...all the other dads were doing it...

In between bouts of shivering, shoveling and scraping (ice scraping that is) yesterday, we hit the slopes for some sledding while the snow is still deep enough to sled upon.  We were lucky enough to have with us one of the relics of days gone by, an antique wooden sled with runners and front steering.  What fun!  Had Mister Man but been in muted snowgear it would no doubt have made for a lovely vintage-themed photo shoot.  Instead, he sported a miscellany of mismatched snowgear...clashy but warm (unlike his fashionably frigid Mami) as he coasted down the hill at record speeds.  All those kids in saucers and rafts and plastic paraphernalia were eating his dust!  I'm definitely making it my shopping mission to seek out and buy him a sled like the one we got to use, before next winter.

    Despite several requests, this Mami declined any trips downhill and remained shivery but stalwart on the crest of the hill while my son dove headlong into winter fun. 

There was one family in particular that garnered our attention as they also sported a wooden sled.  The father noticed us right away and declared his joy that someone else had a real sled also.  His son and Mister Man ran a few races down the hill together and he ever so kindly spent some time aligning our runners and scraping off some excess rust.  What a sweetheart!  So rarely do people seek out ways to be helpful and yet here he was, taking the time to help us get the maximum joy out of the sledding experience.  And let me tell you, this man definitely took his sledding expedition seriously.  He had several antique sleds of different styles, full-on winter proof apparel and a contagiously chipper outlook.  I think it's safe to say he spent as much time on the sleds, if not more, as his children did!

After as long as I could stand the shiveries we finally called it quits for the day (of course promises to repeat were offered up!) and headed home.  On the way home Mister Man piped up from the backseat, questioning why I hadn't traded off rides downhill with him.  I answered matter-of-factly that I had not dressed appropriately and was to cold to even consider getting up close and personal with the snow.  That answer was not good enough though.  So the question was repeated, my answer reworded...and then...silence...for a minute or so.  Mister Man spoke up again, saying "But all the other Dads were doing it..."

And there you have it...in the eyes of my son, I'm both. 

I'm Mami, for sure, all the time.

But when needed or noticed, I'm Dad to. 

A challenge I set for myself when first I became a single parent to (to my best abilities) cover both roles as needed seems to have been realized.   

It's not so much the lack of a dad as the presence of an all-encompassing Mami.

...a dream is a wish your heart makes...

I know in the broad scheme of things, 7 years is not that long. But looking back now on 7 years of my son's life...whew...that's daunting. Like any expectant parent out there I had a head full of dreams, wishes and expectations as I counted down the months...then weeks...then days until my little one came along. Granted, he was not exactly little...ever!

Little could I then have guessed what path we'd wind up treading, but at the time I had some fairly clear ideas on what I was looking forward to:

~weekend picnics on kite-flying days
~backyard romps with the dogs and the kids (yes, note I said kid(s))
~cozy, cuddly reading sessions hunkered down in the winter by a cheery fireplace
~camping trips full of fresh caught fish, marshmallows and enough spooky sounds to bring those kid(s) scurrying in

I'd bore you silly with more, but clearly the point is, I had these idyllic little fantasies swirling around in my head as I awaited the birth of my son.

Maybe it's all those crazy hyped up hormones coursing through the bloodstream, but something about pregnancy makes you think that you're but a step away from the dream life. As though parenthood will become this nostalgia-driven way of life the moment Jr. pops out.

Obviously (if you've read any of my other posts) that is not the way things went down. And yet, these past 7 years have not been without dream-building, nostalgia-creating, life-living...joys. They've just been different than my idealizing past self thought they would be.

While these days my Mister Man is often part of the dreaming process as we imagine up new goals for our little family, there are still some lingering hopes from all those years past just hoping and waiting and wondering when they might have a chance to come true.

As you might have guessed already given this post's title, one of those dreams is made by Disney. I want, rather desperately, to get there before it's 'to late'...'to late' being that time and age when Mister Man is less than impressed with the old Disney magic...and I swear I can hear the clock ticking down. At one point my goal was to spend his 5th birthday there. When that date came and went, it was on to the next one.

And now here we are in October of Mister Man's 7th year, still not having gone. I wonder...am I putting unreasonable pressure on myself? Would he enjoy it as much at 10 as he might have at 5?

Of course the real question is...why am I so fixated on going? Is it really just that fabulous that everyone should experience it? Or am I just desperately clinging to the notion that it's the expected thing to do...have kids-go to Disney-become a soccer mom. All I know for sure is that I'm yearning to add to our photo album the standard childhood shot with Mickey Mouse!

While you and I both ponder life's greater mysteries...I'll keep slipping a few bucks here and there into the 'take my son to Disney' fund. Maybe I'll even get lucky and the those interest rates will decide it's time to rise! :)

...ghosts in jammies...

Not that you'd really have any reason to suspect it based on the content of this blog, but Mister Man and I are pretty darn crafty. In our previous home, the walls bore an ever rotating art installment. And this proud Mami spent a small fortune on frames for countless masterpieces. At one point I started photographing each picture, painting and miscellaneous craft and pieced together photo albums of Mister Man's creative prowess. (Hint-it's a bit time consuming to do so, but it is a great and space-effective way to 'hold onto' each and every last scribble!)

Now we deal in folders, boxes and patchwork giant envelopes to consolidate our ever-growing collection. And Mister Man has learned the value in 'sharing' his artwork also...whether it's destined for his grandparents' homes or off in the mail to a penpal or packed in with cookies for the local nursing home...

The upshot is, we like to create. And getting icky, oocky and just plain dirty is a major perk!

With Halloween mere days away you can bet we're theming right now...ghosts, goblins, pumpkins, bats...you name it, we're making it. And this morning was no different. When Mister Man was done with breakfast he claimed the right to remain in his pajamas based solely on the fact that 'It's Halloween month and ghosts wear theirs the whole month long..." True that, Mister Man, true that...no use in arguing perfect logic like that.

So ghosts in their jammies it is:

To start you'll need some supplies. I tend to retain every scrap and schnibble for future use, but I think you'll agree that in this case the bigger the paper, the better. Grab some construction paper (orange and black) and some WASHABLE white paint. The scissors and string will come later.



Now for the fun! I use cosmetic sponges for arts'n'crafts a lot. There cheap and available just about anywhere in bulk packaging. Using the sponge apply paint to those paws. (I did mine first as a reference so Mister Man could mimic.) And then go SPLAT!





A warm bowl of water and a washcloth are a quick fix to painty fingers.

And yes, Mister Man, we're doing the piggies also! Sponge to apply and this time step fully onto the paper. The print won't come out right if you don't actually stand up.



While that's taking its sweet old time drying, why not make some pumpkins. Orange paint, pointer fingers and away we go. I tried to make mine stripy...Mister Man made his lumpy!



So depending on how many people are involved, your print number may vary. (How disturbing is it that Mister Man's 7 year old feet are not that much smaller than mine!?!)



Get out those scissors and cut out your ghosties! I tried to switch it up a bit from shape to shap. Mister Man could have easily done this with his children's safety scissors (lefties no less!) but he was showering for soccer.



Jumbly skeleton bits!


Time to give those ghosties a personality all their own. Again I varied it from print to print. Admission: we tried to use the fun glitter glue pens to do this the first time but learned the hard way that they're not good for much but mess. So I switched them out for permanent markers. Mister Man directed the look, I did the draw.


This brings us to admission two: see those cute orange alphabet stickers spelling out 'Happy Halloween'? Yeah, they didn't feel the need to stick so much...so we had to make do with stenciling around them and letting them fall off. Perhaps hoarding the craft supplies for 7 years should not apply to stickers and adhesives?!?



Using a long length of string and festive beads we picked a simple pattern and prepared our line. (Tip-count out all your beads, string them all on the line...then make the knots. So much easier!)



I used plain old clear tape to string those babies up and hang them out to flutter.



Can you guess which fierce ghosty is Mister Man's fave?



Season's greeting peeps! :)

...compromise is a dirty word... (back dated post)

No. Really. It is.

The very act of compromising is based on giving in, giving up, or letting go.

Yeah, yeah, I know...it's all for the greater good and all that. Compromise is touted as the great mediator, the final resolution to end all disputes. People seek it out when conflict is getting the better of them. Corporations pay big money to hire fancy lawyers to make it happen at any cost. Even friends and families find themselves living in a flux state of day to day compromise.

Face it: In this 'modern age' of ours, we're handing in our wishes and dreams for a daily dose of compromise and not even counting the losses.

(Let me be clear. I'm not completely knocking it. There's plenty of dirty words out there that can be quite useful, possibly necessary and maybe even a little fun!)

Anyhow, getting back to the point...

Compromise is definitely another tool in our arsenal of social interactions. It's in there with all the other communicative devices: tone and eye contact and proximity. It's a way of making someone else feel heard, and understood and validated. Unfortunately, unlike some of the other tools like laughter and smiles...the implications are not so obvious. Honestly, the darn thing should just come with a warning label. It's got some major consequences after all. Something along the lines of:
"will directly cause some degree of disappointment"
or
"grand potential can become diminished by frequent use"
could be helpful. If people only knew that compromise is just a fancy way of saying 'trade in your high hopes for mediocre ones' I seriously doubt they'd be so eager to reach it.

The reality though is that we are raised to be compromisers...not fighters. We chasten the bickering toddlers and tell them to share the coveted object. We harp on the teenager to at least complete half of the assigned task. We cajole our employees or employers into giving in to constraints or expectations. We even strive for the 50/50 in our relationships.

When did it become ok to stop scrapping for what we really want out of life?

And when did it become ok to trade in hard work-planning-saving-education (or whatever the groundwork may have been) for only half of the dream?

Go ahead: 'google' it...I'm not the only one who thinks so...

...the shape of things to come...

This week one of my facebook posts asked the question: "Which came first, the autistic 7 yr. old or the insomniac mom". I was referencing our current homefront struggle with sleep issues that has spun a bit out of control this week.

(A little backstory: Mister Man has, throughout his life, gone through periods of time where he won't sleep for days on end. Usually these time periods are also fraught with hyperactivity and hypo sensitivity. It happens sporadically, maybe every three or four months. And I've never yet been able to predict it or tie it down to any one cause.)

At any rate, we're in of those periods now. And let me tell you, having a very active boy still needing your attention and assistance at 4am after an already long day can be a bit hard to take.

I've had to modify my old approach from when we lived alone in Ohio, to suit where we're currently at...but feel free to picture us camped out on a stack of fluffy blankets, sipping 'Sleepytime' tea and watching 'quiet' movies into the wee hours. For added accuracy colour in the ever increasing purple-black circles under my eyes when I drag myself off the blanket-bed in the morning and grouse my way to a cup of coffee!

I've noticed this week that my former bounce-back-edness is fading. Used to be, I sort of just rolled with the punches. Sure, three days of wakefulness and trying to sleep on the floor wasn't fun by any means, but I could do it and still function.

This time 'round though...ain't a-happenin'! My whole body is feeling the lack of sleep and cushioning! Muscles ache and burn, my head is dull and roary, I'm clumsy and forgetful. Ugh!

Meanwhile, Mister Man is a veritable ball of energy and life running circles around his speed-aging Mami. :(

-----

Cutting to the chase here and actually breathing life into this blog post's title...this week's sleeptime shenanigans have me wondering about this whole parenting thing. Who's doing the shaping and molding here? Is it the parent who consciously chooses to direct and guide her child....or is it the child's very existence that alters a life from one course to another?

Certainly I can look at my own experience and find examples to support both hypotheses here...but my question goes deeper than what I am able to offer up. Who is being germinated here...the baby/child/young man/adult that I am raising, or the mother/employee/friend/woman that I was/am/will be.

(See? Confusion! Hence the need for backslashes!)

Used to be that the subtitles under my name were defined by what I had been working towards. Singer. Dancer. Actress. My young years and even my young adulthood were spent in a whirlwind of activity...every moment working towards what I wanted to become.

Little did I imagine at the time that something as simple as meeting my now ex-husband could knock me so far off course as to change my final destination completely.

Fast forward through all the grim and gruesome (and sometimes glorious) to the present and you'll find me a woman whose main focus involves her identity as a parent to a special needs child. Certainly I owe a great deal of credit (for my self-perceived success in my current role!) to those skills I cultivated as a young person. My creative side is the sole basis for how I approach challenges. And my love of the arts helps bring joy to the direst of circumstances. But all that acknowledged, I can say without a doubt that this is not the life I envisioned when I was young.

Motherhood has changed me. Therefore my mothering has changed. The parent I might have been is not. And it's not a static existence in this mothering aspect. It's as though the parameters are malleable...outside influences wend their way in, causing minor changes here and there, and further down the line I am something else.

Just as important...motherhood has changed me...in all areas of my life. I am a different friend/employee/person than I was.

My real curiosity is this...having noted the changes that have already occurred in these 7 years, who am I becoming? What other changes loom on the horizon?

And...how much of it can I hope to control? Do I have some hand in my own future self? Can I take in the reigns of destiny and declare who and how I want to be?

(Note: I believe I can. Let's see what happens.)

...small words...

What a blessing today was.

In the midst of some great tumult in my life, my son and I were able to take today to refocus in on what is most important and really, truly be happy for the moment.

I'm proud of myself tonight as I reflect on where I was 10 years ago, who I am today and what I may become. With all this comfort of time passed by, I now find it easy to see the shining moments more clearly than the dark. The sorrows and heartbreaks and fears of the past have indeed faded with time...receding in the face of minor triumphs and major glories.

It really is a matter of (as I told the Mister Man while kissing him goodnight) never, ever forgetting to dream bigger and better than what you dreamt last.

I know the hard knocks will keep on coming. And I know sometimes I'll stumble, sometimes I'll fall...sometimes I will fail. But I know that pushing onward and upward is the only satisfying way to get through life. And in years to come I know we'll have a great story to tell.

...oh happy day...

Mister Man and I are having a blast today...celebrating our annual Family Anniversary Day!
Born of the necessity to take the negative power out of my wedding anniversary date and create a special way of honoring who and how we are now as a family, we recognize this important date each year. It's the day I take off work, Mister Man takes off 'work-school-etc' and we indulge in every whim and whimsy we can come up with to build fun memories that will last a lifetime.

The truth is...had I not made that all important decision to marry my ex...this imperfectly perfect family of mine would not exist. And that is definitely worth celebrating!

On this day I can look back on the road to here and now and look forward to all the years and celebrations to come!

Mister Man and I wish you all an oh-so-happy day and want to remind you to embrace every day for the gift that it is!