Growing Up

Yesterday was beautiful here in San Francisco — nothing but blue skies, and in the 70s! I took my son to the zoo to bask in the sunshine and we had a wonderful time. As always I was struck by how many big bellies I saw. I remember how hard it was to frequent family-oriented places in the year and a half we were trying for a second child. Every where I looked there were moms with kids much younger than mine, waddling after their toddlers. It hurt to see so many people easily enjoy what I wanted so desperately.

Now I see those same moms and I feel nothing but relief. Relief that I’m coming out of that very-young child phase. Relief that I don’t have to do the new baby thing again.

My kids are getting older. They are becoming more mature and more self-sufficient. And even though things with my daughter will never be easy, I do think they will become easier.

I can’t wait for what the next phase of our life as a family will bring. I am so excited to start traveling with my children, taking them to new countries every summer as we try out living abroad for a month at a time. I look forward to exploring the world with them, just me and my two little adventurers.

Next summer they will be eight and almost five! While I worry about their super selective eating, I think the three of us will have a ton of fun exploring new places. I want my kids to be open-minded and accepting. I want them to be curious and inquisitive. I think visiting new places with them will be the coolest thing in the world. Plus, I can’t wait to immerse our family in Spanish (which my son is finally lets me use with him; I guess he understands it a lot better now).

Growing up in Hong Kong we traveled a lot. I have very fond memories of being somewhere new with my family. I can’t wait to make those kind of memories with my own kids. Sure it will sometimes be difficult. Sure they (and I!) will sometimes be unhappy. But we’ll learn to get through it together.

It’s nice to finally find that one thing that fires my passion and gets me excited: I want to travel with my family! The idea of spending a month with them somewhere each summer makes me thankful to be a teacher, and incentivizes budgeting in a way nothing else has. It’s the thing I would happily build my life around, a goal for which I can easily sacrifice.

Soon it’s going to be a reality! My kids really are getting big. My daughter will be seven in June and has already been wearing size 7/8 clothes (which is a medium in the girl’s sections of most stores!) for a year. She just grew into a size 1 shoe! She has lost eight baby pearls and the whole front of her mouth is filled with giant adult teeth. She is long and lanky and looks every inch the elementary student. She is truly a girl now, no more little about it.

My son is not even three and a half and he’s already 41 inches tall. He wears size 11 shoes and size 4T and 5T clothes. He’s so big that I have to be careful not to expect more of him than his 3yo self can deliver. He’s clearly been going through some developmental spurt lately because suddenly he wants to read much longer, more complicated books and can engage you in his own multi-faceted stories. He can be reasoned with (to a point) and wants to do everything himself. He doesn’t even need the toddler seat on the toilet anymore.

I realized the other day I can sell the strollers and donate the training potty (which has to live in the hallway, because our bathroom is too small to house it) as we never use them anymore. I’ve already gotten rid of most of their baby and toddler toys. These are the final vestiges of my kids baby and toddler-hood, and I am excited to see them go.

I know a lot of moms have a hard time watching their kids grow up. There are definitely wistful moments when I miss their soft baby skin and warm baby smell. But mostly I’m just excited for this new phase and whatever it will bring. I don’t think parenting babies and toddlers was my forte, I really do think I’ll enjoy parenting older kids a lot more.

So when I round up all the clothes and shoes and toys my kids have outgrown, I don’t feel sad for what we’re leaving behind, but instead am excited for what is to come.

Bring on the big kids!

Thanks

Thank you for the support yesterday. It meant a lot. 

For the last two nights my kids have slept through. Even my daughter has stayed in her own bed! Of course I continue to wake up at least once a night because my body doesn’t know how to sleep for 6 or 7 straight hours anymore, but I’m still getting better sleep than I have in ages. 

I also started my period yesterday. It took me by surprise, but also explains a lot. Two cycles ago, when I first started taking Vitex, my period was totally fine. Then I kind of forgot to keep taking the Vitex and my next period was a nightmare. My boobs hurt so bad leading up to it that just brushing against them sent streaks of pain through my body. It was hard to sleep they were so sensitive. Then my actual period came and it just, didn’t go away. I had it for ten days. My whole cycle is about 20 days long and the only thing that makes that bareable is that my period is usually only a three day affair. But the last one just kept going and going. Have I mentioned that I can’t wear tampons because of my prolapse?! I was miserable. 

I started up the Vitex again. I’m not sure if the good cycle, then the bad one, had anything to do with the Vitex (and then lack thereof)–I’ve definitely had aberrant cycles before–but the correlation is interesting. This month my boobs didn’t hurt at all so I was totally taken by surprise when I started my period yesterday. But it explains why I’ve been feel tired and down. 

This past week my husband had to work from home because his office was being reconfigured. It was so nice to see so much of him and have him around in the evenings to help with the kids. Next week he’s gone at SXSW, and it’s going to be lonely and exhausting without him here. It’s also Book Fair week at my daughter’s school, which the PTA puts on. Of course no one is signing up to man it, so I’m not sure what we’ll do. I’m already signed up for three afternoons and am taking the day off Tuesday to help set up (and for something else, see below), but I’ll probably have to sign up for more. Such bad timing that my husband is gone. I suppose we’ll figure it out. 

It’s also the end of the 2nd trimester and grades are due next Wednesday. I’m spending all day tomorrow at work and hope to have my scores inputted and grades finalized before Monday.

This coming Tuesday my daughter goes for her one year vision therapy follow up appointment (the other reason I’m taking Tuesday off). I was supposed to call in November to make the appointment but I just couldn’t. There is a part of me that is so terrified she will need more vision therapy, which would be a financial and emotional nightmare. I really hope they say that she is seeing fine and doesn’t need any addition therapy. Fingers crossed. 

Today is Friday and it should be a decent day at work. I’m looking forward to a cocktail tonight. šŸ˜‰

Hanging In

I know I’ve been writing some positive posts lately… and there have been some great things happening to be sure. But the truth is, I’m kind of struggling right now.

My daughter is going through a hard bit. She’s been in a shitty mood for about a month. She is constant negativity. The first sound out of her mouth in the morning is a bark or whine, and the last thing she says before she goes to bed is a complaint. Everything in between is more of the same.

It’s exhausting. And it’s starting to really get me down.

I wish I knew why she gets like this. I wish I knew how to make it better. She is such a sensitive kid. She clearly struggles. But she’s almost seven years old and still has daily meltdowns that put my three-year-old to shame. My patience wears so thin.

She’s been getting these red streaks on her cheeks, under her eyes. It’s probably a reaction to something, but it’s hard to get an accurate account of what she’s eaten at school and aftercare. I pack her enough lunch and snacks that she doesn’t need to eat food from either place, but she does if they offer something she likes.

It hurts my heart to think she’s having a hard time because she’s reacting to something she is eating… We all know how my husband feels about exploring that possibility.

I have thought about emailing her pediatrician, but previous discussions on this topic suggest he won’t be of much help. “It could be anything…”

It’s just… hard for me. At this point I cringe at the thought of picking her up at the end of the day. I know that once I get her I’m just going to be berated until she goes to bed.

I have not been feeling great myself. I’m always tired. Exhausted really. I wonder if my allergies are acting up as well. The pollen count is definitely going up, as the rains stop and the sun comes out. I’ve been weekly allergy shorts for six month now, so my symptoms are more subtle, but I am still affected. I should start taking antihistamines again. Of course those make me drowsy…

I know part of it is this school year. There is only one trimester left. I can do it. I can get through. 14 weeks. I can do anything for 14 weeks. I keep telling myself that.

And of course there is always the political climate, which does so much to wear us all down. It’s not panic so much anymore as a constant, throbbing despair.

Right now I am looking to the summer. The summer is my salvation. The summer is my everything. I just gotta get there.

A Subtle Shift

I know I go on and on about minimalism here, about how I want to embrace it but I struggle… about how I don’t think I’m doing as well as I could be.

I write about reading posts where they make it seem so easy and wondering why I can’t make the changes those people make, why I fail when they succeed. I don’t mean to compare myself to those people. It’s not that I think I need to achieve what they have achieved to feel like my pursuit of minimalism has been a success. It’s that I want to find the contentment that minimalism has given them. I want to find that deeper meaning in the chaos of life.

I keep reading the minimalism blogs, not to torture myself, or because I’m some kind of masochist. I’m not looking to feel bad about myself. The thing is I feel certain that I can learn something very valuable from the movement, that in simplifying my life I will reap great rewards. I don’t think minimalism is for everyone–it is certainly not some cure all for today’s society, as some claim–but for me, I truly do believe it holds the key.

Having said that, I read some of these posts and all I can think is, I’ll never be like that. I’ll never get there.

Today I read a post that was different. Or maybe the post wasn’t different, maybe it was just me that was different.

I almost didn’t read the post. It was about letting go of sentimental things and that hasn’t been a challenge for me. One of the great surprises in my quest to let go has been how little the sentimental things I thought I valued meant to me. It has been incredibly easy for me to jettison old journals, photos, letters from friends. Yes they meant something very special to me. Yes they were incredibly important treasures in my life. But as they years have passed and I have grown up and away from the person I once was, I’ve found those tokens to mean less and less. They belonged to a different person, and reading them sometimes feels like a betrayal of her confidence. I am not the girl my middle school friend wrote letters to. I am no longer the angst ridden teenager who filled journal after journal with her tortured words. I am not even the twenty-something how corresponded with her roommates back home when she lived abroad. I am none of those people, because I’m all of them. I don’t need to revisit every past incarnation of my being. I much rather dwell in the present.

At least that is what I thought.

Reading that post, I realized that there are parts of the past that I dwell in, pieces of myself I have never let go.

I wrote recently about spending some time every night picking up the house. I’ve been good about it, but I noticed pretty quickly that I wasn’t getting much accomplished in the areas that really vex me. Tidying up after the kids went to bed helped the living room stay neat and kept the bathroom more orderly, but whenever I stood in front of the über-cluttered top of my chest of drawers, I froze. The mess paralyzed me, and almost every time, I ended up walking away, defeated.

I told myself that I just couldn’t do it. That organization just isn’t my thing and that I’ll never be good at it, that a constant mess is just who I am. I was feeling like a failure all over again.

In that post I read the author says this about shifting perspective:

There’s a well-known adage that our perception becomes our reality. How we see something becomes our truth, which at times, can be self-limiting.

I don’t know when I started defining certain parts of myself by my ADD. I think at the time it was a coping mechanism that protected certain parts of me from the other parts that judged mercilessly. I needed to embrace that explanation to attempt self-acceptance.

I kept defining myself that way because otherwise I wasn’t quite able love myself when I wasn’t living up to my values. If I could blame my shortcoming on something “other,” on something out of my control, I could practice self-compassion.

I’ve written many times about not knowing where my ADD, depression and anxiety end and where I begin. The reality is I will never know. I need to stop defining myself in these ways, because they hold me down, they keep me back.

They are heavy. They are great weights that overwhelm me.

If I’m holding onto heavy things, I leave less room to grow. No matter where we’ve been or where we’re going, when we fixate on the past and the future, It’s at the expense of the present.

I am ready to grow. I am ready to become a different person. I’m tired of this story, the one where I can’t. I want a new story, a story in which I can change and grow. A story where I can.

At times, I’ve chosen the pain from letting go over the pain of staying where I’m at.

I am done with the pain of staying where I’m at. I know that pain. It’s familiar. It’s easy. It doesn’t challenge me. It doesn’t force me to change. It’s just a dull ache that I’ve learned to live with. It’s a weight that I’m ready to shed.

It’s not going to be easy. I’ve gotten comfortable defining myself in these ways. I’ve become complacent. If I stop telling myself that I can’t, I have to start assuring myself that I can. And that’s going to be scary. If I can do something, I have to face all the other reasons why I’m not doing it. What am I avoiding? Why am I avoiding it? It will be uncomfortable. It will be painful. But I have to face those feelings, otherwise I’ll never be free.

No doubt about it, letting go can be an incredibly emotional process—and vulnerability is scary. But it is also an authentic way to live.

I’m honestly not sure what all of this means. I don’t have some new game plan or a shiny set of new goals. It’s not external, it’s more a subtle, internal shift. It’s attitudinal. It’s profound. I feel different. And I really hope my actions will be different too.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

More Investing in Myself

Sometimes I feel like things in my life align just right to remind me what my priorities are.

My cousin has lived and studied in Guatemala on and off for a while now. He goes to many places in Central and South America to write long-form articles about the political situations in different countries, and now he’s researching a book proposal about the atrocities of the Guatemalan civil war (heavy shit, to be sure). He is there now, studying with his favorite teacher, and he emailed me to see if I knew of anyone who’d want to do Skype lessons with her. I immediately thought, well I would!

So now I’m ducking out of bedtime on Wednesday nights to Skype with a lovely lady (I’ll call her L) in Xela, Guatemala for two hours. We talk and she writes notes about mistakes I make or words I don’t know or can’t remember. She gives me little lessons on the grammatical structures I still struggle with. Mostly we just talk in Spanish. She is very nice and our first talk was very pleasant.

It was definitely a challenge to keep the kids out of the room and I could tell my husband was struggling, but I love that I get to step away from my nightly bedtime duties once a week and do something for me.

Talking to her also made me realize that I really do need to invest in my Spanish. Which is why I’m so excited that…

…I bought my tickets for Ecuador!!!!!

I’ll be gone for 10 days, with two travel days, so I’ll have 8 days in Quito. I am so excited, and a little terrified. I’ve never been away from my kids for so long (I think this is twice as long as I’ve traveled without them, and I’ve only done that twice) and I’ve haven’t stayed with a host family since I was 16.

I am really excited for this trip.

I am excited to have some time away from my family, to remember who I am when I’m not scrambling to meet the needs of so many people. I’m excited to take my Spanish to the next level. I think after four months of weekly sessions with L I’ll be primed to make the most of my time in Ecuador, where I’ll be studying for 30 hours with a private language teacher. I can’t wait.

I’m also excited to visit somewhere new. I’ve never been to South America and I can’t wait to wander the streets of Quito. I’ve heard it’s beautiful, nestled in the high mountains. I’ll have a day before my classes start to roam the city and then a weekend after my classes to take some day trips. I already have a few places in mind.

I am so freaking excited! And it feels so good to invest in myself this way. By the end of this summer, I think I’ll be ready to apply for any high school job that comes available, or look into other ways of making extra money with my Spanish.

Ecuador, here I come!

How are you investing in yourself these days?

The Backyard

I realized this winter that the sun never hits our patio in the backyard during the winter. In the summer we get sun on the patio all morning, but in the winter it never creeps past the square of grass. Even if it hadn’t rained so much this winter, I doubt we would have been out there; our backyard is wet and cold when it doesn’t get the sun.

Yesterday my kids were driving me (and each other crazy). It was supposed to rain in the afternoon, so at 11am I ushered them outside. It drizzled on us a bit, but not enough to send us in.

At one point I took my camera out to take some picture of the blossoms on the plum tree, and my son demanded a turn. These are some of the pictures he took. I love seeing the world from his point of view.

Not so simple

This week has been extra frenetic, which makes me reflect (even more than usual) on how I can simplify my life.

The truth is, I’m not happy being as busy as I am. I think there was a time when I thrived on busyness, or at least I thought I did, but not anymore. Now it just makes me feel tired. And beaten down. I hate when life gets hectic and there isn’t time for anything or anyone.

It’s easy to feel trapped in my circumstances, but the the truth is I have a lot of choice. I need to take ownership for all that I can change and avoid the siren song of declaring myself a hapless victim of the 21st century.

There are, of course, big choices I can make to change my life. I am looking into those. Investing in my Spanish abilities is definitely the most concrete step I’ve taken toward actually finding a different job because the reality is I wouldn’t feel comfortable applying for most high school Spanish jobs with my current level of fluency. The fact that I can take the steps to find new employment is important to remember, even if it feels like any new job I get would be more of the same.

There are smaller choices I can make too. I can decide how many activities my kids participate in, and how many obligations I take on for myself. I can decide how I spend the free time that I do have, and I have a lot of choice in how I spend some of my money.

Except it’s not as easy as it might, at first glance, seem. I read posts that would suggest you just have to make the commitment to simplify your life and just like that, you can walk away from all the hustle and bustle that makes you crazy. I am not finding it that easy.

Take my kid’s activities. Right now both kids are taking swimming lessons because it’s really important for me that they are water safe. I also confess to hoping they will really love the water. It never gets very warm in San Francisco and going to the pool isn’t an activity that happens organically. Generally you have to drive a good 30-45 minutes in any direction to find warm enough weather to swim; it’s something you have to commit to doing, not something you just do. I’ve met a lot of native San Franciscans that can barely swim (ahem, my husband) and I don’t want that for my kids. While yes, I plan to make water a big part of our summers in other countries, for the time being swimming lessons are the only real way they are going to get comfortable, and capable, in the water.

So we go to swim lessons once a week, and that night is an absolute shit show. The reality is it’s hard (more like impossible) to find a lesson for my 3-year-old beginner and another one for my 6-year-old intermediate swimmer, at the same place during the same general time. After much scouring of our swim school’s classes (almost every day for over two months) finally two came up, but they are at 7:15 and 7:30 on Tuesdays. We usually start bedtime around 7:30 so to be swimming at that time is kind of insane. Also I have staff meetings on Tuesdays twice a month, so I’m already getting home from a very long day on those occasions, and the last thing I want to do is pick up the kids and head back down south for swimming. If simplifying my life overshadowed all other goals, I’d never sign my kids up for those swimming classes, but I really want my kids to be capable swimmers, especially this summer at the farm, so the late night swim lessons win.

{I also can’t just take my daughter because then I need to find child care for my son, because if I take him, and he doesn’t get to swim, a 30 minute meltdown ensues.}

Then there is the PTA at my daughter’s school. That obligation requires a significant amount of time and energy. It’s also lacking in clear positive returns, as most of the time I feel like our efforts aren’t recognized or appreciated. (Sometimes I feel like we are taken for granted, or even taken advantage of, but that is for another post.) Being on the board of the PTA at my daughter’s school is not very personally fulfilling, and yet I am reticent to announce that I won’t return next year, as I know they will be hard pressed to find someone to take my place. I haven’t officially decided that I’m staying, but I’m pretty sure that is what I’ll do. The thing is that I want to help my daughter’s school in a significant way and there aren’t many other avenues for a parent to make a difference. And yes, I feel like our efforts aren’t appreciated, but I also know my daughter’s school would be worse off without what we do. I’m not comfortable doing nothing when the success of her school is so important to me.

And this isn’t at all about my daughter and what she has access to at school. I am on the PTA to be of service to all the students there. My daughter would be fine without the supports we provide and the events we organize, but other students would suffer if the PTA dissolved (and yes, there has been talk of that, we are all feeling very much, “the few, the weary, the only ones who ever step up to do anything”). So please don’t think I’m doing all this to help my daughter have a better school experience. She will be just fine without what the PTA provides.

Finally there are activities like Girl Scouts, that I have absolutely no interest in being a part of but that my kid wants to do. These activities really get to me, and I struggle immensely with how to commit to them in the future.

I avoided Girl Scouts last year, hoping my daughter’s friends would eventually stop going. But they all joined again this year and my daughter insisted she be a part of it too. So I said yes. I didn’t have a very positive Girl Scout experience myself and I have zero interest in being part of it as a parent. Still, I didn’t feel it was fair to deny my daughter an opportunity to be a part of a social situation with her friends for no other reason than I just wasn’t into it. So we signed up, and I usually ask my friend to take her to the twice monthly meetings and get my husband to pick her up. Problem solved. But then it’s cookie selling season and even though I committed to the least amount of cookie selling I could get away with, it was still a massive pain in the ass and stole a crazy amount of time from life last month. The idea of selling cookies again next year makes me want to put my foot down and refuse my daughter’s pleas to be in Girl Scouts again. But is that the mom I want to be? How do I explain to my daughter that she can’t participate in something that all her friends get to be a part of?

These are just some of the specific examples of activities and obligations that make my life busy and hectic, but that I don’t feel I can just abandon in my quest for a simpler life. It’s more complicated than just, Do fewer things. So how do I achieve simplicity when other goals interfere? How do I strike that balance?

Do you want to simplify your life? What do you think might get in the way of doing that?

Family Flavor

My kids are getting older, and as they age, our family is developing habits and traditions. We are becoming our own little unit, with our own unique stories, inside jokes and ridiculous routines. We each have silly nicknames that we substitute into familiar songs. We each are known for certain things–my husband and daughter are reluctant to get up in the morning and grumpy for at least 30 minutes after rising, my son likes to shake his booty (most especially with his pants down), my daughter likes to free style dance–and we tease each other accordingly. We have routines and traditions. We have a certain, very specific humor that we only engage in at home (yes, fart jokes abound). We know each other intimately, and we enjoy each other, even as we drive each other bonkers.

We are becoming a real family, with our own special flavor.

The other day my daughter mentioned how much I love my Tile (more on this later, because it’s AWESOME) and she was playfully, lovingly mocking me about it to her dad. She knows things about me and can talk to her dad about me as A PERSON, not just her mom. She knows her Nana loves Scrabble and that her Papa loves to wrastle and that her Gramps loves the desert and that her Grammy loves cooking. When she sees something that she thinks one of us might like she can comment on it thoughtfully. She is becoming a human being who engages with others and her world in thoughtful ways!

My son is still a lot younger but at almost 3.5 years old, his personality is becoming more and more evident. He adores his sister, but wants to hit her most of the time (we’re working on it). One of his most used phrases is, “I’M SO FRUSTRATED!” because it’s hard being the youngest in a family of four when everyone has a big personality. He loves trains and cars and anything that goes. He hates bad guys and suspense on the TV (even if it’s not scary, suspenseful music is enough to send him running out of the room). He loves the ocean and the creatures that inhabit it and his favorite place in the world is the aquarium. He loves to snuggle, his mommy first and then his blankie (well, maybe not always in that order). Potty language is a part of almost every sentence he says. It always makes him bust out laughing.

I really do love the family we are becoming. I love the inside jokes, the easy way we make each other laugh, the silly things we say that would make no sense to anyone else. I love how my husband can distract my son into most things by making it a game (I’m going to get to the potty first!) and how my daughter says, “My brother would LOVE that,” when we see a digger on the street. I adore that my husband and daughter read comic books together, and that my husband is more excited to find one he things our daughter will like than he is to find one he himself enjoys. I cherish those easy moments, before the bedtime gauntlet starts, when we sit in the living room together and just be. These are the moments when I am living my dream.

And my husband is a huge part of these moments. I never love my husband more than when he is with our kids. All the things that made me fall in love with him are there when we are together, as a family. It’s incredible and gives me hope that things between us will be better, and easier, as our kids get older.

This is not to say every moment is a joy. I know anyone reading this blog doesn’t need that disclaimer, but I’ll say it all the same. So many moments are difficult and challenging. I feel frustrated and exhausted most of the time. But there are moments now, when things are not just easier, but enjoyable. And they deserve a mention here as well.

Incremental Gains

Well, my week break is over. I did a much better job managing expectations this time, but I still feel disappointed by what I accomplished. I realize that I need to drastically improve the state of things around the house, so that I don’t feel like a failure when I can’t commit my weeks off to get things in order.

The problem is that I let things get so bad that I feel like I have to wait until I have a lot of free time to clean things up. This is only the case in certain areas of the house, but it’s such a small house that I can’t really avoid those areas when they are stressing me out. What I have to do is dedicate 15-30 minutes to upkeep every day. That way I wouldn’t always feel like I needed 5 straight hours to get things where I want them to be.

There is a chunk of time, daily, that I feel I can use to work on the house, the problem is it will be exceptionally hard to motivate myself then. The time I’ve identified is right after I’ve put the kids to bed. I usually spend the 15-30 minutes after I leave my daughter’s room in the glider, playing solitaire or mindlessly scrolling through my news aggregator. If instead of plopping my ass down and zoning out, I spent 15-30 minutes tidying up a problem area, the house would look pretty fucking amazing most of the time. And while yes, I do use that time playing mindless games on my phone to relax, the state of the house is a continual source of stress; managing that would be a much better stress eliminator in the long run.

I attempted to do this Friday night, after a particularly long evening at my daughter’s school helping with their African American Heritage Night. It was SO HARD to get my ass out of that chair and simply pick up random shit in the living room, but I motivated because I knew that it would make me feel better in the long run. Just like it can be hard to throw on a sports bra and work out, but I’m ALWAYS glad I did it.

So I heaved my sorry ass out of the chair and picked up. And I did feel better. I know if I could tackle a few big problems areas in my room this weekend I’d feel better about the state of things in general, and then maybe I could even weed out the superfluous Tupperware at some point too.

I have spent a fair amount of time this week feeling down on myself that I’m STILL not doing some of these things that I DESPERATELY want to do. I don’t know why I can motivate to do so many things that are hard for me but find other goals impossible to meet. And it’s not just the state of the house. I’m failing on the financial front, big time. I promised myself that I’d go back and track my spending in January and February after the fact using my bank and credit card statements, along with the notes I’ve attempted to keep about cash spending (which I don’t do much of). I also can’t say that I’ve only bought things I absolutely need in the past few months. That goal continues to elude me.

I know I’ve written many times about how these perceived shortcomings feel more and more like massive character flaws the longer I struggle with them. I don’t know how to change my ways on this stuff. Maybe I really do need some professional help, like a therapist to meet with weekly for check-ins. Maybe without that kind of support I really can’t do this.

But I can’t possibly afford a therapist right now, not in time or money. So I suppose I’ll keep trying and failing on my own. I do think I’m making small gains in the right direction, but holy shit it’s taking a long time for me to make any real progress. It’s so dispiriting.

In response {aka More Thoughts on “The Swimming Suit”}

I got a comment yesterday morning on my swimming suit post. It was not like the previous comments. At first I wasn’t sure I was going to publish it (because the name and email weren’t recognized, my blog held the comment for moderation), but then I decided that not only would I publish it, I’d respond to it in a post (thanks for the push T). Here is the comment, and below I respond:

In Judiasim,wearing the clothing of the opposite gender is explicitly forbidden by the Torah (Debarim 22:5).
It is also comsidered an abomination to God in Deuteronomy.
Why does everyone want to constantly teach their kids that ā€œanything goes?ā€ Do you also let kids eat candy whenever they want? Skip school because it feels right or better or more comfortable? Come on. Let’s be parents. Discipline, structure, and consistency are not bad words unless you are afraid to be a parent and more comfortable being your child’s friend.

So, where to begin?

First of all, I did not realize there is specific text in both the Torah and Bible that explicitly forbids wearing the clothing of the opposite gender, but I guess I’m not surprised. I’m not at all familiar with the Torah, but my limited recollection of the Old Testament involves all kinds of judgement, condemnation and hatred (and I believe much of the Old Testament is also part of the Torah?) So, not that surprising.

Second, I wonder how one even goes about determining what are, officially, “women’s clothes” and “men’s clothes.” As little as 100 years ago it was pretty rare for a woman to wear slacks, let alone casual pants. The very first humans were lucky to tie some vegetation or roughly woven cloth around their waists, which I’m sure looked more like a skirt than anything. Many indigenous cultures on pretty much every continent still wear clothing that is simply tied around the waste. In many other cultures long robes, that are very similar to dresses, are worm by men of great respect. What is considered “women’s” and “men’s” clothing varies incredibly from culture to culture, and even within those cultures, from era to era. Does that fluidity in the understanding of which clothes belong to which gender not suggest that the distinction in any culture at any time is somewhat arbitrary?

Having said that, I don’t argue that if given a pile of clothing and asked to sort it, most people (of a shared culture) would consider some clothes to belong exclusively in the “women’s” pile, and others in the “men’s,” probably with a rather large portion falling into a third “either/or” category.

Interestingly, most gender specific clothing are actually women specific. I can’t think of any piece of clothing that only men can wear, though most women’s versions of those clothes are cut differently when sold to women. (Except maybe bottoms as a swim suit (as in, topless), but that is more about our sexually-repressed Protestant founding and is not necessarily shared by other European cultures.) Yes women can wear pants, or t-shirts, or button downs or blazers, or boots, or anything a man can wear, ours are just more form fitting versions of their male counterparts. I always assume we, as a culture, are okay letting women where “men’s” clothing because men are considered the stronger, more dominant sex (and gender), and it’s okay for women to aspire to that strength. And for the same reason, I assume the opposite makes it LESS okay for boys or men to wear “girl’s or women’s” clothing (specifically dresses and skirts, or anything with pink, frills or with sparkles–of course make-up is also included) because we consider women the weaker sex and don’t support men or boys identifying with or wearing clothing that is attributed to, or a symbol of, that feminine weakness. (I could be totally wrong about this though, if you have another hypothesis please offer it).

Yes, the gendering of clothes seems, in many ways, to be just one more way of keeping women from being seen as equal to men, and for that reason alone I’m not interested in respecting those gender norms myself, or requiring my children–okay, let’s be perfectly honest, my son–to follow those guidelines.

Even if it weren’t the case that gender specific clothes are most distinctive for girls, I still wouldn’t require my daughter to wear clothes from the “girl’s” section or my son to wear clothes from the “boy’s.” I teach my children that they can be whatever they want to be, and express themselves in whatever way feels most genuine and authentic for them, as long as that expression does not hurt, disregard, or disrespect anyone else.

The thing is, I DO teach my kids the values that I cherish: I teach them to respect others, including all the many people who are different than they are; to love other human beings and tread lightly on the planet; to be grateful for what they have, and generous to others; to be open-minded, honest and helpful; to present and mindful; to have a strong work ethic, and to handle disappointment gracefully. I teach them to be curious and questioning; to be forgiving; to be assertive. I teach them to stand up for what is right. I teach them all of this in the hopes that they will some day be well-rounded, respectful, productive members of society, who will uphold the values of acceptance, empathy and understanding.

Have they learned all these lesson yet? No. They are works in progress, as am I. But I am absolutely doing the hard work of trying to teach them these values. I am certainly providing “discipline (I use the word here to connote its original meaning, which is “to teach”), structure and consistency, and I don’t as a general rule, try to be my children’s friend instead of their parent.

My parenting is intended to help my children be open minded, accepting citizens, who feel free to express themselves even if society is uncomfortable with that expression (again, as long as it is respectful), and does not force them to remain beholden to ancient texts that are, in many circumstances, misunderstood and misrepresented (or are just unapologetically 2000+ years old and prescribe stoning women to death for any number of reasons).

I believe it is hurtful to tell a child he or she can’t express him or herself in a certain way just because our society has decided that “that way” is only appropriate for the opposite gender. I am not interested in forcing gender norms on my children, especially when I am painfully aware that they will be force fed those gender norms from our society at large for the rest of their life. I want them to know that I LOVE THEM no matter what they want to wear, or how they want to style their hair, or what activities they want to participate in. If my daughter wants to pursue computer science, yes she can pursue computer science (of course, we don’t question that, at least not anymore). If my son wants to take ballet, he can take ballet. And he can wear a tutu when he goes, just like all the other ballerinas (and yes, I suspect the wearing of the tutu, if not simply attending ballet, would be questioned, even today). Of course, neither one of them will be allowed to play football, because we don’t think it’s safe, but that isn’t at all about what is expected of them based on their gender.

I think it’s sad that there are people in this world who would regard religious text (or simple societal pressures) over the self-expression and well being of their children. Sure, most little boys are interested in fairies and princesses, or want to paint their nails, because it is fun and not because of some emerging, not yet fully understood, understanding of self-identity. But for some kids, those early requests to venture outside their prescribed gender are tentative steps in the direction of who they really are, and when they are told those requests are inappropriate, they feel that they themselves are inappropriate too. My heart breaks for any kid, but especially the LGBTQ kids, who grow up in families where exploration of gender is shut down and self-worth is only granted when gender norms are explicitly followed. How devastating to not be accepted by the very people who are supposed to love you and protect you, no matter what.

My children are only six and three. They still don’t know who they are, and that is magical. I’m going to work really hard to make them feel accepted no matter how they want to express themselves, as long as that expression is accepting of, and respectful toward, others. I care more about protecting them and their feelings of self-worth, than following the sometimes antiquated, close-minded cultural norms of our society.

Thank you for being respectful in the comment section.