An Expectant Mother's Dreams

As an expectant-mother, I used to daydream about experiences I wanted to share with my son at various times of his life.  I planned out his first Halloween in great detail, down to the cowboy and spider costume changes, spooky front-porch decorations while we handed out candy, even background music.  None of it went according to plan.  The reality was that he (being only 2 months old) slept through his entire “first Halloween” experience. 

While pregnant, I dreamed about his first day of preschool, envisioning myself crying while holding a linen handkerchief that I’d then preserve in my son’s memory book, while my precious 2-year-old smiled happily and waved cheerfully while looking back (ever so slightly) as he skipped into the class holding his teacher’s hand.  Again, none of that went according to plan.   The reality was that my son screamed in the car all the way to school, proceeded to hold onto his car seat and scream at the top of his lungs when I tried to take him inside, and then cried so hard when I tried to leave, that the teacher asked me to stay for a couple of hours…which continued for the next 5 weeks!  (My only happy memory of these agonizing morning drop-off times is the friend who sent me an email during those weeks and said, “I’d cry too if I had to be away from you for so long!”  Very sweet and never forgotten.)

While pregnant, I dreamed about my son’s first visit with Santa.  I’ve tried every year since he was two….and I will try again this year now that he’s six.  We get a bit closer to the actual Santa each year.  When he was two, he stayed in his stroller on the second floor of the mall, looking down at Santa’s Enchanted Village on the first floor.  When he was three, we actually made it to the first floor, but were still inside the glass elevator.  When he was four, he stood at the back of the Santa line, until a baby started crying and he got spooked.  Last year, five-years-old, we were fortunate enough to happen upon a Santa where there was no line!  My son watched his two other friends happily pose for photos and give their lists to the jolly old man in red.  Son took the whole scene in, studying everything so carefully that I could almost read his mind.  But, when it came time for his turn, he wasn’t having any part of it.  He sprinted out of there so fast that for a moment I thought I had given birth to the next Carl Lewis.   I think this year may be my last attempt.  I’m willing to use cold, hard cash as bribery.   (I’m running out of Santa time, if you know what I mean.)

While pregnant, I dreamed of taking my son to New York City.  It’s always been one of my favorite places.  The sights of people hurrying about, the sounds of the cars and the subway, the smell of slightly burnt street food…I love it!   Every season of the year, my old favorite places, trying someplace new….I love it!   The theater, the dining, the culture….I love it!  New York will always have a piece of my heart and I’ve been waiting to share it with my son.    And, now, it is finally time.  Tomorrow is the day!  Taking Son to NYC for 4 days and some memorable experiences.  He has new clothes for the trip that I have carefully planned out.  We have dinner reservations where Son can enjoy his favorite foods, while foodie Husband and I don’t have to miss out on our NYC fine dining.  We’ve got tickets and excursions planned that would make any first-timer jealous.    And, we’re staying in one of my favorite hotels in a great room with an even better view!

Now, you might ask: based on the way I’ve “dreamed” in the past, am I nervous that this very-carefully-planned-out trip might not go exactly according to plan?   I’m not worried at all.   I KNOW that it won’t go according to plan!   And, the good news is that I don’t care!

If I’ve learned anything in the last six years of parenting, it is to identify the one really important aspect of the “dream” and hold onto it.  It’s going to be a great trip, full of surprises and excitement.   And I know that the most important part will happen at exactly the right time.  It may be in the middle of Central Park (when my husband refuses to do the carriage ride), or at the top of Rockefeller Center (when my son refuses to pose for a photo), or in the back of a taxi stuck in traffic (and also smelling like cigarette smoke mixed with sauerkraut) but it WILL happen.   And it will look something like this moment from my pregnant-dream of long ago: 

Son will have a look of absolute-wonder-and-enchantment on his sweet face (with perfectly combed hair and no leftover lunch on his face).  He’ll look at me with wide-eyes and say, “Mom, this is the greatest city in the world.”  And he’ll absolutely mean it.  And my heart will melt.

And, that makes me smile.

Lessons in Friendship

It’s been a tough month for friendship in my house.    I’ve had to make apologies to three different friends this month for mistakes I’ve made and hurts I’ve caused.  I had one friend hang up the phone on me in complete exasperation for my actions.  I had another friend call me out on behavior that she found hurtful.   I’ve had to let go of a friendship that was once special but is now not a friendship at all.   But through all of those experiences, I was reminded that while friendships can stand the tests of time and distance, life is precious and can change in an instant. 

My sweet college friend ran out of time in her battle against pancreatic cancer this month.  She passed away at age 37, leaving a loving husband, two young children, and many family and friends missing her smile, encouragement, and touch on the world.   A former classmate and friend died tragically last week, just eighteen months after her husband passed away from cancer.  Her five children’s lives have been drastically altered.   I will miss telling these friends how they made a difference in my life.

Even in their loss, though, they reminded me of important lessons:  to remember that each day is a blessing and to not take one minute of it for granted; to celebrate the small stuff; to hug my son more often; to make a difference in someone’s life; and to be more thankful.

Friendship takes work and care, like a plant that has to be nurtured. I’ll be the first to admit that in the chaos of my daily life, I sometimes move friend-time down on the priority list, and this month, some of those relationships suffered.  I’ve apologized to those who I hurt in this way, and because they ARE such good friends, I know we’ll move forward and continue to have more high moments in our friendships than we have low moments. 

My friend Camie reminded me that while friendship is a gift, some gifts are worth returning if they don’t have any value.  True friendships are not one-sided.  They have people on both sides willing to grow through the good and the bad.  And when a friendship makes you feel bad, more than it makes you feel good, it’s okay to let it go.  It doesn’t make you a “quitter” or a bad person.  It just means that you can’t be your best person if someone continues to make you less than your best.

I’m thankful for the people in my life who put in the time and effort to nurture friendships with me.   I’m thankful for the friends who are there for my good days AND my bad days.  And I’m glad that I can say “I’m sorry” when I’m wrong and know that I have friends who can do the same.   Each one of these relationships is special in their own way and makes a difference in my life.   

I use my 17 smiling muscles much more than I use my 47 frowning muscles in my friendships.  And knowing that I have two more people watching over me and continuing to impact me makes me smile too.

My Nemesis...the Calendar!

Ah…the calendar.  My nemesis.  There aren’t enough hours in the day for all that I need or want to accomplish. 

Scheduling and prioritizing is a daily struggle for me.  Trying to find enough time to take care of my home, spend quality time with my family, nurture friendships, volunteer at school, give to my charitable projects, and still take time for myself is always a work in progress.   And, I only have 1 child!  I have no idea how my friends with multiple children do it!

The amazing and talented Sarah Jessica Parker (frequently referred to in my world simply as SJP) recently starred in the movie “I don’t Know How She Does It”.  But, I can’t tell you how SHE does it, because I didn’t have time to see it!

And, when my inability to prioritize lets down people I care about…well, that is not a good feeling.    Earlier this year, I wrote about asking the question “will this matter in five years?”  I have now posted that question in two different places to give me a gentle reminder that some of the extra attention that I give to menial things doesn’t really matter in the big scheme of things.   And, while saying “no” has never been an easy thing for me to do, I’m learning how to do it tactfully and after careful consideration of how I’m prioritizing my time.    (Thankfully, I have a couple of good friends who actually encourage me regularly to use the word “no” more often…ha!)

Today, I’m smiling in honor of the friends who understood when I had to say “no”!  Thanks to KF and MAJ, I was able to accomplish a great deal on my priority list!   And thanks to GM for the extra help when my well-planned schedule took an unexpected turn!   

One Year of Ritz!

Blog, how I’ve missed you!   And to my sweet friends who have this rambling account of my life automatically delivered to your email box, you’ve probably been wondering where I’ve been.   What a wild and crazy summer it was; and then a wild and crazy start to the school year; and now, it’s almost Halloween.  Times flies.  And, hopefully, my blogging absence made your heart grow fonder for my blathering.  So, back to it…and with a vengeance.   (A month from now, you’ll probably ask Santa to put me on a blogging hiatus.)

We celebrated a special anniversary in our home this past week.  One year since the arrival of our dog.

Last October, I finally caved to the many requests made by Husband and Son.  “Can we please get a dog?”  I agreed to it on the condition that they could find a breed that met my long list of unusual requirements.  In my heart, I didn’t think such a dog would exist, but, a few weeks later, our 9 week old Lagotto Romagnolo puppy arrived.   We named her Ritz, as in the hotel, not the cracker.

Flashback to November 2007.  My son was then 2-years-old and we were staying at the Ritz-Carlton Laguna Niguel in Southern California.  My son loved everything about that hotel: the elevators, the child-size bathrobes, room service with chocolate milk every morning, and the box of toys that the hotel manager left in the room prior to our arrival.  Since we were there the week of Thanksgiving, holiday décor was abundant in the hotel, including an amazing, life-size gingerbread village built by the pastry chef.   Clearly, any 2-year-old would think the Ritz-Carlton was Heaven.  (Actually, I feel this way, too.)

The morning of our departure, my son announced that someday we would have a dog and he was going to name it “Ritz”.   We were spending the day with dear friends and we all laughed the way you do at cute little kids when they say something funny.   We visited that same Ritz-Carlton several times over the next two years, and each time, Son would repeat, “someday I’m going to have a dog named Ritz.”

So, when the little brown ball of fur arrived from Italy last Fall, it was very clear what her name would be.  It fits her personality to be named after a luxury hotel group.   She has very clear preferences of food, toys, bones to chew on, and playmates.  She is accustomed to getting her own way –although she may have picked that trait up from me – and certainly does not like to be told “no” – again, something she probably inherited from me.  

Ritz discovered the pool early in our hot summer and fell in love.  She spent the entire summer swimming around and escaping the record setting, triple-digit Texas heat.  Unfortunately, when we finished swimming, we were usually in a rush to get ready for the next activity or meal and we got into a very bad habit of not brushing her.  End result:  matted hair.  (Yes, you read that correctly:  Lagottos have hair, not fur, which is what makes them hypoallergenic.)

So, Ritz had a major haircut mid-summer and it was not pretty.  She gave me dirty looks for an entire 24 hours after she left the groomer.  I spent the next week bribing her with special treats and extra love, and she finally got over it.  I kept telling her that at some point in every girl’s life, there is a VERY bad haircut (mine went on for a 2-year time period when my mother went through a perm phase.)

Present day:  three months later and my beautiful Ritz has hair again!  Her hair has grown back and she’s as pretty as ever!    And I will never forget to brush her again!    Ritz always brings a smile to my face…and, more importantly, to my Son’s face.  In one year, she’s truly become a key member of our family and one that I can’t imagine my life without.   I love her; I love her name; and I love how she was part of our family a long-time before she ever arrived.

And that makes me smile. 

PS:   Here is a really cute video from the Discovery Channel about Lagottos for any of you interested in a really fabulous breed!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1hnOY2hioG0