Feeling Small

Just before I left on my vacation, I read an article about the value of being out in the wilderness and feeling small. Insignificant is the word used in the BBC article, which sites a study that concludes these feelings of smallness and insignificance compared to the enormous, beautiful world around you, might just make you a nicer person. True? Maybe, maybe not. But man, did I find myself feeling small on the Nantahala river.

As we drove into our vacation spot at the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC), I felt myself shrinking. The spectacular mountains and the narrow winding roads are served up like a slice of humble pie. It's a unique spot at the intersection of the Nantahala River and the Appalachian Trail. The magnitude of the earth's beauty is all around you. You can feel the difference in the air you breathe. Our cabin is among the trees, and the river flows just down below.

But today I was on the river. A tiny person in a tiny boat, making my way down through the mountains and trees, through the rocks and the river. This river, that from afar doesn't look much wider than a highway, but embodies as much power on its own as a highway filled with cars. The sunny and almost ninety degree temperatures settling down on the crisp chilly water, created a misty steam rising from its surface. Off in the distance, my son and his friend were just two lego-sized figures paddling along enveloped in the steam, through a gorge in the Nantahala. I thought to myself, my G-d, they look so small.  And I realized, so must I.

How trusting we are. We acknowledge our smallness by respecting the power and vastness of nature's biggest and most beautiful places. Never do we brazenly believe we are the ones in control. Instead we give to the power of the river, respect the direction toward which it sends us, and ride with the force of its flow. Today, I was a rubber ducky, just going with the flow of the Nantahala River.

I am insignificant to the flow of the river. It will flow with or without me, and inspite of or despite me. The magnitude of its beauty and its power is not lost on me.

No Words

There are no words for the river running right beside you

There are no words for the gushing water or the setting sun

There are no words for the sounds of crickets and cicadas, or

a bird calling the sounds of a cartoon snore

There are no words for the quiet still, woods

There are no words for escaping the everyday 

There are no words for nighttime darkness, 

the kind when you can't see your hand

There are no words 

for the mountain skies

the scenic views

the rustic trails

the clean, fresh air

There are no words.

3 Generations of Crazy

Over the years, there are experiences you have as a child and a parent that really characterize your family. For example, families who can't have holiday gatherings without a blowout and fighting, that's a certain kind of family. Families who take every family vacation to Disney World, no matter how old their kids are (or if they even have any kids), that's a certain kind of family. You get the idea. And you can probably see where I'm going with this too. Don't worry, I won't disappoint. 

I am currently on a family vacation. I'm traveling with my husband, our only son, and his best friend. We're heading up to the mountains in North Carolina, but on our way, we stopped at the beach for a couple of nights, where my dad and stepmom are vacationing for the month. Last night my dad grilled a great dinner, we watched the gorgeous sunset, and reconvened around the dining room table to play games. I said games, but we really only played one game. Brace yourself, because three generations at the table, and we played Cards Against Humanity! Yup, I played CAH with my kid and my dad. Before you judge, let me say this. I grew up in the most open, ask me anything environment. My parents let us ask anything and they were always up front. My dad even told a story today about when I was really young, and strolled into the kitchen asking them what a boner was! Anyway, I digress.

The point is this. I laughed so hard I practically peed my pants. The graphic cards, my kid reading them out in front of his grandparents, me reading them in front of his friend, and the grandparents reading them in front of everyone... it was an absolute hoot! Some of us had to explain certain cards to others, and there were a couple that got googled, but that's ok. The hardest part was playing to the holder of the black card. My son and his friend, who play with their friends all the time, have each other figured out to a tee. But trying to read your parents and your grandparents, that's another story. The humor is a little bit different.

Anyway, some families would never find themselves with this choice on game night. Not sure what our choice says about our family. But I supposed it characterizes us as accepting and fun. Or maybe we're just a little crazy!

Shades of Summer

Perspective and direction paint different shades of summer

in front of me facing west, I breathe in the air of the Gulf

as the evening sun begins to retire into the horizon

and low tide rolls gently to the shore rinsing the shells

I turn and glance south and the sky is cool

blues are turning purple and blending with pink

an Artist's water color, soft and wispy

like carnival cotton candy

I turn and glance north and the sky is warm

blues are spreading into the cottony white clouds

golden glow casts out, bringing orange into pink

beachgoers trying to capture its beauty

Small under the vastness of the sky

we are extras in nature's theater

spectators of the scenic artistry

gazing up at the shades of summer 

Vacation

Vacation elation

it's a celebration 

an absolutely 

amazing sensation 

Brief liberation

a work cessation 

the beach, the mountains

true excitation 

Recalibration

rejuvenation

nothing but total

relaxation

relocation

recreation

vacation 

Wait and See

You'll just have to wait and see.

That's what the doctor told me about the possibility of nursing a baby, following breast reduction surgery when I was eighteen years old. I have to admit, it mattered then, but it seemed such a distant issue. I didn't worry myself over it.

We'll just have to wait and see.

That's what I told everyone when I got pregnant.  Nursing was beginning to gain popularity again, after a generation of formula and bottle feeding. Everyone wanted to know if I planned on breastfeeding, but it was a difficult question to answer. It didn't matter if I planned to or not, my body was going to decide for me. I convinced myself I could will it to happen. If I took care of myself during pregnancy, which I did, and I wanted it bad enough, it would happen. Then I gave birth, and it didn't. It wasn't that my baby couldn't latch or that he didn't want to eat. It was me. I had gone almost a full week trying, and it was so difficult to know. Was he eating enough? Was he eating at all?

Let's just wait and see. 

That's what the lactation specialists in the hospital who probably meant well said when I had my doubts. They really did a number on me. They insisted I keep trying and sent me home with the mega machine breast pump. Not the ones you buy in the store, a loaner from the hospital. They gave me all kinds of strategies and told me to wrap my breasts in cabbage leaves to stimulate milk production. They pressured me to keep trying, made me feel like I was a quitter if I didn't keep at it. I felt inadequate and uneasy, and I didn't sleep much. I wouldn't call it postpartum depression because it was only around eating times. No matter how hard I tried, it just wasn't happening. I could just tell my baby wasn't eating.

It's ok. Let's just give him a bottle.

Image retrieved from myhealthybee.com

That's what my husband said to me the night before he had to go back to work. He looked at me and sensed my desperation. It's ok, Laurie. And he went into the kitchen and prepared a bottle of formula and brought it to me. And just like that, my tiny little baby boy chugged down his first bottle like a beer on Super Bowl Sunday. I was grateful my baby was eating. I was grateful my husband was so supportive and understanding. I only wish the people in the hospital would have been a little more sensitive to my experience. It took me a couple of months to get over the idea that nursing your baby doesn't make you a better mom than one who bottle feeds. Being a good mother means giving your baby what he needs, and often your instinct is the best indicator of what those needs are. I knew my baby wasn't eating. I knew I wasn't nursing successfully.  Thankfully, my husband knew when I needed to be reassured. I love him for that. And it was win-win because my husband got to enjoy the bonding moments of feeding our baby too. And for that we're both grateful.




 

Natural Consequences

I had a conversation with a co-worker today while we monitored the lunch room. We're about the same age, but her son is approaching two and mine, eighteen. She told me from everything she's seen and heard from me about my son, he seems like he's a really good kid. It was a conversation evolving from chit chat about some of our students. And I told her he is a good kid. She then asked me if he ever really got in trouble. By today's standards and on account of the things we deal with at our school, no. My son has never really gotten into deep trouble. One day I'll write about the closest he came to real "trouble." That's a story for another day.

As we talked, I explained our style of "discipline." Neither my husband nor I have ever hit our son. He's been grounded a couple of times. But generally, we believe in the idea of natural consequences. A simple example of the principle is, you stay up too late and you're too tired to get going in the morning. Or, you don't do your laundry and you won't have clean clothes to wear the next day. Some psychologists will say kids may be too young to process the natural consequences of their behavior, and it would be then up to the parent to help the child understand. It has worked out well for us. Our son is exceptionally smart, and does a lot better with a rational conversation than with a random unrelated punishment. Not to say he never makes mistakes, and has always made the best choices, but no consequence is better than the natural one.

If you've read my blogs before or know me personally, you know how I feel about grades and learning. They are often incongruent. One does not always correlate directly with the other. School has been a challenge of my son. Lucky for him, he doesn't struggle like some with testing. But he does struggle to acknowledge the importance of daily tasks and assignments. As a result, he has great test scores and less than stellar grades. All of this by choice. We don't pay him for A's and we don't ground him for D's. He's making a choice. And the natural consequence of that is he may have fewer colleges to choose from when a smaller stack of acceptance letters arrives. This is an example of how we choose to parent. No fighting over grades, no power trippy punishments. Don't get me wrong, I do my share of nagging and checking in, but ultimately it is his choice.

Another example is how he earns and spends money. At sixteen, as soon as he got his license, he also got a job. Unlike some other parents (I do not judge, I'm just demonstrating comparison.), we do not take his paycheck. In fact, we never even see it. He has his own bank account, and he has a responsibility to make an agreed upon contribution to his car insurance and pay for his own gas. He makes a payment to us monthly, either in installments when he gets a check every two weeks, or once per month. We're flexible with him as long as he gives us the money. We still pay for parental things like haircuts and lunch for school days. And when his hours are low for a pay period due to reasons beyond his control, we may help with a few extra bucks, but that's it. So if he gets paid, spends a bunch of money going out with his friends or on the latest computer component he just has to have, that's his prerogative. But if he depletes his bank account before he gets paid again, and asks for money for non-necessities, well the answer from us is usually no. You spend all your money before you make more, you're out of luck. It's a natural consequence.

We decided early on, or maybe it just happened without decision.  We haven't and will never micro-manage our son. He needs to learn life lessons by living- taking risks, figuring stuff out, and yes- making mistakes. Allowing him to do all of this while still under our roof allows us to help him process it all and learn with our guidance and protection.  We process but we don't punish and we don't fix. Some would say we're too hands off, that we're not showing him the way. I've been accused of all kinds of parental no-no's. I guess it's all a matter of what you value.

I value my son's ability to learn to act instinctively and intrinsically. I believe he is growing up to be extraordinarily independent. Problems don't scare him, they challenge him. I feel pretty confident that no matter what life throws at him, he'll figure it out. I'm certain of it, in fact.

He never allows me to take photos. I forced him today!