David shouted "HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY" with great gusto. Behind them was Glen, carrying a tray of bacon, sourdough toast, and diet Coke on ice. Oh, and a donut. Oh, and a small bag from Tiffany & Co.

I munched away and opened my sweet cards. The ubiquitous little blue box with the little white bow held a small charm to add to my charm bracelet. Because the kids and I are regular customers at the Baskin Robbins in Claremont, the charm was a sweet ice cream cone. Perfect! I wolfed down my yummy breakfast, and then asked for more sleep. The trio complied.

But, by 10, it was time to get moving, as we had a date with my mom and sister, and Julie's little girl, Jacqueline. We'd made plans to meet them for lunch at Julie's house; we were to bring the pizza, fresh fruit, and bicycles so that Jacqueline could bike around the block with her cousins. Despite one minor technical glitch with the bike rack (discovered while driving on Hwy 57), the bicycle transport was a success. Well, it did require a temporary pull to the side of the road for minor adjustments.

The cousins, as always, were so happy to see each other! Elizabeth and Jacqueline made quick work of getting down to the serious business of art work:

At the easle

And then, it was time to consume pizza:

'Nom ... 'nom ... 'nom

And, finally, getting to the real task at hand: bike riding! Behold the cycling cousins:

Side by side

Total confidence!

Total sweetness!

Totally owns the sidewalk!

And, the rare group shot:

The riders conclude their victory lap!

My pink Townie bike and I strolled along side the three muskateers for a good portion of their riding.

Hot on David's heels!

I even let my sister take the bike for a whirl.

Auntie Julie, hot on Elizabeth's heels!

And the surprise of the day was hearing my MOM take a look at my bike and say, "I've gotta try that." Alas, she did, but I didn't get any photos. Nuts. But I did get a great photo of her with both Jacqueline and David:

A girl and her Grandma Josie

A grandma and her boy!

But, as all good things, this too came to an end, and the four of us hit the road at around 2:30 to run the ever-exciting errand of getting David and Elizabeth a hair cut. Who knew that Cool Cuts 4 Kids would be absolutely empty on Mother's Day? We were in and out in less than 30 minutes.

Now, I will selfishly confess that one thing I anticipated receiving for Mother's Day was a nice note from Glen, stating that he did not, in fact, have to go back to the Bay area tonight. Rather, he was home for the duration of Mother's Day and - surprise surprise! - would be sticking around until Monday.

No note appeared. I looked at him. "You're really going back up tonight?"

"Yeah, really," he said, sheepishly.

"No, come on. Where's the punch line?"

"Uh ..."

The kids and I dropped him off at Ontario Airport at 7:30 this evening. He was sadder about it than I was, the sweetie!

But the evening did not end without one last bit of entertainment from the kids. Driving home from the airport, they happily amused themselves by playing their own re-created version of a television game show for kids called "Brain Surge," which is on Nickelodeon. To the uninitiated, Brain Surge contestants are quizzed on stories and pictures that are either read or shown during the game, and by process of elimination, the final winner is treated to a good old fashioned Nickelodeon "sliming." David and Elizabeth clearly remembers a whole lot of details from the most recent episode we watched this week, because they were quizzing each other on the stories, pictures, and other brain teasers the entire drive back. They cracked themselves up!

Their giggles and happiness capped off a perfect Mother's Day.

Now, I gotta think of what to do for a perfect Father's Day for Glen ... which, if I remember correctly, falls on a weekend in which he is pretty much booked. Time to get creative!

Another blessing: family unit restored!

I can't decide if this week feels as though it went by quickly or painfully slow. Regardless, it's the weekend, and Glen came home tonight! There was much rejoicing, and I had a rare opportunity to pick up Glen at the airport all by myself, as David and Elizabeth were keeping company with a wonderful woman from Claremont whom we've gotten to know through Elizabeth's pre-school.

Of particular note to the end of this week is that that the Lenten season (or it's impending conclusion) has prompted me to be reflective and meditative on my many blessings. I'll be the first to admit that this week had a bumpy start, complete with feelings of personal and professional inadequacy, exhaustion, and impatience. I recall vividly that, when speaking to Glen on Tuesday evening, when he asked, "how were the kids today?" I replied, "not great, but I was much worse."

Maybe it's the fact that I took today off from work, given that both David and Elizabeth's schools were closed for the Good Friday holiday; or, perhaps, it's because the kids and I attended our very first Good Friday services at our church in Sierra Madre. Post-church lunch with friends also always provides a wonderful diversion. Of course, it could also be the fact that I had dinner alone at a sushi restaurant, quietly keeping company with two magazines and tucked into a corner booth. Regardless, I welcome the sudden sense of peace and calm that washed over me by the end of today. While driving around town this evening, tending to random and non-urgent errands and biding  my time before heading to Ontario Airport to get my sweetie, I somehow felt mentally and emotionally capable of refocusing my mental energies on thinking about and being grateful for so many blessings. Let me name of few:

1. My kids are extraordinarily healthy. They are safe, they are home with me and tucked into their warm beds in their beautiful rooms, and are fast asleep, enjoying what I hope are wonderful dreams.

2. I have tons of friends. Our neighbors are amazing; I can take David and Elizabeth over to their house and park them in front of their television/Wii console/assorted Lego sets pretty much any time I need, just so that I can make a quick trip to Target. For this, Jeff, Karin and Della rock. Elizabeth's god family, who also lives in Claremont, bends over backwards to provide back up when needed, especially on the rare evenings when I have an evening commitment at work or at one of the kid's schools. And remember the Claremont lady I mentioned at the start of this post? She approached me last week and, having heard of our commuter situation, announced to me, "I want to take care of your kids once a week. Let's arrange a schedule." Out of nowhere, this lovely woman stepped up to the plate and offered her heart. How often does that happen?

3. I am married to a rock star who, despite the geographic distance between us during the work week, never passes up an opportunity to remind me just how much he loves me. I've gushed about Glen before, and I'll do it again: marrying Glen was the best decision I ever made.

4. While our crazy schedule has required me to pair down the number of volunteer obligations that I can commit to, those that I remain actively involved with are incredible fun. How can you not love a chance to serve first-graders a lunch of mac and cheese, pizza, and chicken strips to celebrate their class play, and watch them fall all over each other to help you blow up balloons, decorate tables, and be just all-around adorable?

5. I have a beautiful home. I love this house. I love hearing David refer to our house as "fancy." I don't know if it's truly fancy, but it's ours, and it's perfect just the way it is.

6. It's not that I HAVE to pick up the kids' toys, do their laundry, cook their meals, and manage their baths and oral hygiene each day ... rather, I GET to do this. The more I remind myself of this, the more I realize what a privilege and a gift it is to have these two perfectly beautiful little creatures in my life. Even if they do turn up their noses at broccoli.

7. In general, I am so damned lucky, it's not even funny.

In my quest to identify what it is that I am the most passionate about, what gets me up in the morning, and what rocks my world (in a good way), I always go back to motherhood. Recently I've done a number of searches for blogs and discussion boards geared toward couples and families who have at least one member (an adult, presumably) that lives away from home for a good portion of the week. I was surprised to find that very few exist. One that I found was nothing but a mother's rant about how much she "f-ing" hates her home situation. Immediately sensing a negative vibe, I moved on from that one.

So, here's my plan: www.commutermarriage.com. I am going to start another blog that I hope will incorporate resources, information, and just a larger sense of community to families such as ours: one parent who lives away from home for several days at a time, one who has primary care of the little ones, and all who are in the frame of mind to keep positive and remain steadfast at making such a funky domestic situation work in only the best possible way. I'm not sure where to start, but I did register the domain name. Baby steps, I know.

This blog, of course, will continue to be recount my own deep, insightful, and witty observations on David, Elizabeth and me as we plug along Monday through Friday, and cherish/relish our weekends with Glen.

May your spring holidays - ones that, in their own ways, celebrate miracles - be wonderful and blessed!

Deep thoughts at 1:00 a.m.

Looking over my blog history, I see that I have not posted anything - ANYTHING - for three weeks now. It's not that copious stories, anecdotes, and funny happenings worth sharing have not happened; it's just that finding or setting aside the time to record them in this blog has been difficult.

Thus inspiring the topic for this evening's blog post: "If I had an extra hour in every day, I would ..."

I am quite certain that our domestic situation here on Lordsburg Court has not created any additional challenges to my personal time management habits. To the contrary, I seem to lately be in the habit of creating more work for myself during the weeknights when it's just the kids and me at home. Rather than going to bed at a decent hour, I plop myself in front of my cute red laptop and start, as I call it, "farting around" on the web. What am I searching for? New opportunities for a part-time, home-based business.

These late-night explorations for that "perfect" opportunity have provided me with quite an education. I've quickly learned that any advertisements for "copy-and-paste" or "instant wealth in five clicks of the mouse" are pretty much bogus. I've learned that it's easy to create a website, but difficult to get it ranked highly in most search engines. I've learned new terminology, such as "search engine optimization (SEO)," "Clickbank," "affiliate marketing," and "back links." I've discovered that in my quest to establish some sort of cottage industry, the one niche - the one issue or topic about which I am truly passionate - is motherhood.

As most of my fellow mommies will attest, motherhood is not really a money-making industry, and I tend to think that it shouldn't be. But there must be information, resources, ideas, inspirations, and assistance for which moms, like me, are in the hunt.

The mere fact that I am even searching for new opportunities to expand both my professional and economic foundation bring up a whole host of issues that my fellow mommies and I deal with on a daily basis: work-life balance; finding happiness in the small things; valuing quality over quantity; celebrating childhood; being okay with "good enough;" paying the mortgage/credit card bills; perspective  ... the list goes on.

So, I will keep up my late-night searches, with a mind open to new ideas and ears always listening for the soft, sweet voices of David and Elizabeth who may require my late-night assistance or cuddle. And, when this happens, I'll once again be reminded that the most important cottage industry I could ever invest in, and the one that I am currently THE BEST at, is being David and Elizabeth's mommy.

I promise that the next blog post will capture more silliness and mayhem. Remind me to tell you about the running list of "Elizabethan Quotes" and "BUGZ."

Tiny celebrations

Tomorrow, my three-year old turns four. I am both thrilled to see the lovely young girl she is becoming, and terrified at how quickly she (and her brother, for that matter) is growing.

But, rather than dwell on how quickly life passes us by and my associated feelings of mortality, I will devote today's blog to a brief history of Elizabeth Ann Hastings.

Most of you know that Elizabeth was born four weeks early. My Ob-Gyn was a bit concerned about her fetal growth and, as soon as she hit exactly 36 weeks, she was induced. Out she popped at four pounds, 13 ounces at 6:40 p.m. on Tuesday, March 27, 2007.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

Elizabeth quickly established her place in our household and in our hearts. She took a liking to her big brother almost instantly.

That bond has grown stronger over the past four years. Of course, I'm not sure whether it's that they truly love, respect and adore each other, or are simply plotting their next move against assorted power structures.

I had always heard that having two children was not necessarily more difficult, per se, but just twice as much work. I agree and disagree. One of the advantages I have in raising both David and Elizabeth is that they both pretty much like (and dislike) the same things. Food preferences are frighteningly similar. They both enjoy Lego, and even David will jump in and play Barbies with her on occasion (on his on volition). They love to bike and play outside together. They are buddies, and they know that when it's just the two of them and me, they have me out-numbered. That's perfectly okay by me.

I have also thought often about what is different about raising a girl than raising a boy. In my case, each kid is discriminating in their choice of clothes and toys. They adore books. I think one of the few differences I can see is that Elizabeth is just slightly more picky about her hair, and is more likely to pick out her own clothes to wear each day, usually resulting in a very creative fashion ensemble. Otherwise, despite their age and gender differences, these two kids are like peas in a pod. And I am so very lucky and blessed.

Let me end tonight's brief blog post with a photo montage of Elizabeth birthday celebrations of years past. Roll 'em!

First birthday, 2008!

Second birthday, 2009!

Third birthday, 2010!

Happy birthday, beautiful girl! I love you, and I am so proud to be your mommy!

Counting my Blessings

Almost a month has passed since my last blog entry, and while I feel somewhat  like slacker for not keeping up with chronicling the adventures (or mis-adventures) of the Hastings tribe, I have to admit that, up until last week, there was not much to report.

Then, Friday, March 4 came along.

The college I work at - Harvey Mudd College - completed what we believe was a very successful site visit by a team of peer reviewers who were on campus for the college's reaccreditation efforts. The visit concluded on Thursday, March 3, with enormously positive feedback provided by the distinguished panel of professionals who comprised our peer review team.

To celebrate, Glen and the kids and I had planned a long weekend in the Bay area. Chloe, my youngest niece, turned four on March 7, and her party took place on Sunday. We planned to cavort around our usual haunts and hang-outs, meet with friends, and enjoy an otherwise unstructured weekend. We drove up on Thursday evening, during which time David and Elizabeth contentedly watched DVDs in the back seat, I dozed, and Glen drove us safely to our apartment up north.

On Friday morning, while I was strolling around the IKEA store in East Palo Alto, I received one of the worst phone calls of my entire life. The five-year old son of one of my dearest and closest friends, had died.

For the purposes of this blog, I won't mention the names of the family impacted by this horrible, devastating tragedy. But, by way of a bit of background, the mother of this beautiful boy was one of my Scripps classmates. She and I were next-door neighbors in Browning Hall at Scripps during my senior year. She and her husband live in the northern party of the Bay area, and they have two sons. She is one of my closest friends. We gave each other baby showers prior to the arrival of our respective oldest kids. David and this little guy enjoyed playing together whenever our families got together.

The oldest woke up on Friday morning not feeling well, went back to his room to rest, and he was gone.

Always looking for some sort of silver lining - however remote - I was grateful that the kids and I were already up north so that I could get to my friend's home in a jiffy. Glen and I arrived at their beautiful home late in the afternoon that same day, and all I could do was hug them, cry with them, and sit together with them in shared shock.

We'll be returning to the Bay area bright and early tomorrow morning so as to be with the family, talk, visit, share beloved memories of a beautiful little boy, and attend his memorial service on Monday.

In light of all of this, I've gained remarkable new perspective and appreciation for so many things. I only hope that this new-found enlightenment lasts. Here are some of my initial lessons:

1. If the David and Elizabeth's rooms are messy, strewn with toys, clothes, and assorted clutter, that means they are happy, healthy, alive, and with me today. The mess doesn't matter one wit.

2. There is always time for one more hug, one more lullaby, and one more popsicle.

3. Kids understand death and loss better than we give them credit for. David has been such a trouper, but this is his first experience with losing a friend. He is so sad, and yet so wise, honest, and forthcoming about his feelings.

4. Yes, I'll be happy to get the new "Megamind" DVD at Target. Not a problem.

5. The honest and candor with which children express their feelings is absolutely amazing. At the candlelight vigil held for our friends' son at his school on Monday evening, students and classmates left messages and artwork on yards and yards of butcher paper. Their insight, expressed in words and drawings, are brilliant.

6. It's terrifying when a friend loses a child. Absolutely terrifying. You don't know what to say, what to do, and how to act. If anything, I've learned that if all you can do is sit there with them, hold their hand, and just be present, it helps not only the grieving parent, but you, too.

7. Kids' celebrations are so vitally important, but they need to be about the kids, not the parents. For Elizabeth's 4th birthday party, we originally planned to do an elaborate tea party theme. After this weekend, it became clear to me that the elaborateness of kids' parties have nothing to do with the kids. It's about the parents. To that end, Elizabeth's party will now just be a big, whopping play date with cousins, classmates, kids from the neighborhood, and friends. Pizza, mac and cheese, and other kid-friendly fare will be served. There's no need for white gloves, lace tablecloths, and fine china. There IS a great need for unstructured play time, laughter, and running around like crazy. Example of how this worked beautifully: Chloe's birthday party on Sunday. It was a princess-themed affair, but the kids got the greatest pleasure from playing ball in the front yard, bouncing on the trampoline in the backyard, munching on cupcakes, and climbing in the tree house. Bliss!

Cherish every moment, my dear friends. Life is a gift. Tomorrow is not guaranteed.