Being A Mom to a Teenage Daughter.....

The relationship I have with my daughter is very special.  It's not because she and I say to each other or anyone else out there that we are each other's best friends.  Neither of us think that we need to be each other's best friends.  We need each other be just who we are.. mom and daughter.    She has other adult friends and friends her age she can talk to, and I made sure of that.  I have friends my own age, and that is the way it should be (in our world).  Today, while running around we talked about our relationship and how grateful we are that we have what we have.  Grateful that I'm not the helicopter parent that has to be with her all the time or hover over her to make sure she makes the decisions I think she needs to make.  The reality is, at her age, she needs to make her own choices and live with the consequences.  She knows she can come to us to ask for help if she needs it, but other than that, she can make her own choices and decisions (most of the time they are good choices).

We don't always see eye to eye, but we love each other regardless.    Sometimes it's painful to watch her learn her lessons.  But it's what she needs in order to be a successful adult.  Cutting the apron strings is not always easy, especially with everything she has been through.  But cutting those strings is imperative for her to grow and be independent.  For example, leaving one belly dance company where we BOTH danced together and letting her go her own way without me because that is what is best for her dance "career".  I have been encouraging her to make the step for a while, but she was not ready to let go.. of us dancing together or her sisters in our other company.  But eventually, she realized that if she was going to grow as a dancer, she needed to make the change.  And I am proud of her for making that tough decision that put her in a situation where she was not entirely comfortable.  Now that she has made that decision and is a few days from her first performance with this group, she is very happy with her decision.  She has already grown leaps and bounds as a dancer.  So proud of her!  This summer has been a summer of big decisions for her and those included not just changing belly dance companies but also letting go of voice lessons and a few other things to make room for new things.  She had to consider time as well as money spent.  I am proud of her choices and her strength.

With all of that said, I am more proud of the kind of of relationship we have.  We have had several very important conversations in the last couple of years as she comes into her own strength as a young woman.  These conversations included her sexual identity, whether or not to have sex or when she is ready to have sex, birth control and all sorts of things.  Of course before any of that happened, this conversation started from when she was little tiny.  I have always been very open about what being a woman means and comes with.  I have always been open about sexuality with her.  I wanted to make sure that door was open so she would feel safe to walk through it when the time was right.  And it worked.  Time and time again, she has walked through that door and has come to me with questions or concerns.  She doesn't ALWAYS come  to me.  Sometimes she goes to other trusted adults.  Sometimes she goes to friends.  But she has come to me so many times and knows there is no judgment there...just love and help and positive guidance.

Today it hit me as very surreal.  She was having some female issues that required a doctor's visit.  Everything is fine.  But before they called her back, I asked her if she wanted me to go in the room with her or if she wanted to go alone.  It is, after all, her body (not mine).  Since it was someone she didn't know, she asked me to go with her.  While I was in the room with her, the PA asked her some very personal questions (which I already knew the answers to), and Omi was able to answer them without me blinking an eye..without worry of judgment.

As we drove home, it hit me how special our relationship is.  I am so grateful that I have managed to foster this kind of relationship with my daughter.  It is so different than what I had with my own mom.  I remember having worries about my female health and being scared as I went to the doctors alone.  But Naomi was comfortable coming to me and allowed me there in her space and wanted me there.  That is special.  And I am grateful.  

I'm certainly not a perfect parent.  Though I am grateful I have done at least one thing right :).

July 25, 2016 The Great Canadian Adventure!

We are home from our family vacation.. "The Great Canadian Adventure"!  What a trip it was!  It was a whirlwind trip of sight seeing, driving, sailing, hiking, lots of walking around and some fun adventures in food.

There were quite a few observations made on this trip.  The first of which, we never thought going to Canada would require a different language.  Okay, Yes, we know French is spoken and is one of their official national languages, but that wasn't the issue.  They were speaking English, but it was different.  They used different words for things than we do.  I guess we weren't prepared for that.  For example, what we call a parking garage, they call a Parkade.  They also have different names for parking meters; Tracy had fun trying to figure that one out with the front desk clerk at our hotel.  Between the two of them, they got on the same page, but wowzers!  Another common phrase heard in Victoria, BC, was "Fer Sure".  I spelt it that was on purpose.  I'm sure it was suppose to be "For Sure" but it was pronounced like "Fer Sure".  It was all over the place to acknowledge they understood what you said.  Like when we placed an order for something, the waitress would respond with "Fer Sure".    There was another phrase that has left my memory, but it was fun to hear things differently.

Another observation, their soda bottles and soda cans were smaller.  Yes, America, we DO over indulge in EVERYTHING, and that is  made quite certain when we travel to other countries who are not as fat as we are.  

The two cities we were in, Victoria and Vancouver were very "cyclist friendly".  When I say that, i don't mean I think its all that safe.  I mean there are tons of cars EVERYWHERE!!!!  But there are paths for the bikes.  There are designated lanes in most places.  They are painted green with green turning boxes for cyclists (like they tried to do here in Boise and it failed).  They even had curved off bike lanes where they turned a formerly 2 lane, 2 way street into a 1 lane 1 one street with a curbed off cycling lane.  I'm pretty certain, people here in Boise would scream like none other if that happened here.  Oh ya.. and the country of Canada MAKES you wear a cycling helmet; if you get caught without one is $150 a pop. Nice little law there.

Fireworks:  Canada takes theirs seriously.  In America, we like our fire works; however, we tend to just shoot things off then see how many we can explode at one time.  Even if its set to music, it is not very artistic.    We watched the fireworks at the Gardens in Victoria, and they were beautiful.  They were artistic.  They didn't just send off mortars in the sky for the "ooh ahh factor".    They had spinny things on the ground.  It was just fabulous.  And in the summer, Vancouver has a 3 day competition between 3 different countries.  They set off fireworks from a barge off of Stanley Park.  (we missed that.)  But they take their fireworks seriously!

What I noticed is that Canadians ENJOY life.   Maybe that is why they always seem so nice.  In Vancouver, THOUSANDS flock to the park at sunset.  In America, people may go to the park, but not like this.  Thousands were out there and none of them had their cell phones out.  Okay, maybe a few were talking on the phone.  And yes, I'm certain a good number of people were tourists where there cell service wouldn't work in Canada.  But you could tell most of the people were from town, and they didn't have their cell phones out.  They were out there having picnics with their friends and dancing to music they brought to the beach.  They were laughing.  They were playing games.  They were tight band walking between trees.  They were just watching the sun set.  This happened EVERY night.. not just special nights.. but EVERY night.  The police in both Victoria and Vancouver were awesome.  So many people... so  many different races and cultures.. and so peaceful.  At one point there was an incident in Beacon Hill Park in Victoria where hundreds were out playing Pokemon or otherwise enjoying the park and there were at least 10 police cars.  In America, they police would be swamped by curious on lookers.  But in Canada, they just stayed away and let the police handle the situation, which was some "idiot" (as the officer called him) with a pellet gun.  In American, that would be grounds for a whole bunch of craziness.  In Canada, it was taken care of quickly and quietly, and the officers were very friendly when it was over with and joked around with us.

We made a trip to Whistler to go zip lining.  That was tons of fun.  We had 2 guides; one from Ontario Canada and the other from Australia.  I spent some time talking with both of these amazing young women.  And both were asking me what the heck was going on in America.  Why were we having such a difficult time.  It's obvious to other countries that our country is not safe and is seriously struggling.    And it's obvious as an American traveling (even to Canada) that other countries can live peacefully... so why can't we?  I realize I only had a small glimpse of Canada, but still.  I also realize that not all countries are peaceful, but for a first world Nation, we should be peaceful!

It was fun to expose the kids to a different country.  Even if they speak English and its almost like being in America.  But with the differences we did experience, the kids took notice.  And it was fun to expose them to that.

As Americans, we are lazy.  We drive everywhere.   We are stuck to our phones like our lives depended on it.  We spend very little time being present in the moment.  We do not stop to enjoy the simple things in life, life a piece of chocolate cake on a ferry boat.  The American Ferry Boats see it as a means to an end.  A BC ferry boat sees it as a time to relax and enjoy life with good food food and maybe even some booze; they saw it as a time to get outside on the deck and learn something about the seas you were traveling in.  It wasn't a means to an end; it was something to be enjoyed.

Our last night in Vancouver, we went to our favorite Italian place for dinner.  Even there, dinner was meant to be enjoyed and to be decadent and they almost served Omi wine (again).  They tried when she was 15 too.  *laugh*.   This time though we told Omi she could have some, but by that time she had already told the guy she wasn't old enough.  Anyway, at dinner, Nate asked us, "Are you proud to be American?"  He had notice the crazy sense of pride that the Canadians seemed to express.   I'm not sure "proud" is the right word.  I'm more embarrassed right now.  When countries have to send out warnings about traveling to our country, there is something seriously wrong.  When civil rights seems to be less important every day, there is something wrong with this country.  When citizens are fighting with the people in blue who's job it is to protect us, there is something wrong.  When the people in blue who are suppose to protect us kill innocent black people, there is something wrong.  Our politics are stupid and I seriously fear for our country.    Guns are out of control in our country, but I don't know what the answer is.  So am I proud to be an American?  I don't think proud is the correct word.  Am I grateful that I live in a country where I have as many freedoms and opportunities as I do, yes.  Could it be better, hell yes!    And I am also aware that as tourist for a few days, we can not truly judge a country accurately.  But I will say, that Canada is pretty incredible and it is close to stealing our hearts from Belize.  I could totally become an ex-pat and be okay with that :).

As a family vacation goes, it was fun.  We did tons of sight seeing, and we did something for everyone.  Tracy got to go sailing for 3 hours (well we all did, but it was really for Tracy).  He and Nate got to help with the sails on the boat.  Tracy actually got to steer the boat when it was needed.  We made the trips to Mt Hoot and Whistler for Nate where we got to alpine slide and zip line.  When it came to Zip Lining in Whistler, I really thought Omi would sit down at the top and refuse to move, but she did fantastic and showed no fear!!!!  She even went upside down and did some silks poses while zipping down.  The floating stairs that we had to walk down before we were weightless, scared the crap out of me.  They were almost enough to have me sitting down and refusing to move.  I did see one mom actually refuse to go down a line and they had a van meet her at the bottom and take her down the rest of the way.  I'm so glad my whole family made it through together!  Omi got to go to the Science Museum she has wanted to go to for years.  I got to walk across the suspension bridge and do some hiking and go to the gardens and see fireworks and go to the castle.  Mostly, I got to watch Nate and Omi just play together and have fun.  We got to spend some amazing quality time together as a family doing things we have never done before as a family.  It was amazing.  At the end of it all, we got to visit with Todd and Angie, and the kids and I got to take the kayaks out for a paddle.

We had a wonderful time with lots of laughter.  There were also tears and arguments.  You can't spend 10 days together all in one car or one room and not get into a couple of tiffs.  And Yes, I missed Nick.  But Nick started showing up in Victoria during the Ghostly Walk.  We were in an alley way as our guide was telling us some story about some ghost.  When the light started to flicker.  The guide made no mention of it and took no notice.  But our family knew exactly what was going on.  It was Nick.  Then once we made it to Vancouver, Nick made his presence known once a day.  First it was the rubber duckies in the window of an eye glass place (that we walked by almost daily).  Then it was the Little Mermaid movie being played at the movie in the park.  Then it was the rubber ducky in the science museum.  Then it was in a song being played (the first time I had heard it the whole vacation) in a store when we walked in.  Even when we made it back to Washington to visit with Angie and Todd, there was an inflatable rubber ducky on a roof of some building; Angie saw it first and pointed it out.  He was there with us the whole time.  It was nice.

Now we are home from vacation and the rat race starts again.  This week, mom has a procedure I need to take her to.  Omi (and I) have to get our hair done before school starts.  Omi performs this weekend at Fusion Fest.  She also starts Band Camp next Monday....and that stays in affect all the way through football season.. so, this week is Omi's last week of summer vacation from school.  Tracy is already back at work.  I have tons of yard work to catch up on.  I have cleaning to get done...and tons of laundry.

I'm grateful for the time we got to spend with our kids.  I'm grateful for Tracy's hard work that allows us to get to take those vacations....oh and one more thing..... you would think that after being locked up with us for 10 days, our kid would be tired of us.  Nope.  Last night, when we got home, Tracy and I went outside to our bar to have a drink, and Nate came out and asked if he could join us.  There was a sense that none of us wanted life to go back to the crazy rat race. We just wanted to continue to spend more time together.  I love my family.

July 10, 2016 Black Lives Matter

I will be perfectly honest with you.  I have been struggling with the difference between "All Lives Matter" and "Black Lives Matter".  It is not because I don't think black lives matter or because I think white people are more important or Police or more important.  It is seriously because it was a puzzle that my brain had a very hard time wrapping around. It was like some one was speaking a completely different language to me.  I WANTED to understand.  I NEEDED to understand.

My heart has been so heavy.  My brain has been so confused.  As a white person in a very white state, I feel a bit removed from the situation.  I also feel very helpless.  I was not sure what *I* could do that would make any difference.  Everything that I tried to say on Facebook just came out wrong.  My friends (who are civil rights activists) were pretty much calling me a racist (or at least it felt that way).  But that is not what is in  my heart. And no matter how much I tried to explain myself, I think I just kept digging my hole bigger.  It was frustrating. Finally I just removed the post all together.  I felt like it was only breeding more animosity between my friends, and that is not what I want.

What I want is peace. What I want is love.  What I want is for the killing to stop!  I want change, but I do not know how to affect change.  The only way I know how to affect change is to BE the change I wish to see.  That is how I have always lived my life.. BE THE LOVE.  But is that enough at this point?  I don't know.  Like I said, I feel helpless.  And I have been having a difficult time understanding. I have been reading my friend's posts.  I have been listening to what they have been saying.  But my brain just wasn't getting it.  I felt like a kid in math class where all of the other students were getting this crazy math equation and I was sitting in the back of the class just shaking my head and feeling stupid.

I have been wracking my brain.  And I have been meditating.  And then tonight as I wrapped up my prayers and meditation, this visual came into my head and literally all of the pieces came together.  Not just the pieces.....but a story came with it.  People learn best by stories...this is why children are told stories at such young ages.  This is why the Grim Tales were created.  This is why mythology was created.  Stories help us learn.  And my brain, in its state of brain damage, definitely needs a story to understand.  And this is what it was given tonight:

"The Missing Piece To the Puzzle" by Martha Spiva

Stephanie and her mom, Laura, were sitting at the table putting a puzzle together.  In the background, the news was running on the television.  The news anchor mentioned Black Lives Matter and All Lives Matter. 

Laura wasn’t paying much attention to the background noise of the talking heads on the TV, but as young people do, they listen when you least expect them to.  Stephanie stopped what she was doing.  She rolled the puzzle piece in her hand and stared off into space like she was concentrating hard on a concept that she just couldn’t understand.

Laura noticed that Stephanie had stopped placing pieces of the puzzle together and she looked up.  She saw this pensive look on her young daughter’s face.  Suddenly she looked so much more mature than her 11 years of age.  “Stephanie, what is the matter?  Are you okay?  Do you need help putting the pieces of the puzzle together?”

Stephanie looked at her mom.  Indeed, she did need pieces of the puzzle put together, but it wasn’t the puzzle on the table she was thinking about.  “Mom, what does Black Lives Matter and All Lives Matter mean?  What is the news lady saying?”

Laura looked at the puzzled look on her daughter’s face.  She looked at the television and saw angry and heart broken black people on the TV.  She saw scenes of police being shot.  She saw what her daughter was seeing.  It was too much for even her to truly understand, but how was she going to explain it to her 11-year-old daughter?

Laura rolled the piece of puzzle she was holding in her hand.  She felt its smooth face with the picture on top.  She felt the rougher backside.  She felt the twists and turns of the side.  She blankly stared at the piece in her hand and the whole puzzle on the table.  She looked at the other pieces just lying there waiting to be placed into the puzzle to create the bigger, more complete picture.  And it dawned on her.

“Sweetie, humanity is like this puzzle on our table.  It takes all of these pieces on the table to create one big picture and make it whole.”  She continued to place pieces of the puzzle together.   

“Each one of these pieces matter.  If just one of these pieces goes missing, then the whole puzzle is incomplete and just a waste.  And just like this puzzle, humanity needs all of its pieces, all of its cultures, all of its people.  Yes, all lives matter.  With out all of the different kinds of people in this world, humanity and our human experience would be incomplete.  However, to understand and to differentiate between what “All Lives Matter” and “Black Lives Matter” truly means, we need to think about this puzzle.”

What would happen, if we got all but ONE piece of this puzzle put together?  What would happen if we get to the very last piece and all of a sudden it is missing? Suddenly, what matters most in that moment is that last missing piece of the puzzle.  You stop and do everything you can to find it and put it in its rightful place so that there is peace in your puzzle world and you can relax and enjoy the full picture.  Right?”

“Well that is what “All Lives Matter” and “Black Lives Matter” is like.  Yes, all lives matter.  But when one section of humanity is missing, when one section of humanity is being singled out and hurt, you want to do the very best you can to help that section of humanity heal, feel better, and become whole and one with the rest of humanity so that the whole of humanity will be complete and at peace.” 

“So yes, “All Lives Matter” but right now, “Black Lives Matter” because they are in danger and we need to help them.  Does that make sense?”

Stephanie, who had been continuing to put the pieces to her literal puzzle together, stopped and watched as her mother put the 2^nd to last piece of the puzzle together.  In Stephanie’s small hand, she held the last piece of the puzzle that would complete the whole picture.  She rolled it around in her hand as she thought about what her mom had just told her.  She held it tight in her hand.  She closed her eyes, placed her hand close to her heart and said, “This last piece matters.  There will be no peace until all pieces are unified and safely put together again.  As I place this last piece in the puzzle, I do so knowing that Black Lives Matter and until everyone realizes that, there will be no peace.”

I really hope that made sense.  I really hope I got that right.  Love and Peace!