Halloween 2024

 

As part of my mental and emotional preparation around the girls getting older and individuating, I find myself at times pulling back on things that I cherished so much. Perhaps I might be preparing for the times when these activities cease. Of course I could continue to engage in things like Halloween, full force, and Cheri’s  the last years with the kids at home celebrating these holidays. But for me, that feels a little inauthentic. They are growing in individuating and I guess I am too.

And still, we all love Halloween in our family so this year while I did not go with them trick-or-treating, I cheered them on, thrilled that my two high schoolers still wanted to go dress up and knock on doors. I loved that they put together thoughtful. Amara, of course, had to be some spooky scary thing again and won a the category for scariest costume at school. She put together a costume where it look like she was being carried around by a gruesome witch. It was fantastic. Havana in all her glorious creativity, She decided to be a Sunny Angel, which is all the rage right now. They are little dolls that you attached your phone. She bought things to put together her own costume. I thought it was brilliant. I might be biased, but it was pretty awesome and original.

Of course, Tamsen joined them trick-or-treating. I can’t even count how many years they have been doing this together. It’s very sweet that they’re carrying on these traditions together and that they have these relationships with their friends.

Happy Halloween 2024!

Almost College Bound

It’s no secret that I have been struggling with my girls getting older and becoming adults. There are very few things I have felt both deeply passionate about and pulled toward so fervently. Being a parent with something that called to my soul and pulled at my heart from my late teens until, at long last, I was pregnant with Amara at age 37. Havana’s birth two years later satisfied that decades old yearning. I was beyond grateful to support those two small souls landing on earth and growing up to be good citizens on this planet.

It is no secret how much I cherish my two small gems. I have an entire blog dedicated to them. I planned my early professional life (well it’s a calling not just a profession but I won’t digress) around being able to spend as much time with them as possible. I built community around other parents, so we had a strong network of friends, play dates and support so that they thrived. I took them with me when I traveled, forcing them to be my travel buddies from the time they were just months old and now we have countless memories, both good and challenging, of our adventures. They now have a respect of an understanding of the world and it’s differences and a love of the natural world. I have made sure they had what they needed to grow into the persons they are meant to be by ensuring they were educated by teachers who taught history truthfully, that fostered community building,  that nurtured independence and agency, that was inclusive and fostered questioning, that not only spoke of but practiced social and racial justice and of course, the importance of giving back. All of this was to support them into being who they are meant to grow to be and be good people when they are adults.

I am the furthest person from perfect and that is reflected at times in my parenting. I have too many flaws to count. Yet my love for my two small gems, that can never be questioned. Even now, as I write this blog post, thousands of miles from home on a much needed reset holiday, I speak with them at least half a dozen times a day via FaceTime and texting. The communication goes both ways. I will miss them and  want to share something, so I call. They have something going on and want my input or just want to talk so they FaceTime. So while I have failed as a parent in so many ways, our bond is mighty and impenetrable and I trust I (and of course their dad) have laid enough of a strong foundation and planted enough seeds to ensure a safe, stable, healthy, spiritually balanced life as adults.

I want them to grow and branch out. And still I am not ready. I am aware I have this last year of high school for Amara to process all my feelings. I am aware that our recent trip to Oregon to visit colleges pushed my limits at times for how much I am willing and not willing to feel. I am aware that I had to step into the bathroom so I could cry silently at the reality that Amara, my little eagle, is about to take flight.

Of course, I want her to soar. I know she will do just that. Her passion for life, her curiosity, her love of community and her kindness will carry her far. I am thrilled she is going to do what she is so ready for.  Is that not what all parents have wanted since the beginning of time? To see their gems leave and blossom into their truest selves? Yes AND. And I am just not fully ready yet. 

Despite all my emotions and struggles with the individuation of Amara, I am beyond proud of her and am excited for where she ends out and what she ends up doing. The college decision has been slightly daunting on her. She is both beyond ready and understandably nervous. But mostly she is ready. She was born to explore this world and do great things and that she will do. Whether I am ready or not. No matter where I am at mentally and emotionally in a year from now, I will however, support her and be her biggest cheerleader. She is a rock star and I know that no matter how hard it will be, that millions of parents have taken this path before me and survived and so will I.

Back to School 2024~ 10th & 12th Years

Amara and Havana started their 10th & 12th years of school. I have written previously about my feelings about them growing up way too fast so I will keep this post short and simple.

Amara started the year with college on her mind and with her camera always nearby. She was excited to learn more about her craft in honors art, further her Spanish language abilities and to spend time with her friends. 

Havana is in a different space. She is still adjusting to Bentley and I think that she is settling in nicely. She too enjoys art, photography in particular, Spanish and her friend group.

By the end of the year Amara will have chosen her college. Havana will be on her way to her Junior year. It is all going so fast but overall the girls are thriving. We have challenges with some subjects but have found some tutors for those courses and they are giving it their best. Their school has high expectations for academics and while that is important, I want them to enjoy the remaining years of their childhood. Going out with friends, seeing concerts, having healthy and fun teen experiences is equally important as sitting in the classroom.

Here’s to the 2024-2025 school year.

Pacific Northwest

 

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Summer 2024 was full of travel and adventure as well as learning, growing and connecting. After Maui, where I worked (and then we got to play), the girls and I went to New York and then finally we headed North. Pacific Northwest to be exact. The family was in different spaces throughout the summer, so this would be the first travel excursion of the summer with all four us. 

I had encouraged a trip to the Pacific Northwest because after my time in Northbound Washington in late Spring, I knew the family would love it there. I also felt that the earth, sky and water there was calling me to return and visit longer. The family was on board. We flew into Seattle and then drove a couple of hours north to Port Angeles where we boarded a car ferry to Victoria, Vancouver Island. We stopped in Port Angeles, to visit our neighbor friend, who has a home there and happened to up there when we were passing through. Brigette showed us the quite town, directed us the quaint local bookstore and took us a local spot for wonderful lunch.

The 90 minute ferry across was exciting and new. We'd never taken a car ferry. On the Canada side, it was easy to enter and make our way to a hotel for the night. We would only be in Victoria for brief periods so the next morning, while the family was still asleep, I got up early and walked around a bit. I found the city to have a sweet charm about it.

From Victoria, we drove 6 hours north, to the top of the island, to Port Hardy, the end of the road. The drive, while long, was green and lush. There were very few cars, making it a relaxing and peaceful drive.  Well, peaceful on the outside. Some of us inside the car were quite grumpy at times but that is par for the course. But over the course of a long day, it went fairly well. We napped, read and were mostly quiet.

Once we got to Port Hardy, we checked into a First Nations hotel. Knowing that the hotel was built and run by those who had lived in the area for centuries brought a feeling of sadness and relief. Far too long, colonizers have taken advantage of those they abused, stolen from and left with nothing. That there was a rare business that was not part of the colonial system allowed us to feel we were walking respectfully on the land and on the waters of this part of the planet. 

We spent the next two days on the water. Two full days, in remote areas, surrounded by breathtaking views of water and land. We experienced orcas, humpbacks, seals, sea lions and grizzly bear and cubs. We saw bald eagles perched in trees and a few taking flight. We drank in the turquoise waters and filled our lungs with fresh, cool air.  We learned about the local culture, the devastating impact of fish farms and how our local guide helped to shut them down and had the spiritual experience of hearing the sounds of the humpbacks speaking when a microphone was dropped in the water and picked up their most beautiful voices.

After a  couple of days in Port Hardy, we drove back down the island and close to Victoria (well 2 hours away), checked into a cozy cabin in the woods where we rested, relaxed and visited an 800 year old Douglas Fir that lived in a magical, lush green forest. The girls and I went to a quaint nearby town to do thrifting, find a book store and walk the sweet town. When we finally headed out to go back on the Ferry, we felt refreshed and rested and grateful for a week of beautify and awe.

Little Ms. Reader

 

Havana is voracious reader. No matter where we go or what we do, she has a book in hand. She loves to read and can devour several books a week. When she is deep into a story, do not interrupt. It's not pretty! But all jokes aside, it makes me quite happy that Havana  has such a love affair with the written word.

One of the highlights of traveling with Havana is finding local bookstores. I mean, who doesn't like a local bookstore? And while I try to limit the amount of things they purchase, I do not limit books. Havana will read a pile of books and then after a time, she will sort them out into keepers and trade ins and off we will go to Half-Price books to sell them. It's a win-win.

I hope that her love affair is a life long one.

Little Ms. Photographer

Amara has fallen in love with photography and it warms my heart to see this passion growing as she develops her skill. 

I like to think some artisitic seeds were planted watching her mother with a camera her entire life. A few years ago, I got a new camera and passed on my old camera to Amara. This was about the time Amara started Bentley. Bentley has a fantastic art program, complete with a dark room. Amara started learning both digital and film photography in 9th grade and has continued to hone her skills. It warms my heart when I see her grab her camera, when she is inspired and do her thing.

 

Woodstock

 

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The girls and I made it to our final New York destination, Woodstock, after several days in the City, visiting friends and family, showing the girls my old stomping grounds and indulging our tastebuds.

Woodstock is where my spiritual teacher Bella lives, as well as my best friend Bob and several other close friends. Time on the mountain, relaxing, being in each other's presence, breaking bread and taking in all that good energy was a main motivator for returning to New York with my two small gems.

We were still in the tail end of a hurricane, so we had glorious down pouring of rain and strong, warm winds, forcing us to make mindful plans throughout our days. A trip to the bookstore? Let's wait until the rain lets up just a bit. Want to go for a hike? Well, there is torrential rain outside so let's stay in bed and read after we sit at the table and have lunch. Our friend Robyn, she is coming up isn't she? No, she has to wait a day as it's not safe. Okay, let's just hang out here. 

Those several days of on-going in the moment moments made for sweet down time. We did get to take some walks through town. Some friends got to come visit, while others could not. We got to go to dinner one night at the Chinese buffet, where we sat for hours, eating, sharing stories and telling jokes. It was all just so perfect. The girls know the names of the important people in my life. They even have some relationships but like with our cousins, it had been some time. To be in person, to share moments in the moment, connecting and being together, it allowed the girls (who are at an age where they can appreciate and sustain connection) to get to know my tribe better and to start to expand their own relationships with some of the people who mean so much to me.

Because of the weather, the girls and I ended up spending a lot of time as well. We slept in the same room, had lunch on our own, finally made it to a book store in Saugerties, where we also wandered a bit in and out of stores, while avoiding the rain.  It all felt so relaxed and perfect. Time in a place I love so much. It was ironic, being just an hour or so from where I grew up but never really felt at home. Yet just a short drive North, to the sacred mountain, where some of our tribe lives, that felt like home. The girls both commented how peaceful it was in Woodstock, how they could live there and how much they enjoyed their time. 

I was grateful that the girls got to spend time with Bella. She is getting older and it is showing. To have them be with her while she is still independent and able to share her warm heart and wisdom, that was incredibly important to me.

When the time came to pack the car and drive down the mountain, I felt sad. I am not sure how long that space will remain a place to go and restore but at least the memories have been made and the energy and love cemented within us.

Returning to Rockland (Visiting my Childhood Home)

 

I last took the girls to the town I grew up in when they were 6 & 8. They did not remember. I asked them prior to our heading to New York if they wanted to visit New City again. "Sure." I thought they might be appeasing me but the truth was I wanted to show them. I wanted them to see more of who their mother was and where she came from. 

We left cousin Laneys early in the morning. It would be a long day heading up Wooodstock, with stops in New City and other places along the way. It was still raining but I relished the weather. We do not get rain in California in the summer. And the rain on the East Coast is different. It is heavier, there is thunder and lightning, there can be warm winds. All the things I love about East Coast rainstorms. I don't even mind driving in it.

Our first stop was Rockland Bakery.  I needed to bring bread to my spiritual teacher/mom Bella but I also knew the girls would be in carb heaven. I think the girls thought bakery like, cupcakes and cookies, which Rockland Bakery has, but when we went into the bread room, they were like "Oh my!"  The scents of fresh bread were so intoxicating and a bit overwhelming! They were allowed to each pick a loaf.  Amara, of course got the whole grain loaf. Havana, she got the round raisin Challah. It was hard to decide though!  We ended up with more than we needed but hey! (and we ended up freezing a couple of loaves to take home so we got to enjoy Rockland Bakery weeks after we got back to Cali.)

Our next destination was to drive my my junior high school, Felix Fester. I explained how the large school had wings and how depending on where you lived decided what wing you went to. I was C wing. The school looked older and a bit worn but then it has been 40 years.  We then headed towards my old house. We stopped by New City Jewish Center, first, which just up the street. I explained to the girls that it was important to live close to the schul because driving was restricted on the Sabbath and High Holidays. I reminded them I spend several days a week in Hebrew school, for a few years prior to my Bat Mitzvah. I appreciated the questions they had. Seeing NCJC brought back some sweet memories and it has changed as well over the years. I was happy to see it had expanded, representing the on-going need to serve our Jewish community in New City.

Next stop as Alan Drive. where I lived from 7 years until 18 and then again in my late 20's for a couple of years. It is always bittersweet seeing my childhood home. We were the first family to live in that house. My dad had it built when were were still living in Brooklyn. For a guy who grew up as poor as he did, moving to New City, to a brand new home, was the stuff of dreams. My dad worked hard to make his dream come true and I have made sure the girls know his history well.

 I was taken aback how beautiful the house, yard and street were. Everything was green and with space to breathe and play; quite the contrast to dry California, with million dollar homes that have no yards and space. The girls asked which was my room (upstairs second on the left until high school and then downstairs on the right). They asked if I snuck out at night. I couldn't lie. I think they were joking when they asked and were quite surprised when I told them yes, I did sometimes sneak out to meet my friends (and that I would kill them if they did the same thing!)

From there we swung by my Elementary and High School. New City Elementary is just a few blocks from where I grew up but as a kid, when we were knee deep in brutal winters, the walk seemed much further. I explained to the girls how we had to put our feet in plastic  bags and then put on our boots. Once we got to school, we changed our shoes, leaving our boots and jackets to dry off in cubbies, only to do it all over again to walk back home. I loved my elementary school and teachers and my friends. It was a warm feeling seeing the school again.

By the time I got to Clarkstown North High School, I did not feel the same about school. The girls are aware that I struggled with learning differences that were diagnosed in junior high school (by a therapist named Patty, who tested me and later became my mentor. It was Patty who planted the seeds of being a therapist myself one day.) I also started using drugs and drinking and well, I was a bit of a wild child. There are things that happened in high school that I  later spent years making amends for and I also gave a lot of time and energy to healing post high school. High School for me was a party. I did not engage in clubs, sports, student government. Cheerleading, school spirit, fuck no. I wore Timberland boots (this is way before Hip Hop stole the style), a denim jacket and jeans and listened to Heavy Metal and Rock n Roll. Iron Maiden, Ozzy, Black Sabbath and Judas Priest played in my walkman (remember those) or on my boom box. I hung out with the stoners behind the school and often missed class. To say I am beyond relieved I have two small square gems, is an understatement. I am deeply grateful the girls, while unique in their styles, are nothing like I was. I have been honest with them in recent years about the choices I made; how I struggled and how my home environments lack of support played a role in my high school years. I want them to know that there are different paths for people, that people can learn and grow and transform.

Amara and Havana know that during High School, I went to college prep school for 6 months to get my act together. It was there that the math teacher took a bunch of us on field trip to see the Grateful Dead. Well, the rest is history and when I returned back to North for my senior year, it was with tie dye t-shirts, peace sign necklaces and moccasins on my feet. I still loved Ozzy and Iron Maiden but the Dead and its community, that felt like home. I never felt like I fit into New City and its mainstream conformist ways. Being a free sprit, going on protests for women's rights and to push back about Apartheid was who I was. That has not changed to this day and I was glad to show the girls the physical space where so much of me was defined and where so many seeds were planted.

When we were done with New City, I felt a bit of relief. As we drove down Main Street, I realized that the sadness I normally feel when I return there was missing.  Being with my two gems, with my daughters, reminded me that I have created a family where I do not eel alone and outcast. Having them with me, in a  place I felt so different, so alone, so out of sorts that I numbed myself with drugs and alcohol for a long time, was as they say in the therapy world, emotionally corrective.  When I drove way I thought I may never need to go to New City again.

Once we left New City, we made one last stop in Rockland County; Monsey, which is home to a large Hasidic community. I love to go to there to the Kosher Supermarket and stock up on things we can eat. There is a great falafel and pizza place and of course Amazing Savings! We did our shopping, took our food to go and I answered a boat load of questions about the Hasidic way of life. Havana summed up the area pretty quickly; "It's a cult", she said. We had a long discussion then about the holocaust and the ultra religious Jew's fears of history repeating itself as being the motivation to be so observant. I explained to them that they felt if they did everything so strictly it was the way Hashem (God) wants and then they would not suffer again. We took this conversation further to talk about Divine Order, fear and freedom.

As we turned up towards the New York State thruway to finally make our way to Woodstock, I realized that I was very blessed; I have been charged with raising these two souls; guiding them as they find their way towards their own destiny. Having these deep, honest conversations, sharing my truth, my history, raising them with more Universal beliefs and Spirituality versus mad made religions, I think this is what has supported them in not them repeating the self-destruction on my teen years. I have told them that all that I went through had a purpose and led me to where I am today but still I am grateful they have a different path to follow.

Returning to Rockland that morning was joyful, reflective, fun, sad and meaningful. I hope that my sharing where I came from and who I am will help my two small gems not only better understand their parent but better understand themselves as well.