Time Just To Be

I went to a Knitting Convention last week.  It was called Stitches.  While I've been knitting for nearly nine years I've never thought of myself as one who would go to a convention just for knitting.  I mean, what would I do all day?  I'm not much for sitting in a class of a hundred and learning how to form the toe of a sock (although now that I want to make socks I see that it would be a good thing to know). And really, how long can you look at yarn?  (It turns out you can look at yarn all day.)   But it wasn't the yarn that really appealed to me it was the time away.

I left on Friday afternoon and returned on Sunday.  I spent three days and two nights without having to be MOM.  Now I love being a mom.  I am at my core a nurturer and the joy that I get in helping my children grow and seeing my son progress is something that I never quite experienced in my work.  But when you spend your days caring for others, especially those that need a lot of care, you can forget to care for yourself.  Your identity becomes wrapped up in the other.  I am Mom, Matteo's Mom and Malia's Mom.  I am rarely just Genevieve.  This was my time to just be me.

When I left the house on Friday I told myself that for the next few days I would not worry about the kids, Patrick is a more than capable father.  I would not worry about my friends with me at the conference, they are all capable adults.  I would not rush or worry about being at the right place at the right time or seeing everything.  I would take my time and enjoy each moment.  If I missed a beautiful skein of hand-dyed yarn it would be ok.  There would be more yarn next year.  And as you can see I found plenty of beautiful hand-dyed yarn.

It was easier than I thought to let go of being Mom for a few days.  I left the worry and stress that goes with it at home and for three whole days I was just me.  I was still a mother, you can never give that up, but I was also a knitter, a friend and a woman.  I was able to visit with those parts of me that aren't wrapped up in being Mom.  It was refreshing.  I came back happy and recharged.  It reminded me of the importance of taking time  just to be.  I will endeavor to visit with me more often and not wait until the next knitting convention comes along.  I will take more time just to be.

Kids Say The Darndest Things

Computer technology can be wonderful and maddening.  This week it's been maddening. In the midst of writing this post my 5 year-old computer gave up the ghost.  Try as I might, I could not get everything working.  Fortunately I have another laptop computer, a donation from my Dad.  It works well if you don't count the fact that the screen is broken.  But, I was able to hook it up to an old desktop screen that I have and now (six days later) I'm back in business.

While I generally write about my journey with my son Matteo, occasionally my daughter Malia says, or does, something that I just have to share.  This was one of those weeks.  My daughter Malia is generally described as a "lovely girl."  And she is.  She can be the sweetest most generous eight-year-old you've ever met.  She has no lack of self-esteem and is confident in her ability to express herself.  This she does often, or more precisely, whenever she is awake.  Malia loves sound and is happy to supply it when it is in deficit, like when I'm sitting quietly with a cup of tea.  She talks, sings, hums, drums, taps and has now taken up playing the violin.  She is a whirlwind of sound and energy.  She also says the darndest things.

Malia is in third-grade, and this week announced that she was selected to be on the student council for her grade.  She was thrilled to be part of the group that decides when "crazy hair day" or "wear your pajamas to school day" will be.  I asked her how they select kids for student council at her school.  This is what she said:

             "Well my teacher picks the two smartest kids in our grade.  But they weren't available, so me and (friend who won't be named) are doing it."

Really?  The two smartest kids weren't available so Malia got it?  How does a mother respond to that?  Now it's true that Malia is not the smartest kid in the grade.  She still struggles with math and it's also true that "being the best" is not her goal.  Still, I was surprised by her frank admission.  In deference to her teacher, I'm sure that she did not put it this way when she picked my daughter for student council.  But still she was very proud of herself so Patrick and I did our best not to laugh.

As I said, Malia still struggles with math.  Her teacher has been working with her and has asked us to  concentrate on her multiplication.  So, every night for the last few weeks we've been going over the multiplication tables.  I thought she was finally getting them memorized.  I was wrong.  Every week they have a test that checks their understanding.  This week Malia said she did really well on the writing.  "Great!" I said.  "How was the math?"  This is what she said:

           "It was good, but I still have to work on my multiplication."          
So I asked her which multiplication tables she still needed some help on.  Her answer:

          "Well, mostly the bigger numbers like 5 to 12.  And the 3's.  I'm good with the 4's."

Ok, so at least she's got the 0's, 1's, 2's and 4's. Only nine more to learn.  (sigh!!)  I suppose honesty is a good thing.

When it comes to boys honesty is a very good thing.  Which leads me to the thing I most did not expect to hear:

         "Mom, (boy who won't be named) gave me this note.  He wants to go on a date!  I said yes."

What?  A date?  This was very unexpected.  So I asked Malia what a date was, given that she's 8.  This is what she said:

         "You know Mom, it's what teenagers do."

I am sure that the image in her mind is vastly different than the image in my mind.  But just to be positive that we were on the same page I informed Malia that she was welcome to go on a "play date" with him to get an ice cream and sit in the plaza with us and his parents.  She then informed me that it was not a date if parents were there.  I informed her that it was not a "date" and parents would always be there.  I am totally not ready for this growing up thing.  Fortunately the talk of "date" disappeared right after Valentines Day.  Thank God, because I am not ready for this growing up thing!

This weekend I am off to a Knitting Convention.  I've never been to one, but I am going with twelve friends from my knitting group and NO CHILDREN!  I am looking forward to a weekend of just being me!

Going Up the Down Escalator

You know when you have one of those weeks that is so rough that you breath a sigh of relief when it's over? That was last week. Nothing terrible happened - just a whole lot of little things that could have been terrible. It felt like I was trying to go up the down escalator. In fact, life feels a lot like that right now. But some weeks it seems like the escalator is going down faster, leaving me running just to stay in the same place.

The week started with an upper-respiratory cold running through the family, leaving us cranky and achy. Then my husband's asthma-like symptoms flared up, sending him into coughing fits, and gasping to the doctor. Wednesday evening, my School Board meeting went on for 4 1/2 hours. The following morning I did the 6 hour trip down to Matteo's urologist and back. And then, to top off the week, our car (the one we rely on) had a spectacular overheat as Patrick was getting off the freeway.

In many ways we were lucky. Yes, lucky. Everyone got over the cold and no school or work was missed. Kaiser gave Patrick an inhaler and told him that he may not have full-blown asthma and he should hopefully start to feel better. While the school board meeting was long, the district finances are getting better and the community is getting more involved in what's going on in our schools. On Thursday we saw the urologist for a 30 second check up to see how everything was doing after Matteo's October surgery. Matteo had surgery to correct his undescended testicles (a fairly common occurrence in premature babies). And while a 140 mile trip is long for a 30 second appointment, it wouldn't have seemed so long if the doctor had found something wrong - which he didn't. Finally by some luck when the coolant and oil sprayed all over the inside of the hood, the engine did not seize.

By the time my Saturday morning knitting group rolled around, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. It was there that I ran into a friend that I hadn't seen for a while. She and I met when my daughter and her son were in Kindergarten. She has a special-needs child whose needs exceed those of Matteo. While she was still sorting out his needs, she developed cancer. A terrible reaction to the treatment left her with constant, intense pain and almost took her life. The pain keeps her from sleeping and her ongoing treatments leave her exhausted. I was astonished on Saturday when even with everything she was going through, she was so concerned about me and my struggles. Reality Check. How can I waste time feeling sorry for myself. I may be going up the down escalator, but while I'm jogging, my valiant friend is at a full-out sprint. And she's not giving up! I know that I'm not giving up either. At some point I'll get to the top of that escalator. I don't know when and I don't know what's at the top. I do know that the trip will leave me changed -- for better or for worse is up to me.

More Than Socks

Sometimes events happen in your life that are profoundly significant, but that you completely miss at the time. So it was for me when I joined a knitting group some 5 years ago. If you had told me in my twenties that I would be knitting, I would have laughed. My mother tried to teach me when I was young, but I was never any good. And, it really seemed like something your mother, or grandmother would do. But, with the help of my mother-in-law, I learned anew and to my surprise found myself really enjoying it. I could sit, watch football and knit. I was very comfortable in my living room, knitting at night and on weekends. It was the perfect hobby for an introvert, or so at least I thought.

What I didn't know about learning to knit is that to progress, you have to learn new techniques. You need people to help you. You need to join a knitting group. Now knitting was one thing, but joining a knitting group? That's really not my thing. But, I really wanted to try new types of knitting, cabled sweaters, Fair Isle knitting, mittens and socks. I needed help, so I allowed myself to be dragged to the Knotty Knitters Knitting Group. I didn't go very much at first, but as the years have gone by and the group has grown and changed locations to a friendly coffee shop, I found that I miss it on the Saturdays that I can't go. It's not the knitting that I miss, because the truth is I rarely get to my knitting during the two hours I'm there. It's the people, the warmth and the compassion that the group brings to those who join. And, it's my time to just be me.

I've never been part of such a diverse group. We are young and not so very young, professionals and homemakers, engineers, artists, farmers, winemakers, nurses, designers and bloggers. We don't all agree about religion or politics, tea or coffee. We dress differently and like different colors (this becomes a big deal when you're a knitter). About the only things we agree on is that we like to knit, and if one of us needs help we will be there come hell or high water.

So, it really shouldn't have come as a surprise to me that they would help me with Matteo. You see Matteo has braces that he wears on his lower legs to help him stand. In order for the braces to not chafe his legs, he needs long socks that will come up and over his braces. Have you every tried to find knee socks for a one year old boy? It's not easy. So one Saturday, at knitting, I mentioned that I needed some little socks for Matteo. The response? "Genevieve, you've come to the right place!" Soon there was a prototype, then a pattern sent to everyone and now there are five pairs of wonderful socks, and more on the way! What a wonderful gift! Not the socks (although they are wonderful too), but the gift of friendship, of caring and compassion. These gifts are worth more than gold. Thank you!

Had I known that the act of joining a knitting group could be so significant in my life, I would have joined decades ago. But we don't get to go backwards, only forwards. I'm glad that I'm there now.