Remembering

Sep 11, 2013 | trying to raise humans

I am amazed at how emotional I still am upon this day each year.

I get queasy leading into September.

My eyes got hot with tears I read a commemorative headline or hear a news commentator say “September 11th”. Even more so as the specials of the victims and the heroes begin to pop up on my news feeds, Facebook page, TV guide.

Part of it is pride – remembering how our nation came together during that time.

Part of it is because I immediately transport back to that day.  All the horror I felt as I watched things unfold comes rushing back as if it just happened yesterday.

And still another part is thinking of the difficulties so many face today resulting from those attacks.

It’s all very emotional. Hard to live through something like that – even if you were miles and miles and miles away.

Like so many, I can recite exactly what I was doing that day when I heard. I was driving through Port Richmond in Philadelphia, on my way to the office where I worked in marketing / promotions for a non-profit in Philadelphia. The sky was crystal clear – blue as ever and dotted with some happy white clouds. No sign as to what was unfolding up and down the East Coast – it was simply a gorgeous September day in Philadelphia.

As usual, I was running a bit late for work and was rushing through river-side Northeast Philadelphia neighborhoods – Tacony, Bridesburg, Port Richmond – as I worked my way towards the Delaware River waterfront where our office was. I was listening to my favorite radio program – Preston & Steve, of course. Right about 9 a.m. ET, Preston broke the discussion the crew was having and said something to the tune of Folks, we’re seeing preliminary reports that a plane crashed into one of the towers at the World Trade Center in New York City. It’s not clear if this was an accident or what. It looks serious – we’re taking a quick break and we’ll be right back. 

And it was serious. So. Serious.

I kept driving towards work. To this day, I curse my strong work ethic and how that work ethic prevented me from heading back home. Our office was situated just under the Ben Franklin Bridge and as the news developed, so much uncertainty and speculation on what was being targeted next filled the airwaves. Being situated in an office on the water under a major bridge in a major city located just off the main North-South interstate highway right between New York City and Washington D.C. didn’t feel like the safest choice. My house in Northeast Philadelphia, however, did.

I couldn’t peel myself away from Preston’s updates, and ended up sitting in my car in the parking garage listening until I felt like I wouldn’t miss anything major and had enough time to get settled in my office, turn on my radio and listen  some more. To this day, I can hear the tenor of his voice – I found it to be oddly calming even though the words he spoke were – I hoped – unreal. Familiarity in the face of a developing storm. I needed that.

At the time, Kenny (my fiancé) was a teacher, so I couldn’t reach him. I knew he was fine, but I was panicking because I needed to hear his voice. I called my parents, who had moved to New Jersey about four weeks ahead of this. My mom answered and she was blissfully unaware of what was happening. I told her she needed to turn on the news. Right. Now. She did and I can still hear her saying “OH MY GOD.” in a flat tone of voice – one I had never heard before. She repeated it a few times, and with each passing, her voice got decidedly softer and sadder. We sat in silence for a long time as she took in the news. By that time, the second strike had happened. I cried at my desk. Not because I understood the enormity of what was happening, but because I was scared.

The rest of my colleagues were huddled around the TV in the conference room. I joined them. Until the president of our corporation came in, turned it off and told us to get back to work. That there was nothing we could do, so it was best to focus on being productive. Really, dude? Seriously?

I was young and naive at the time, but I knew this was the absolute wrong decision. People need each other in times of uncertainty. They need community. They need to feel connected. Informed. Supported. Focusing on work was helping no one that day. No. One. (And really, who was focusing?!) That decision felt so disconnected from reality. And so cold. So cold.

As governments and school districts around the world dismissed early and encouraged people to go home and stay safe, I sat at my desk, on the waterfront, under a bridge, right off I-95 and planned events and promotions for a non-profit corporation. Needless to say, I was terrified. And kinda pissed off. We weren’t allowed to leave early. All I wanted was to see Kenny and hug him. I was scared. And work certainly wasn’t a priority for anyone that day. (Expect our president, apparently. Pretty sure we were the only working people in the world who weren’t doing things related to the attacks.)

I made it home just fine. And we sat on the couch (with my brother) and obsessed over the news. I couldn’t get enough information. I felt like I needed to prepare for something. I never figured out what that something was, but I had this innate need to “be ready”. I was on edge for many weeks.

In the days that followed, we kept up with regular things like work and keeping house, getting ready for my cousin’s wedding that coming weekend, getting ready for our wedding scheduled for the end of November. Things were different – people seemed more friendly, more compassionate, more united.

It would be many, many months (…or years) before I finally came to terms with those events. And even today, I am still so deeply impacted, and have such a strong desire to know as much as I can about the victims and heroes who started out upon regular Tuesday that never was.

Fast forward to today, Patriot Day. I heard from friends back East that some schools asked kids to wear red, white and / or blue in remembrance. I like this idea very much.

And then I realized that my kids don’t know what Patriot Day is.

I also realized I am not really ready to tell them. I am not entirely sure why.

I think it’s because I don’t yet want them to know they live in a world where such unthinkable tragedies can happen. And happen on purpose. At the will of another human being. Seems dark in relation to their ages and frames of reference. And I know I wouldn’t be able to do it without crying. I wouldn’t be able to articulate why I was crying in a way they’d understand. I would have no good answers for their questions. Still. 12 years later.

I have, however, been thinking of ways I can help them understand the good things about Patriot Day. I need to read more. And collect ideas from other moms and, potentially, educators. So, I don’t have that story written in my head just yet. Maybe I’ll be ready next year.

Nevertheless, I did have Gavin wear his US Soccer jersey today. He asked me why he had to wear it. I said because it’s Patriot Day. He asked what that was. I simply replied, “It’s a special day for our country.” He was satisfied with that. For now.

So, today, I am remembering. And reflecting. I am hopeful that peace and love grace those who were personally impacted by the events of September 11, 2001 – hoping that their unexpected place in this nation’s history is always reverently remembered and honored. I am also searching for the clarity and courage I need to tell their stories to my children in a way that instills pride over fear, unity over divisiveness, tolerance over anger.

And, We Survived Another First Day of Kindergarten Drop Off!

Sep 9, 2013 | trying to raise humans

Grace and I had a nice first morning of Kindergarten – woo hoo! I think she was ready. We’ve been talking about it all summer and Gavin has been giving her “tips” for the past two weeks.

We picked out her outfit yesterday. She wanted to wear a dress and two ponytails. Done.

Knowing that the playground where she’d recess had mulch (or bark chips as Portlanders say), she made a sensible shoe choice (sneakers). (Hahaha.)

She made sure she had a good lunch (homemade peanut butter crackers, grapes, applesauce and popcorn. Water, not a juice pouch, Mom) and a good afternoon snack (Parmesan Goldfish).

She made sure her backpack was properly adorned with a little bunny she’d attached way back in June following her pre-school graduation.

She brushed her teeth.

She smiled for a million pictures.

And she was ready.

She got herself situated in the car. I drove her up the street, and she asked me to roll down her window so she could say goodbye to Gavin, who was waiting for the bus.

The neighbors and their kids were all waiting for the bus. And the moms and dads and some kids clapped and cheered for Grace as she drove by. And, because she’s Grace, she soaked up every second of that as if she was Kate Middleton presenting the Royal Baby for the first time. That really put her in a good state of mind – so to my neighbors who were there and who are reading this – THANK YOU!

I rolled up the window as we made the turn towards school and Grace said, “Oh my gosh, Mom! That was so great! They all cheered for me because I am starting Kindergarten!” and then she giggled. And giggled some more. And then she said, “That was really so funny.”

I seemed to have timed Grace’s first day drop off better than Gavin’s. We didn’t have to wait around in the car. (Ok. This is a positive spin on “I was running a little late.” or “I was a mom freak-show last year and was 15 minutes early for Gavin’s drop off.”)

She started off running towards school. We saw another mom we knew and Grace happily answered all her questions about starting Kindergarten and playing soccer. She ran towards school some more. She slowed to a walk as she approached the corner – beyond which were the doors to the school. She didn’t really hesitate – just kept right on walking.

We signed in at the office (since I am a Visitor – I need my label :)). She dropped off her lunch on the cart – she remembered just where it needed to go. We walked down the hall towards the steps to Kindergarten. With one hand in her mouth nibbling her fingernails, she slipped her other hand into mine and squeezed it three times, as she often does when she needs a little reassurance. (I taught her long ago that squeezing my hand three times was an easy way to tell me she loved me when she felt scared or was too nervous to say it out loud. I told her I would know what that meant and would do the same back to her. She asked, “Why three times?” I said, “One for each word in I. Love. You.” She grinned – and picked up that little habit faster than anything I’ve seen her do so far 🙂 )

We went up the steps and down the hall. She briefly let go of my hand. But came right back and took it again after three steps. We reached her door. She stopped dead in her tracks. But only for a second. Then she walked through the door. She looked up at me and her nose was a little pink and her eyes slightly watery. She was on the verge, so I pretended I couldn’t read any of the name tags in the backpack cubbies and made a game out of finding hers. That turned her mood right around.

She said hi to the teacher, found her name on the board, and followed a few simple instructions from her teacher. We then read a book – she chose Three Little Pigs. The principal came in to say hello and to dismiss the parents. Grace threw her arms around my necked and squeezed so tightly. She pulled away and looked at me. Pink nose and watery eyes. I gave her a mission – that I wanted one funny story from her first day of school, and told her I’d have her favorite dinner ready for her tonight (spaghetti and meatballs). She grinned ear-to-ear and walked over to her spot at the table. She sat down and the little girl sitting next to her smiled at her.

I waved goodbye and left.

I started walking down the hall, but turned back just to double-check that she was fine. I peeked in the window. And she and the little girl next to her were talking and smiling. PHEW!

I think she’s going to be OK – hooray! Of course, Gavin didn’t start getting upset until the second / third / fourteenth day of school, so I am not counting myself as out of the woods yet. Hahaha.

Seriously, though, I am starting to think that having an older sibling can really help youngers adjust to the transition to school. Gavin’s presence has always been reassuring to Grace – she loves him so much. For the most part, he’s a graceful recipient, but the older he gets, the more he starting to get embarrassed by his little sister. I hope that turns around. Nevertheless, he’s still helpful – and was more than happy to share everything he knew about Kindergarten with her.

Gavin’s Top Tips to Surviving Kindergarten:

• “When I went to Kindergarten, I didn’t have any friends there. But after like five weeks, I had friends, Grace. So you probably won’t have friends when you get there, but you will someday.”
• “Kindergartners have to sit in sections A-B-C on the bus. If you want to wave goodbye to mommy, you have to sit in section AA – that will put you on the side where mommy is. If you don’t want to see her, sit in section A.”
• “I like to keep my lunch box outside of my backpack on the way to school. It’s way easier to drop it off that way. But, on the way home, I pack everything into my schoolbag so I only have to carry one thing. That’s way easier. You should try that, Grace.”
• “Grace, don’t worry if you have to go to the bathroom there. They have bathrooms and there are doors on them. Just ask the teacher when you have to go.”
• “You can only sit on the left side of the cafeteria because you are in Kindergarten. I get to sit on both sides because I am in First Grade. You can only sit on the left until because you are in Kindergarten – next year, you can use both sides like me.”
• “If you need something, just raise your hand. Don’t call out, Grace – you have to raise your hand. And you will know it’s OK to talk when you get a thumbs up from the teacher.”
• “It’s just like Nike school, but it’s Bonny Slope. And there’s only one teacher instead of three. And you bring your own lunch. But you still get snacks in the afternoon.”
• “You get 30 minutes to eat your lunch, so you have to hurry. You will have to go even faster next year because you only get 20 minutes in First Grade.”
• “Don’t worry about getting thirsty. They have water fountains.”
• “You have to be principled, Grace. I kind of forget what that means, but your teacher will tell you. Basically, you just have to be good.”

She can’t go wrong with tips like that, right?! 😉

What a Difference a Year Makes: Starting First Grade

Sep 6, 2013 | trying to raise humans

This time last year, we sent Gavin off to Kindergarten and we were all nervous. This week, we sent him off to First Grade, and we were all excited.  To put it in blog terms, I wrote four blogs about the two-day week that started Kindergarten. This year, I am writing one – and it’s the end of the first week. Hahaha – what a difference a year makes, right?

I think the transition from pre-school to Kindergarten is a big one…kind of similar to moving from elementary school to middle school, middle school to high school, or in the case of private schools, from grade school to high school. With all of this upward mobility, kids share a common ground: there’s a sea of unknowns. And that’s scary at any age!

In Kindergarten, you’re the youngest kid on the block, everyone else in the school is older than you and it’s a whole new environment filled with unfamiliar experiences and faces. Sure, there’s the excitement of what’s ahead, the potential of a new start, etc., etc. But I think for a lot of kids – Gavin included – the fear of the unknown trumps the promise, excitement and potential a new year holds.

Once you get past Kindergarten, you’re a big First Grader. You know what to expect: you know what the school looks like, where everything is – from bathrooms, to the cafeteria, to the gym, etc., you made friends / met a ton of kids in Kindergarten, got to meet the staff and other teachers, and basically know the deal with how school days work. So even if things will be new and different with each changing grade – the ground level familiarity has been established, and by our accounts, that is hugely comforting for kids.

Honestly, nothing has made me happier than seeing Gavin get visibly excited to go to “Meet the Teacher” night last week and then literally counting the minutes until he could board the bus on Tuesday. (Lesson learned last year: parent drop off doesn’t work for him. It just gives him more time to work up some nerves and freak himself out. Throwing him to the wolves – I mean other kids (haha) – is the best strategy for his personality.)

Similarly, from a parent perspective, we felt pretty much clueless when Kindergarten started. You might as well have stuck me in the middle of the Pacific Ocean on a sailboat and told me I had to navigate my way home. (No, I don’t sail. And I haven’t been on a boat in the ocean since I was in my teens. That’s how clueless I felt.) Quite frankly, the school district and school-level communications are pretty much non-existent or extremely late, so by the time you get the official word (if at all!), you’ve already resorted to quizzing your neighbors or other parents so intensely that you can practically see the “Freak show!” thought bubble form above their heads.

When Kindergarten started, it felt like I was kinda sending Gavin off into the unknown and crossing my fingers that everything would come together in the first few days. I remember thinking how calm the moms of older kids seemed about everything and I tried to play it cool, but I was freaking out inside because I felt like I didn’t personally have an understanding of what was going on. Simple things like – does he pack a lunch? an afternoon snack? if I drop him off, can I walk him to class? etc., etc. We found that once the teachers themselves come into the picture, communications improve and we felt more confident about what each week holds and so on. Heading into First Grade, we, too, feel more prepared and know what to expect since we’ve been to this rodeo before. Experience creates wisdom.

Overall, it’s been a great week for the big guy. He’s happily back into a routine (THANK GOODNESS!), has started Fall sports and has already finished his first chapter book. (Whoever decided putting “underpants” into the title of a series of kids’ books is a genius. Gavin read one of those books in two days. It was 176 pages. Sure, there were illustrations, but that is a lot of reading for a new First Grader. Genius idea. A superhero named underpants. Instant draw for young boys (and probably girls!)

So now we gear up for the big one: Grace starts Kindergarten on Monday. (Yea, not this week. They told us two weeks ago that Kinders started the week after the rest of the school. That was totally awesome because she finished pre-school a week and a half ago, so plenty of notice for working parents to come up with a plan B. Ugh. So annoying. I will never understand how they can tell me what school supplies she will need in JUNE but cannot tell me that she starts school on September 9 until late August. Ridic.)

She’s VERY excited about Kindergarten when she’s at home and thinking about it. She’s been talking incessantly about everything she’s going to learn and do and play and …etc. However, at “Meet the Teacher” night, we had to coerce her into the classroom. At her assessment this week, her teacher had to pry her off my leg. Yay. That’s always my favorite. She left holding the teacher’s hand and grinning ear-to-ear, so part of me questions whether she’s just playing me for a fool. It’s a strong possibility. She’s a real peach that way. So, Monday it is. We’re looking forward to seeing how that goes, particularly because we’ll be dropping her off in her classroom for the first day vs. sending her on the bus. (Stay tuned – I am sure I’ll have good stories on that day – haha!)

If you’re interested in re-living my heart attacks about Gavin going to Kindergarten, I’ve compiled the links below. Enjoy! 😉

• The Start of Kindergarten
• First Day of Kindergarten a.k.a. We Survived Drop Off
• First Day of Kindergarten – He’s Home!
• Sent My Heart on a Bus Today
• Lessons from Kindergarten