Parents' Moment of Zen

dancing through motherhood

2008-03-08T22:30:00.000-08:00

This is mostly crossposted from WordyDoodles.

I loved this article in the SF Chronicle today. It was about an ODC dancer who had a baby and how it changed her dancing and her life.

Even if you've never danced formally, you'll be able to relate to her and appreciate her (and her husband's) revelations. There's a wonderful message about why we as parents should prioritize our happiness.

But let's start with ODC, which is proving itself to be not only at the top of their game artistically, but also administratively. The fact that the artistic director and other top brass at the company say things like, "We're always going to have a space for you, there's no pressure to come back this season," and "We've been through it. I don't think anything makes it easy, but I think it helps to be in an environment where you know that people understand that. We know that the less comfortable and secure you feel about your baby's care, the less you'll be able to do," proves that they're on the leading edge of family-friendly workplaces.

But perhaps my favorite quote is from Yayoi Kambara herself: "Becoming a mom, she says, has made her clearer on what she really wants for herself.

'I believe that we as individuals have to be happy in order to make our children happy. It's so important to us that Hanae [her daughter] feels confident and that she feels she can do anything that she wants to do, that she dreams whatever she wants and then goes ahead and does it. And if we didn't do that for ourselves, then how is she going to learn that?'"

Amen to that!

for laughs!

2008-02-18T09:30:00.001-08:00

Lest you think we take ourselves too seriously... you must check out Baby Bush Toys: Simple Products for Simple Minds. My favorite is the Li'l Looming Disaster Pillow, but they're all great. Be sure to read the testimonials too.

We all know parents who take waaaaay too much stock in believing that Baby Einstein and products like that will make their baby a genius. If you find yourself confronted by that competitiveness, just look at this website, relax and have a good laugh.

no worries!

2008-02-05T18:50:00.000-08:00

I love the title of this book: Einstein Never Used Flashcards: How Our Children Really Learn -- and Why They Need To Play More and Memorize Less.

Ain't that the whole truth. There is so much pressure these days to turn your child into a super achiever before birth (if you think I'm kidding, google "prenatal education"). But there's no real evidence that these fetal lectures lead to genius adults, much less happy ones.

D is an extremely talented physicist with an intimate knowledge of the work and life of Einstein. I trust him- and my own instincts- in the decision to make like Einstein, and give our child plenty of free play time. We don't have to put pressure on ourselves as parents or on our children to achieve a cookie cutter model of success. We simply need to nurture them, observe them carefully, and encourage them to explore and to have fun!

To enjoy the lightness of childhood, to learn to be low-stress and naturally curious, to be loving-- these are the things I will nurture in my child.

the weight of Minkie

2008-02-01T12:18:00.000-08:00

Last night during the Democratic debate, Minkie decided she wanted to color. So I put some paper and crayons in front of me. She climbed on my lap and colored.

I thought about what this would have felt like before I became a parent. I had about as much exposure to people under 3 as your typical 20-30-something-- which is not much. I remember how special it felt when they chose me to hold them, when they wanted to hold hands. When, on very few occasions, they settled into sitting with me. That sweet weight of a little one on my lap, the soft little hands, the downy hair.

I realized that it still feels special.

balanced?

2008-01-29T14:18:00.000-08:00

One for you from indexed, one of my favorite little blogs.

Sometimes the work/life balance goal seems totally unworkable, but to keep it in focus, even without achieving it, feels worthwhile to me. Like that old saying goes (approximately), you have to know where you're going to get there.

Keep hope alive!

a block of time! without the kid!

2008-01-27T10:45:00.000-08:00

I have a huge project to do for one of my consulting jobs. It is an amazing thing and has the potential to improve the lives of thousands of people.

So D took sweet P out of the house for a couple of hours. And I don't know what to do! I feel guilty for not using the time efficiently, and guilty for not being with them.

Makes not much sense, right? But at least I can think clearly enough to realize:

1. I need to stop feeling guilty because it's keeping me from doing my work.
2. I need to simply feel grateful for the time and space to do this wonderful work.

Sometimes I need to step back and allow myself to benefit from the help others give me. You too?

being sorry

2008-01-25T00:12:00.001-08:00

This article from Slate is a funny, thoughtful take on forcing your child to apologize. I thought I'd disagree with its premise-- that it might not be the best thing to encourage your child to apologize if your kid doesn't mean it. After all, is there not some worth to practicing how to apologize?

There is, I think. But I also loved and appreciated the idea that kids can come to understand how others feel, to empathize, and to truly be sorry for hurting another.

Modeling this empathetic behavior is fundamentally important. I think so because I realize it was not modeled for me by my own parents, but I learned it early in other friendships and relationships. And D and I apologize to each other so easily-- somehow, in our loving relationship, it's so simple and painless to acknowledge the truth when one of us is wrong. What a difference it would have made, though, to see my own mother and father treat each other with empathy.

I am mindful of this as I mother Minkie, of the importance of sincerity and empathy, of lovingly helping her grow into the wonderful person she is. One who will do her best to reach out to others, to empathize.

some days are sunny, some are not

2008-01-22T15:44:00.001-08:00

Today is a gray day. I have a ton of work to do. I have to produce some results before the end of the week. It's so different from the work of parenting, which is constant but where the "results" are -- well, not as concrete and immediate as a memo.

There's a lot of stuff to figure out. Not the least of which is what sweet P should eat for a snack, and whether she's napped enough.

Sigh- the grayness of the day isn't helping. But, quit my bellyaching and get 'er done, right? There is a certain deliciousness to completing a task, especially when I look at P and realize that I will never be done parenting. But in that case, that's a marvelous comfort. There are milestones and markers but no absolute deadline.

It's interesting how I have to hold onto both those truths.

the great reminder

2008-01-13T21:27:00.001-08:00

Saturday was a gorgeous, sunny day here. We made a decision to do no work, but to enjoy the day thoroughly. And we did! We ate the best Chinese food ever (I'm talking delicate sauces, perfect seasonings- not fast food, but fabulous). We had Ici ice cream for dessert, which is the most perfectly beautiful SOLE (sustainable organic local ethical- I didn't make that up) dessert ever.

And we ran into an old dance teacher of mine. His street clothes are dapper, always with a carnation in his lapel. He is the male version of Debbie Allen in "Fame" (carries and uses a big stick in class; yells things like "You will pay in sweat!" and means it; will make you do something 100 times and if your muscles are shaking, 100 times more). I haven't been in his studio in several years now.

He met D and admired P a lot, and asked who was going to be the strict one, because one of us had to, because when she looked up with "those anime eyes" and said please, someone would have to stand firm. And it ain't gonna be Daddy!

I said I had just been thinking about him and class, and how I'd *die* if I took class again. He put an arm around my shoulder firmly and replied, "Don't go looking for things to complain about! You have a beautiful life, a gorgeous daughter. You're a great looking couple."

I feel like I will never forget that. What a perspective! Instead of mourning the things my body won't do again (and what things! He could whip anyone into willowy, strong shape, just perfect for flying), I could celebrate everything right in my life. Instead of being ambitious and wanting to do more, I could savor the beautiful day and the happiness I have with my family. And so I do.

Because every parents needs a minute of pure beauty

2008-01-08T15:25:00.000-08:00

This may be the most beautiful pas de deux I have ever seen. The choreography is stunning. Yuan Yuan Tan is an artist of the highest caliber. (Not to mention her amazing partner.) You will be so glad you took two minutes out for this.

best gift from the holidays

2008-01-06T22:36:00.000-08:00

The hectic holiday travel and illnesses are thankfully coming to a close. We're gearing up for a new year, new routines. I'm looking back at the holiday season and reviewing my best gift.

Was it that aqua polyester pants and off the shoulder ensemble? Perhaps the trivia card game? What about the snide, vitriolic right-wing book tearing up my home state?

No, friends, though these each offer something unique, they weren't the Best Gift.

The best gift was the reminder that it is possible- and necessary- to find quiet spaces in the least likely nooks and crannies of time. That when I'm busiest, I find a moment to breathe, rebalance, find calm in:

- the ten seconds walking in from the garage through the laundry room
- a short bathroom break from my laptop
- taking five minutes to prepare a salad or omelet for lunch instead of eating standing up in front of the fridge
- going up or down the stairs

It's not a huge revelation. But maybe, maybe these little moments of peace will provide me just enough cushion to relieve the blows, setbacks, aches and pains of the day.

It's a very good way to begin 08.

rain, rain, go away. Or maybe stay another day.

2008-01-04T16:07:00.001-08:00

It's day 2 of a major, major storm in our area. It already feels like it's been a week without sunshine, though. Winter days are always about the weak, anemic sunshine-- at its strongest, it makes you yearn for just a little more warmth and light. But it hints at good things to come. This fierce dark gray sky coupled with nearly horizontal rain and wind doesn't bother with attempts at niceties. It's pure drama- makes for good theater, and then begins to feel suffocating.

It's inspiring to see how P deals with it. We were keeping her inside since she's sick, anyway. She's loved watching the rain fall, the branches blow. Then she invents a new game with newspaper, a cardboard box, a few blocks. I was watching her stay busy with her important work, and suddenly remembered a few projects I could work on.

The rain is a pain, but it's sometimes nice to be forced to do things I might otherwise never get around to, and to invent new ways to play.

tonglen- a moment of actual Buddhism

2007-12-15T00:38:00.000-08:00

What do you do when it's 3 am and your baby is up again, inconsolable?

You think about all the other parents who are up at 3 am with you, holding their inconsolable babies. You breathe in and think about how they feel just like you, how you're connected to them because you're all up at this ungodly dark hour, trying to soothe a baby, trying not to think about how deliciously warm and soft your bed is. You breathe out and think of the peace we all want to feel, the comfort we all want for our babies.

I remember practicing this as suggested-- in the middle of a traffic jam. I was holding my breath, in a hurry, when I remembered that every other person on the road felt the exact same way. So I breathed in our frustration, breathed out some peace and unwound a bit, and lo and behold. Traffic didn't move faster but I felt a lot better.

Pema Chodron says it in another way here.

when your kid asks why the tree shines so brightly...

2007-12-13T20:30:00.000-08:00

you tell her or him it's because of the eels.

"If we could gather all electric eels from all around the world, we would be able to light up an unimaginably giant Christmas tree." I think this is the greatest quote ever. Inventor Kazuhiko Minawa found a way to harness eel energy to light up a Christmas tree! It's so popular in Japan! Reuters says so.

Talk about being energy efficient. What a fun way to teach kids about that!

ok to go

2007-12-12T11:14:00.000-08:00

Ever since Minkie said her first word ("duck," at 8 months ish), I've been secretly and happily holding on to the notion that she will not be small and pre-verbal forever. She will one day be able to tell me her wants, her needs, her dreams, her peeves. She will be able to get herself a glass of water and go the toilet on her own, maybe without even letting me know. She will have ideas.

At some points I felt some guilt for feeling relieved that infancy doesn't last. And then a little apprehension realizing that none of this lasts.

But I also realized that it's ok-- maybe even a good thing-- to not want to hold onto infancy and want her to remain an infant forever. Maybe it's a good thing to let go of each stage and to let her grow. I'm sure there will be a stage I want to hang onto, and I'll have to remember this then.

Someone once said that from pregnancy onward (or, from starting the adoption process onward), parenting is a continual process of letting go.

weaning

2007-12-09T22:20:00.000-08:00

When I was pregnant, I think I read somewhere that pregnancy and parenting all comes down to the art of letting go. Continually, over and over again. At birth, at cutting the cord, at every stage as the child continually grows into her own space and personhood.

I am at the weaning stage. It is a gradual process for Minkie and me. The slowness is hard. It's one step forward, one step back (which sounds like we're not progressing toward weaning, and it sometimes it feels like we're not, but I think we are, so let me amend that to two steps forward, one step back).

I miss having regular cycles. I miss the progesterone high of pregnancy (that's some good stuff, progesterone). It's a rough landing. Minkie's having a growth spurt and wanted to nurse more lately, and I found myself melting into bliss this evening as she nursed because nursing is the one time I totally focus on beautiful things. I think about flowers, about D, about cheery things. I do not worry about the state of my parents' relationship, my mother's mental health, my husband's lack of sleep, my own harried schedule.

As weaning continues, I will have to answer the hard question: when during the day will I provide myself the opportunity to lavish in beautiful thoughts when Minkie no longer needs to nurse?

reverence

2007-12-07T11:52:00.001-08:00

I came across the word "reverence" in a poem. Just reading it makes me want to slow down. The word itself inspires quiet, slow contemplation, and an expectation of the divine. It reminds me of "river." The ebb and flow, the grace of water flowing over rock, the edges blotted by mud and flowers. Watching Minkie as she plays-- banging something over and over, inspecting the floor really carefully, feeling the texture of the wall-- it's another way to slow down. Maybe it's a good way to practice feeling reverent.

balance

2007-11-21T11:18:00.000-08:00

There's nothing quite as sweet as the feeling of your baby's soft hands stroking your chest during a nap, nursing or (the rare) quiet time.

There is nothing quite as painful as the feeling of your baby's curious little finger shooting up your nose and pinching with the grip of a sadistic lobster on steroids.

And there's nothing like parenthood to teach me new ways of appreciating balance.

a leaf in the hair is worth ten on the ground

2007-11-19T10:22:00.000-08:00

Minkie had a day of quality yard time last week- front and back, both! She could not have been happier. She and Daddy played tag in the front yard. Her version is to run a little and then fall down, laughing like crazy. She then realized she loved rolling around in the grass. Her hair was a bit leafy.

I took her into the backyard and she quickly discovered a tiny, long-forgotten potted plant, some kind of succulent. It was dried and the roots did not hold it in the soil, so when she turned it over and shook it, the soil and plant fell out. I helped her stuff soil back into the little pot. Then she climbed into her play structure (about a foot off the ground, with a slide), sat down on the platform, and proceeded to dump out and re-stuff the soil into the pot. Her hands were covered with dirt; it was wedged under her nails.

I looked at my little nature girl. I had to stop myself from taking the dirt and pot away from her and brushing her off-- I had to remind myself to let her play.

I remembered when I worked one summer as a cashier at a Very Nice Department Store, in the Very Nice children's shoe section. A girl found a pair of sneakers she liked and ran around with them on, delighted. I liked watching her have such a good time-- until her mom or caretaker said sharply, "Come here and sit down like a lady!"

Minkie may have a leaf in her hair and dirt under her nails. There may be a time when I forget to relax and let her have fun; I may take away the dirt before she's ready, just because I've forgotten that fun is more important in that moment than perfect grooming. But that day, I'm so glad I remembered in time.

Grandma's hilarious addition to the Solemn Dialogue on Race

2007-11-12T22:14:00.000-08:00

It's 8:00 PM. Minkie's gone to sleep and I just popped in a nice, relaxing, evening yoga DVD. I am hoping that no one watches me.

My mom makes herself a snack and settles in the glider behind me.

I am working myself into a shoulderstand when Mom says, "Is she Indian? She looks *just like you*!"

"No she doesn't," I grunt, watching as Hemalaya, the teacher, rolls out of the pose.

Mom isn't blinking. "Yes she does! That's you!" She is excited.

"Mom! I look like a lot of Indian people!" I tell her. I have been told all my life that I look like the quintessential Kerala female. I was born and brought up in the U.S., so I just take that on faith.

"Do you know her?" Mom asks.

If I didn't know it was my mother sitting there, snacking and chatting behind me, I would have *sworn* it was a white lady from NotDiverseLand. Nope- my own mother, born and raised in Kerala, India, immigrated in her early thirties, is asking me if I know the Indian woman in the tv doing yoga. Because we look so alike.

And that is your parenting moment of Zen for the day.

scrapes

2007-11-11T15:41:00.000-08:00

Minkie is a brave girl. She was playing in a bookstore and fell and scraped her cheek on a cardboard box. My heart sank and I held her tight as she cried (and she does this extremely heartstring-tugging thing where if she's really hurt, she'll cry, then have her mouth open in a shocked silent "O" for a minute, then really scream. Oh the tears!). I cared for the scrape and then, while I still felt bad about it, she was off and playing.

Talk about being in the moment. I don't know if the pain was still there, but the sudden shock of the injury was in the past, and she was on to the next. She reminds me not to rehash too much, either physical or emotional booboos.

another take on mornings

2007-11-10T07:51:00.000-08:00

D came home very late last night from work. This is not unusual for him- if only his students knew!

At 10:30 PM, I heard it on the monitor: Minkie awoke briefly, cried out, fell back asleep.

At 11:30 PM, I could not keep my eyes open; I could not wait up for him. I went to bed where Minkie was already asleep in her crib. I am in the process of nightweaning her. Also, due to our circumstances in suburbia, we are sharing a room. Thus nightweaning is a challenge.

At around midnight, D slipped in.

At 1:30, Minkie awoke, cried out, listened to me to talk to her soothingly from our bed, settled back down.

At 3:30, Minkie awoke, cried out, listened to me to talk to her soothingly from our bed, settled back down.

At 4:45, Minkie awoke and cried out. I decided her night was officially over and brought her into our bed to nurse and nap.

I fell asleep, and she shifted, and I awoke. Usually I'm so groggy at this point that I can't see straight. But today I noticed the intense, flame-orange streak in the sky- sunrise. It's not the first sunrise I've seen, especially as a relatively new parent, but it's the most vividly colored.

In about two minutes, it had faded to a nondescript pink, a washed out blue. It's the first morning in a really long time that I felt lucky that my baby awoke me at that hour.

the leaves have changed

2007-11-09T19:28:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I took Paloma into the great outdoors that is our little suburban front yard.

She *loved* it. There is no end to the circles she can run, stopping to pick up crunchy leaves or squeeze a couple of rocks or just fall down laughing.

I noticed that the leaves have changed from the brilliant hues of early fall to the serious, crackly, dry brown indicating winter. She stood leaning against my legs for a minute, and we just stood there.

I thought about things-- an Amy Winehouse song, my dad's oral surgery-- and then I realized I could be thinking about nothing at all, just standing there and observing the moment. And I did that, and it was really a beautiful fall moment-- clean and austere, and a little bit lonely, except for the little girl standing with me.

What's this blog about?

2007-11-09T18:07:00.001-08:00

I really appreciate experiencing a moment of peace in the day. You too?

I'm a mom of a one year old, working from home for a nonprofit, saying "yes" to more volunteer gigs than I should, squeezing every second of time with my spouse as possible, and basically keeping lots of plates spinning.

Sound familiar?

Join me (nearly) daily for a moment of Zen with Minkie (the nickname for my daughter), or without her, discovering the little (sometimes hidden!) moments that make parenting a beautiful endeavor.

I write from the context of my ever-evolving roles of mother, daughter, wife --and career woman, and jazz and opera lover... I'm bringing it all to the table in the hope that where I find and share a moment of peace, you will too.