Our Own Private Forest

Though we live about 20 minutes from downtown LA, and there is a major freeway bissecting our town, I usually feel like I live a million miles from the major metropolis, at least the stereotypes thereof. People from out of state and out of town, it seems, think of people who live in LA as shallow, rich, shopaholic, plastic and botoxed and obsessed with celebrity culture. I'm sure there's some truth to this for many Angelinos and probably many people in our own little town. But as I walk or drive around town, I am much, much more likely to see women in sweats, their hair in a ponytail, walking a big dog than someone in the latest fashion, with a face unrecognizable to their high school friends and a dog in their purse. The original purpose of our little town was to be in "the country." It seems that much of that original purpose has been replaced by suburban shopping centers, SUVs and houses that fill an entire lot. But some elements remain. We still have very few street lights or sidewalks. Most of the town is still not on sewers. The city is littered with trees; eucalyptus, sycamores and California oaks, some smackdab in the middle of the road. And we have our horse trails.

Today the kids and I decided to have an adventure. Inevitably, these adventures take place on the horse trail. We've been exploring different aspects of it, going for short walks, collecting pinecones and leaves. Since we are on two feet (and not four), there is only so far we can go at a time. Today we were in a new (to us) part of the trail, canopied in ancient oaks. Even though today was a holiday and a gorgeous fall day, we came across only four other people on our walk. We had the trail almost completely to ourselves. The kids made up stories about where we were as we explored what felt like our own private forest. It was beautiful, peaceful and centering; the perfect way to forget about the stress of every day life. How lucky that we are to have all this right here in our own town. My kids were so excited to see two "big kids" who were having their own adventure, scouting spots for a scene in their "movie." (OK, it is still LA.) I can't wait for them to have their own adventures without me, like my childhood friends Sarah and Heidi and I used to do. I am often envious of people who live on huge properties of land or people in other parts of the country who have woods behind their backyard. Imagine that! How quick I am to forget what is in my own backyard.

One aspect of our walk was a little sad for me, though. We didn't come across a single horse. I know there are still horses in our town. We see them. We stop our car for them when they cross the road. There is even one family who rides home from school sometimes in a horse-drawn buggy. (Seriously. How cool is that?!) But they are getting more and more obsolete. I'm afraid that one day all the beautiful horse properties in town will be filled with enormous houses, swimming pools and play equipment, the barns and stables and horse spaces converted into something else entirely. Or worse yet, someone will subdivide the land and put on two or three or four enormous houses. As you walk along the horse trails, you can see into many of the yards of the homes that back the trails. Gates in the properties make for easy access on horseback. We saw lots of stables, one with six stalls and an enormous green area where horses once ran and grazed. Not a single stable that we saw today had a horse. Some appeared to be converted into storage. One is maybe a poolhouse or a guesthouse now. But most are just empty, their rooves starting to cave in. I don't really remember because well, my memory is spotty at best. But I know that horses were much more prolific in my youth. I remember bringing along a carrot or an apple to feed the horse on the street behind mine. Horses were as much a part of our town as the schools that now define it. It seems that some of the country has left our little town, left many of the stables empty and deserted. And though I have never ridden a horse, I still dream of someday opening a gate from my backyard, leaving behind a refurbished stable and hitting the trails on horseback.

Today the kids and I collected berries and acorns, freshly fallen after this morning's wind storm. Tomorrow we will make a wreath using them to adorn our front door. It will remind me to enjoy the nature that is right around me; enjoy these simple times while my children are young enough to enjoy them with me; and appreciate what has been, what is and what will be in an ever-evolving world.

A Little Liar?

Lately Zachary has been experimenting with the truth. Mostly it is very silly, and followed by "I'm just kidding." Sometimes he takes it a little further, and tries to convince me by saying, "I'm SERIOUS! No, I am! I'm serious!" He must say this a lot, because now Juliette walks around the house saying, "I kidding!" and "I see-ous!" He's into opening the front door and ringing the doorbell and then saying, "Grandma's here!" The other day I was shocked when Tyler, our beloved neighbor, actually did appear after Zachary said, "Tyler will be here in five minutes!" I'm so used to being told that Tyler is here or Tyler is coming that this time I dismissed it as well.

I spoke to his teacher, the wise Miss Sarah (love her!) today about this, asking if lying was typical at this age. She reported that it is, but she still recommended nipping it in the bud. (She said some parents actually find the lying amusing! Seriously?!) She suggested that when he tells a tale, he needs to start it by saying, "This is a made-up story." The last thing we want to do is kill off Zachary's imagination, which is extensive. This way, he can still tell the story, but starts to understand the difference between lies and the truth, make believe and reality. I haven't tried this yet, but will give it a go!

So then the second part of this story is last night when Jason was taking out the trash, he counted about twenty candy wrappers in Zachary's trash can!! (First of all, so sly, and yet, so not sly!) He's been closing the pocket door of the kitchen lately while I'm in there cooking and closing his own bedroom door. Now I know why. So we are in the midst of this little crisis. Jason and I weren't really sure what to do for a "consequence" (not a punishment, as Miss Sarah pointed out), and we really feel that the punishment should fit the crime. But then he did suffer some immediate consequences when he couldn't fall asleep and then woke up crying in the middle of the night because his body was hurting. Well, YEAH! So we are going to lay off the sweets for a bit, and we are trying to stress that we aren't so much upset about the candy eating, but more about the sneakiness. Hopefully he has also learned that we ration the candy on purpose. His little sensitive body can only handle so much. Fortunately he hasn't figured out yet that his father and I have been doing the same thing every night! Oh Halloween candy!! I curse you!

Belly and Boobs

Almost nine years ago, I became pregnant for the first time, with Annalise. Since then, I have had four other pregnancies, including two very early miscarriages before I got pregnant with Juliette. And I have nursed for 22 months (Annalise), 25 months (Zachary) and 20 months (Juliette). Let's do the math here and realize that, minus a few months, I have spent almost all of the past nine years either pregnant or nursing. That's a long time to dedicate my body, share my body with another person. Since we plan on Juliette being our last baby (I know -- be careful what you say), now that I am done nursing her, my body is MINE for the rest of my life!! This is a crazy concept to me.

For nine years, every time I took a sip of wine or coffee, was around second hand smoke, stayed out late (and by late, I mean past a feeding time), took a Tylenol or ate a Halloween candy bar past four in the afternoon, I worried about the repercussions -- not for myself, but for the barnacle. Now, if I want to, I can drink lots of wine! I can drink a whole pot of coffee! I can take the kind of cold medicine that knocks you out so you can actually sleep and perhaps recover from said cold. Maybe I'll take up smoking! (All right, well we all know that's not going to happen, but I had to try it out to see how it sounded!)

I'm not going to become a lush. And we all know I can't handle more that a half a cup of coffee without the music getting faster or my head spinning off into outer space. But I am going to go out with my husband for a date every now and then and not worry about the babysitter putting ALL THREE kids to bed! I'll go out with my girlfriends and come home late! I'll have weekends away! I might have something that resembles a life beyond my kids. This probably sounds ridiculously far-fetched to those who haven't left the world of pregnancy and nursing and so I'll keep you posted on the progress of this whole "having a life" thing.

The truth is, part of me is in mourning over having my body all to myself again. Now that I know that my extreme uncomfortableness (yes, I'm using that as a word) with Juliette's pregnancy was caused not by the pregnancy, would my body put up with another pregnancy? Am I not too old? Could we afford another baby? (Well, the answer to that one is easy. No; we can't even afford the three we already have.) Would I have time for four children? These are all good, valid questions. But a different part of me is seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. We just bought Juliette her own potty. She is speaking in complete sentences, and therefore we usually don't have to just guess what it is she is trying to tell us. We will someday soon be able to travel without diapers and a stroller. Someday in the far, far future, without carseats. We'll be able to go for a whole day without worrying about putting someone down for a nap. Jason and I might be able to go on a little vacation just for ourselves!

I am mourning the end of the baby phase. But I am celebrating this new phase of increased independence as well.

And my babies/big kids still need me. They still like to be picked up, kissed and cuddled. Nobody soothes a hurt tummy, a fall from a scooter or bike, having a toy taken back by a big brother or sister, an asthma attack, hurt feelings or a soccer ball to the nuts like Mommy. They need me to help with homework, learn how to ride a two-wheeler and to throw Friday night dance parties. Someday they'll need me to help with broken hearts and college applications.

If I've learned anything, it's that these phases go by too quickly. I can't spend too much time reflecting on what's been and what's yet to be. I need to enjoy the little moments that happen every day. Today was a beautiful fall day spent at the park with Grandma, Juliette and Zachy. Zachary can pump on his own, but still giggled with delight when I gave him one under-dog after another. Juliette just giggled with delight and narrated the whole afternoon. When Annalise came home from school, I was greeted with, "Mommy!" and a great big hug. Life is good.

So as my boobs shrink back to their pre-nursing, pre-pregnancy size (sigh. Good bye 32G, hello 32B), I must remember how much my life has grown in the past nine years. I have the stretch marks, the differently shaped belly button, the lengthened torso (What's THAT all about???) and the widened hips to remind me of the past nine years. And I'll move forward to the next phase of independence. I'll shed a tear today, but I'll rejoice tomorrow when Annalise figures out how to pull up "Word World" on the Tivo, giving me five more minutes in the shower. Today I'll mourn that there is no longer a baby in the house. But tomorrow I'll celebrate my big kids.

Goodbye belly. Goodbye boobs. You've been good to me.

Smelling the Roses

I have been generally ignoring all of my responsibilities lately, including writing in my blog. I had surgery a few weeks ago and the recovery from that has largely taken over my life. It was supposed to be a pretty simple surgery, but of course not for me! I ended up losing a lot of blood, having really low blood pressure and extremely low hemoglobin levels, a bad reaction to the anesthesia and two blood transfusions to try to remedy it all! It was more than I signed up for, and certainly it worried quite a few people. (But not me -- I was still kind of high from the anesthesia and Vicatin.) This week I am feeling so much better and was even able to walk Annalise to school today. That alone felt like a major accomplishment!

The whole ordeal has been very eye-opening and humbling for me. For the first time in my life, I really, really needed to depend on other people. And not just Jason and my mom, but really the whole village. My mom, of course, was a saint, and kept the kids for the whole time I was in the hospital and then the kids and me the following week when Jason had to go out of town. And she whipped that baby (who was still nursing the day before the surgery!!) into shape! She now sleeps on her own, in her crib, with little or no crying or drama. It's still unreal for us! (We keep waiting for the other shoe to drop!) Jason was exhausted going back and forth between the kids and me and taking care of all the odds and ends that are normally my responsibility. And then there were all the friends and neighbors who pitched in. Different people brought the kids home from school, kept them for playdates, took them to practices. People sent flowers, brought us meals, brought down our garbage cans, etc. etc. My brother came down from San Francisco for a surprise visit. Yesterday my friend Sarah and my mom paid to have our house cleaned top to bottom and inside out! If you've been here before you seriously wouldn't recognize the place! It's like a whole other family lives here! People have been amazing. And I've learned that people want to help and it's OK to accept help. It's been a good lesson for me.

At the same time, the mother of one of Annalise's good friends just got diagnosed with leukemia. It's been really devastating news, though she and her family have been incredibly strong and resilient. But that, too, has reminded me how much I have to be grateful for. Our lives are short and fragile. Our family and friendships are so important. We should appreciate it all! I will be stopping to smell the roses!