My grandmother said the happiest day of her life was "giving birth to Frances. It was the only thing that was ever all mine."
I know exactly what she means. Of course I know that Eliza isn't all mine any more than my mother was all my grandmothers. My grandmother called my mom "the rebel" because she didn't like to clean, she didn't want to join the convent and she had to go and her father's skin instead of her mother's. The feelings of that child as being your complete possession eventually give way to the realization that this is a whole other person, working pretty damn hard to distance herself from you.
But ah those early years with the right kid, for a little while you have that great gift, that perfect love. Eliza is my perfect love.
My mother often described as the kid that was always walking up and down the street knocking on doors looking for some one to play with. I'm still kind of like that, a very lonely person who longs for a large family and chaos and people around me all the time. I gave birth to Eliza and suddenly I had that some one to play with.
Eliza and I were alone for marathon stretches of time, often 12-14 hours without relief. There were days when I truly feared I might go insane but then I didn't and then I realized I wouldn't knowing that was so freeing. She started smiling and adoring me, screaming and reaching for me starting at only six weeks. I am not exaggerating here. I remember the moment so clearly. I had a babysitter interviewing to come and help out for just a couple of hours a week. I told her a little about Eliza and handed Eliza to her. Eliza's head snapped towards me, her eyes widening, not in fear but almost in anger. She opened her mouth and let it be known that she was severely pissed off that I handed her off.
The babysitter calmed her down, I was impressed and I hired her. And Eliza was okay with her but that was it. For months, whenever anyone tried to hold her--my mother, C, my father--she screamed. Her scream often sounded like a fake cry. She wanted me and that was that. No one had ever loved me like that before.
I took her everywhere. The world was suddenly new and hopeful and as bright as the sun if you looked at it directly. Stumbling across a band at the South Street Seaport turned her into a whirling fireball of dance. A first taste of chocolate gelato brought back that forceful, pissed off wail for more. I walked for miles with her in the sling, her face turned up to smile at me and then peer over my shoulder to make goo goo eyes at some person behind me.
We took Mommy and me tumbling classes, music classes and playgroups. Every day was a celebration of our perfect love. When she got her first real cold, I must have sat with her for two to three days straight, only putting her down to go to the bathroom. She and I slept in the living room on the fold out couch together while her father snored away alone in the bedroom.
As the years passed, I tried to prepare myself for the inevitable turn, that moment when she wasn't so into me anymore. But the thing is, even now, with her entering third grade, it still hasn't happened. She still adores me and often when we're together it's still there, our hands entwined together, our perfect love.
Tonight we went to Summerfest, an annual music and fireworks festival along the water near my mother's house. She and I started going alone, my mom at home with baby Elena, and after the fireworks we'd go back to my mom's house and sleep. Tonight Elena came with us and we came home after the fireworks. It hurt knowing my mother's house was empty, remembering so many nights inside her house and hearing the fireworks and knowing that the house was dark and eerily quiet.
As I drove home, I thought of our first Summerfest. The band was a Bruce Springsteen tribute band and Eliza got a huge Spongebob ice cream treat. It was the messiest treat in the world. I'm a huge fan of the boss and being outside, listening to that music as the sun took it's sweet time setting; it didn't get better than that There have been many Summerfests after that one but it's the first one that sticks with me.
On the way home, we passed a park where the kids and I attended an Earth Day fair, maybe when Eliza was in Kindergarten. We passed the Point Boardwalk where we've gone almost every summer. So many afternoons watching Eliza run around at the park on the Bay near my mother's house. Watching her run alongside the hill at Twin Lights. Standing in the ocean one night, snapping photos of her and Elena running away from the waves, into the sunset.
I have loved her childhood so much, a childhood that's forever behind me. She's still a kid, she's still my loving kid, my Eliza but for how much longer? How many more Summerfests will she enjoy, being stuck with just me when she can go with friends? I finally knocked on the right door and got exactly the playmate I wanted and pretty soon she's going to move off and find some other people to play with, people who she thinks about more than me. My perfect love with be gone.
I honestly don't know how people cope with their children growing up. I guess other people have lives and have relationships outside their kids. I've always known it wasn't healthy to put all my eggs in one basket but no one, no one loves me like she does. With my mom gone, I often feel like Eliza is the only person in the world who loves me.
If you're wondering about Elena and feeling bad that I don't talk about her and me and a perfect love, it's not that I love Elena any less. Quite the contrary, sometimes I pick up Elena and feel a love surge through me so strongly, I feel like I just can't hold her tightly enough. But Elena pushes me away. She loves me and when she does give me one of her little hugs, I can't begin to describe how it feels to have those little arms around my neck. Elena loves me, but she is not so affectionate, she is not so adoring and has Eliza in between her and me. From day one, she was happy with whoever held her. She went through her period of wanting to be held all the time, sure, but she didn't care who was holding her. I like that about her, I like that independence.
And I like seeing it in Eliza, when she runs into friends and suddenly I'm invisible. I don't feel hurt, only happy that she seems to be relating to her peers in a healthy way.
But still, at night when I'm driving home from fireworks and the kids are sleeping in the back seat, I can mourn the small children years that are in my rearview mirror. And say thank you to my Eliza, for being such a wonderful, amazing, beautiful and most of all loving, girl.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Thursday, August 8, 2013
A Childhood of Magic
Some one once said how they'd love to relive the first year of her son's life all over again with exactly the same baby. As her son neared the age of one, she longed for a baby but not a new baby, just to go back and repeat every moment with her first baby. I loved when she said this so much because that was exactly how I felt as I watched Eliza's babyhood evaporate in front of my eyes. I would go back in a heartbeat and relive every moment of it, everything, even the bad stuff because truth be told, there wasn't much of that.
Another friend once said that a child is a chance for our happy ending. I certainly see so much of that in myself. My singing and dance dreams I'm trying to make happen for Eliza, whether she wants them or not. I have to step back sometimes and remind myself that it's her life, not mine and that it's up to her to choose her own course.
One thing I've really accomplished with my children is creating a world of magic. It's certainly not magical all the time. Today, the girls spent much of the day together in the playroom with Eliza's iPad or running around with lalaloopsies while I wasted a little too much time scrolling down my iPhone and fiendishly erasing emails. But still, we've had a wonderful summer. Wonderful days at amusement parks, water parks, dinner at our local hibachi grill where we watch the chef light a "volcano" (tower of onions) on fire. I put together a little play starring a group of Eliza's friends and turned it into one of the best parties Eliza's ever had. I took the girls to Storybook Land and surprised them with a hotel in Atlantic City and dinner at the Rainforest Cafe, a place they loved so much in San Francisco.
I've loved reading children's books so much with Eliza because we can open a book and enter into another world with a bake shop ghost, a sandcastle that turns into a real castle, a bed that flies over the hills of Tuscany. Reading those books with Eliza made me feel reborn into a world where anything was possible. That's childhood. The days are long but your imagination is the world. YOur body is quick and free and full of energy.
When C and I split up, I had no plan. I looked at the apartment we've happily lived in since 2009 and liked it so I took it. The landlady mentioned turning the den type room off the kitchen into a playroom and I took that idea and went with it. Painting a bright splashy pink that Eliza picked out that looks kind of like a bottle of Mr. Bubble, I'll never forget how happy Eliza was the first time afternoon she spent in there. We didn't have much furniture other then our beds and her plastic red table and chairs from Ikea but I'll never forget cooking our first dinner (pasta primavera) while Eliza sat on that red table and colored, humming happily. I stood over that stove listening to how happy she sounded and felt so relieved and powerful that I had been able to do this, get out of a bad relationship and give her another home that would make her happy. I don't remember where Elena was at this moment because she wasn't sleeping in a crib yet. Maybe she was asleep in the car seat on the floor somewhere or in the bassinet in my bedroom, but I'll never, ever forget standing over the stove as the fresh tomatoes cooked, listening to her hum in her happy little pink playroom, feeling like I was the best mom in the world.
Best mom, no, but I type this seated on the couch surrounded by Elena's little happy light up wands. That's all it takes to make her four year old body happy, light up wands. When they're happy, I feel so supremely content, like I've just scaled Mount Everest and found it to be easier then I thought. Elena is already four and Eliza is about to enter third grade--this world of magic is about to disappear and my ability to keep them as happy as they are will go away. But for now, the world is magic, just the spin of a music box at bedtime, a chocolate cake baked on a rainy day, these things are all they need to feel joy. Oh how I wish it could be this way forever.
Another friend once said that a child is a chance for our happy ending. I certainly see so much of that in myself. My singing and dance dreams I'm trying to make happen for Eliza, whether she wants them or not. I have to step back sometimes and remind myself that it's her life, not mine and that it's up to her to choose her own course.
One thing I've really accomplished with my children is creating a world of magic. It's certainly not magical all the time. Today, the girls spent much of the day together in the playroom with Eliza's iPad or running around with lalaloopsies while I wasted a little too much time scrolling down my iPhone and fiendishly erasing emails. But still, we've had a wonderful summer. Wonderful days at amusement parks, water parks, dinner at our local hibachi grill where we watch the chef light a "volcano" (tower of onions) on fire. I put together a little play starring a group of Eliza's friends and turned it into one of the best parties Eliza's ever had. I took the girls to Storybook Land and surprised them with a hotel in Atlantic City and dinner at the Rainforest Cafe, a place they loved so much in San Francisco.
I've loved reading children's books so much with Eliza because we can open a book and enter into another world with a bake shop ghost, a sandcastle that turns into a real castle, a bed that flies over the hills of Tuscany. Reading those books with Eliza made me feel reborn into a world where anything was possible. That's childhood. The days are long but your imagination is the world. YOur body is quick and free and full of energy.
When C and I split up, I had no plan. I looked at the apartment we've happily lived in since 2009 and liked it so I took it. The landlady mentioned turning the den type room off the kitchen into a playroom and I took that idea and went with it. Painting a bright splashy pink that Eliza picked out that looks kind of like a bottle of Mr. Bubble, I'll never forget how happy Eliza was the first time afternoon she spent in there. We didn't have much furniture other then our beds and her plastic red table and chairs from Ikea but I'll never forget cooking our first dinner (pasta primavera) while Eliza sat on that red table and colored, humming happily. I stood over that stove listening to how happy she sounded and felt so relieved and powerful that I had been able to do this, get out of a bad relationship and give her another home that would make her happy. I don't remember where Elena was at this moment because she wasn't sleeping in a crib yet. Maybe she was asleep in the car seat on the floor somewhere or in the bassinet in my bedroom, but I'll never, ever forget standing over the stove as the fresh tomatoes cooked, listening to her hum in her happy little pink playroom, feeling like I was the best mom in the world.
Best mom, no, but I type this seated on the couch surrounded by Elena's little happy light up wands. That's all it takes to make her four year old body happy, light up wands. When they're happy, I feel so supremely content, like I've just scaled Mount Everest and found it to be easier then I thought. Elena is already four and Eliza is about to enter third grade--this world of magic is about to disappear and my ability to keep them as happy as they are will go away. But for now, the world is magic, just the spin of a music box at bedtime, a chocolate cake baked on a rainy day, these things are all they need to feel joy. Oh how I wish it could be this way forever.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Mama Summer Love
Oh how lovely to look back two months ago when the summer was wide in front of us. Now I've got just two more weeks left at home with my girls before I start a new show. There will still be a few weekends left of summer but it's been so wonderful to be home for almost all of it. What a blessing to be offered a job at the end of June that didn't start until late August.
The days just stretched out in front of us and we have greatly enjoyed them. I signed Eliza up for multiple day camps and was able to be the one to take her to and from every one of them. I picked her up on the day she caught her first fish at marine science camp, I got to watch her at her music theater camp showcase, I got to watch her really bloom as a little dancer in her various week long dance camps.
We traveled only to Pittsburgh to visit Kennywood, the amusement park of my childhood, and place my mother's ashes in the grave of my grandparents. Because things don't often happen as planned, we didn't get to bury my mom during our trip but we did visit the grave and that seemed to comfort Eliza. Getting together with family in Pittsburgh and showing Eliza my grandparents' house and the park of my childhood made her very happy. The girls loved Kennywood and it was a sweet reunion with my college friend Sam and her daughter who we hadn't seen for two years.
And my mother's ashes, which had been misplaced during shipping, were finally recovered and resent to Pittsburgh. She will be buried this upcoming Wednesday. I won't be there to see it but my cousin and a friend of my mother's will be there. It only gets bigger, how much I miss my mom, but there is some comfort in laying her to rest with my grandparents. Eliza loved seeing what little family we have in Pittsburgh so we will return there, perhaps once a year or at least every other year. It was a good feeling, knowing the place that I'd visited so much during my childhood, would still remain something of a home for us even though my grandparents are gone and I only have two aging family members left there to visit. The history that was born there still continues and Kennywood still charms for the girls. And my college friend with her daughter who is only a year older than Eliza still lives two hours west of Pittsburgh and will come in to see us. So the trip was good on so many levels.
Life with my little Lena Loo has been more challenging. She is a delightful, funny, spirited child but she requires more patience. Sometimes I wonder if I just don't have as much patience as I once did or if she really is a more difficult child but there are entire days that are a wash because Elena doesn't want to do something. If she doesn't want to go to the beach, she won't allow us (us being me and Eliza) to put on her swimsuit, if she wants dessert she will throw one hell of a tantrum. It's often just easier to stay home and plop her in front of the TV because I don't feel like fighting with her.
I read something a woman read yesterday, about how she rarely goes out with her two year old and baby alone because it's so hard and I won't lie, I read it beaming with pride because that's all I've done. I moved into an apartment on my own when Elena was only three months old and Eliza was 3 1/2. And we went out every day, we did stuff all the time. We even went to the beach a few times which I'll admit was pretty tough with a baby that young. I remember nights on the beach with Elena strapped in the bjorn while Eliza and I waded at the ocean's edge. We'd then sit on the sand and Eliza would splash in the shallow water while Elena pushed up from her stomach on the sand, her eyes blazing as she looked at the ocean.
When I first realized I would leave C, a few people said they didn't think I could do it, be on my own with two small children. It has been extremely difficult and yet not nearly as hard as people thought. But I did it and would do it again in a heart beat. Moving here has given my girls a life at the beach, a great life that we'll sorely miss when we leave here. We've had summers of small parades through town, kid races at the beach, dance recitals right down the street, Christmas tree lightings across the street and movies on the beach.
Now it's time to start a new adventure. I signed my lease for one more year here but my rent has gone way up since we first moved in. Working in New York and living here without my mom has just proven too difficult. I'm so glad we moved here, so my girls could have those three years with my mother that we wouldn't have had if we lived two hours away from her. I am so grateful for those three years, especially for year 2010 which was the one year my mother was the most healthy. I couldn't quite move away this year, so I'm giving myself one more year before I start to look way out in Queens for a new place to call home.
But for now, I've got two more weeks with these wonderful, amazing and somewhat challenging girls. Today we're going to a nearby waterpark for a day of fun. I'm broke since I've not worked in so long but at least there's work looming. And life is good and I'm so lucky to have this life with my little girls. There are moments when I just don't think I can do this again but at the end of the day, every night I am filled with so much gratitude and love for these two wonderful girls and my happy little family.
The days just stretched out in front of us and we have greatly enjoyed them. I signed Eliza up for multiple day camps and was able to be the one to take her to and from every one of them. I picked her up on the day she caught her first fish at marine science camp, I got to watch her at her music theater camp showcase, I got to watch her really bloom as a little dancer in her various week long dance camps.
We traveled only to Pittsburgh to visit Kennywood, the amusement park of my childhood, and place my mother's ashes in the grave of my grandparents. Because things don't often happen as planned, we didn't get to bury my mom during our trip but we did visit the grave and that seemed to comfort Eliza. Getting together with family in Pittsburgh and showing Eliza my grandparents' house and the park of my childhood made her very happy. The girls loved Kennywood and it was a sweet reunion with my college friend Sam and her daughter who we hadn't seen for two years.
And my mother's ashes, which had been misplaced during shipping, were finally recovered and resent to Pittsburgh. She will be buried this upcoming Wednesday. I won't be there to see it but my cousin and a friend of my mother's will be there. It only gets bigger, how much I miss my mom, but there is some comfort in laying her to rest with my grandparents. Eliza loved seeing what little family we have in Pittsburgh so we will return there, perhaps once a year or at least every other year. It was a good feeling, knowing the place that I'd visited so much during my childhood, would still remain something of a home for us even though my grandparents are gone and I only have two aging family members left there to visit. The history that was born there still continues and Kennywood still charms for the girls. And my college friend with her daughter who is only a year older than Eliza still lives two hours west of Pittsburgh and will come in to see us. So the trip was good on so many levels.
Life with my little Lena Loo has been more challenging. She is a delightful, funny, spirited child but she requires more patience. Sometimes I wonder if I just don't have as much patience as I once did or if she really is a more difficult child but there are entire days that are a wash because Elena doesn't want to do something. If she doesn't want to go to the beach, she won't allow us (us being me and Eliza) to put on her swimsuit, if she wants dessert she will throw one hell of a tantrum. It's often just easier to stay home and plop her in front of the TV because I don't feel like fighting with her.
I read something a woman read yesterday, about how she rarely goes out with her two year old and baby alone because it's so hard and I won't lie, I read it beaming with pride because that's all I've done. I moved into an apartment on my own when Elena was only three months old and Eliza was 3 1/2. And we went out every day, we did stuff all the time. We even went to the beach a few times which I'll admit was pretty tough with a baby that young. I remember nights on the beach with Elena strapped in the bjorn while Eliza and I waded at the ocean's edge. We'd then sit on the sand and Eliza would splash in the shallow water while Elena pushed up from her stomach on the sand, her eyes blazing as she looked at the ocean.
When I first realized I would leave C, a few people said they didn't think I could do it, be on my own with two small children. It has been extremely difficult and yet not nearly as hard as people thought. But I did it and would do it again in a heart beat. Moving here has given my girls a life at the beach, a great life that we'll sorely miss when we leave here. We've had summers of small parades through town, kid races at the beach, dance recitals right down the street, Christmas tree lightings across the street and movies on the beach.
Now it's time to start a new adventure. I signed my lease for one more year here but my rent has gone way up since we first moved in. Working in New York and living here without my mom has just proven too difficult. I'm so glad we moved here, so my girls could have those three years with my mother that we wouldn't have had if we lived two hours away from her. I am so grateful for those three years, especially for year 2010 which was the one year my mother was the most healthy. I couldn't quite move away this year, so I'm giving myself one more year before I start to look way out in Queens for a new place to call home.
But for now, I've got two more weeks with these wonderful, amazing and somewhat challenging girls. Today we're going to a nearby waterpark for a day of fun. I'm broke since I've not worked in so long but at least there's work looming. And life is good and I'm so lucky to have this life with my little girls. There are moments when I just don't think I can do this again but at the end of the day, every night I am filled with so much gratitude and love for these two wonderful girls and my happy little family.
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