Radiant

I am so thankful that my family is giving me the time and space to attend a weekend long workshop to learn the Radiant Child Yoga Program. I have taken yoga for more than 20 years, but have studied mostly Hatha and Iyengar schools, and only touched briefly on Kundalini Yoga. Kundalini yoga is filled with movement and vibrant energy, and is perfect for children, especially the wiggly ones! Shakta Kaur Khalsa, who is teaching the class, has written stories to go along with the yoga movements, and they so wonderfully turn yoga class into a directed playtime that has physical and psychological benefits for the kids.

I am also experiencing the benefit of a new kind of yoga. As always, yoga opens up the mind, stretches and strengthens the body, and brings a sense of joy. I hope to share this feeling in children's yoga classes soon!

Mommy Blues, Mommy Joy

It was hard to let Daniel go off to Boston this weekend, even though he was with his dad. I knew there would be time where the kids would be buddying up and off exploring. That's not anything new for him; he's done that on other field trips in the past -- before diabetes. Before celiac.

These teenage/high school years are tough on parents in so many ways. It is natural for our children to learn to care for themselves, and to break through the boundaries of comfort into a new, risky world. It is right for them to do this, to push away, to cause the little arguments that separate from the nest.

Really, it was only a couple of years ago that I did the same thing. No one kicked harder, screamed more, and fought against parental authority than I did. So I remember. I *know*.

Now I'm getting it back, aren't I? Not that Daniel is mean and nasty like I was; quite the contrary. We are so blessed to have an excellent relationship with him, an open, caring, communicative connection. I think that some of that is a by product of the diabetes diagnosis within the last year. We've had to rely on each other in a new, raw way that only served to strengthen our parent-child bond. I feel his needs now with the same intensity I felt when he was a newborn, the kind that mellows as children grow older and more independent. Fighting this disease brings out that early, ferocious motherlove. At the same time I see Daniel starting to slip through these bonds. Part of him holds on, I know, because he is learning a new way of life, and is thankful for the love and support Matt and I give him. But part of him is breaking away, as he should.

It's heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time to watch your child transform into an adult. You see it physically first, his arm and leg bones lengthening; his head changing shape, giving him a more focused, less wide-eyed look. Then there is a change in attitude. He's helping without asking, opening doors & carrying packages. He's discussing world events. He sees outside the bubble of his inner world. He connects with people who have sympathetic views of the world. He speaks easily with both younger kids and adults. He is thinking of who and what he will become. Yet he is still forgetful, leaving blood testing strips staining the kitchen table, and assignments for school sitting on the printer. He growls at his younger brother for touching his stuff. He is caught in between one age and the next.

So often we get wrapped up in our day to day routine. Get to school, get to work, pay the bills, worry about tomorrow. Spring break ends tonight, and the wheels will start spinning faster. I guess I just wanted to take a snapshot of this moment, before Daniel leaves childhood entirely, to appreciate him for his successes and his faults, for his bravery and his retreat. I hope I can let go gracefully, so that he will come back, fully grown, on his own to reconnect with his parents on a different, more complex level. Always in love, always in beauty.

Growing Up

Children are the most precious gifts we get in life, and they are also the creatures that test us to our most extreme limits. This unique dichotomy, the stretch between extreme love and intense frustration helps us grow in intelligence and spirituality in ways we never believed possible. One of the milestones of this journey of learning, the pain and joy, happens during the teenage years as these little individuals, so attached and dependent, morph into hairy, voice-altered, oddly-styled humans who stand on their own two legs, which may be clothed in hiking boots or sequined shoes depending on the model you happen to have.

There are moments of maturity that catch me by surprise. There was the time I came home from the grocery store and Daniel got up from the table to help bring in the bags from the car. Unprompted.

There was the time that Nora knew I was exhausted from getting up in the middle of the night to check Daniel's blood sugar, and she cleaned the kitchen while I snoozed.

There was that moment that Daniel held a syringe to his abdomen for the first time, and his dad and I said, "just do it quickly, don't think about it" and he said, "wait... I'm almost ready." A few minutes later, he was ready. And he never looked back.

Nora is 85% tomboy; she wears t-shirts and sweat pants and plays football as well as the guys, but the t-shirts may have rainbows on them and they will probably match the pants. She cuts her hair short, but keeps sparkly studs in her pierced ears. She prefers comfortable shoes to the pointy toed ones that her friends wear, but it takes her HOURS to shop for something perfect. And all this leads up to...

I bought her an outfit to wear to the theater because her class was going on a field trip and they had to dress appropriately. At first Nora railed against the fact that she couldn't wear jeans because they were, in her opinion, NOT casual. They looked nice. But I found a swirly-patterned red/black/white top with some black velveteen pants. Colors bright and bold, just like her personality. She tried them on and my tomboy disappeared. A young woman, the person she is changing into, stepped in front of me and took my breath away.

I experienced this weird, magical moment where I could see her crawling on the floor, banging on tupperware, and at the same time, waving goodbye in a new suit on her way to work. My eyes teared up and my heart hiccuped. Two of my three children are accelerating their process of becoming.

I really do try to let go, to let it happen. To let time flow over me easily. Sometimes I get in the car and turn on the radio, and the Talking Heads are followed by the Go Gos and I feel like I'm that person I was in the 80's on my way to a party, even though the vehicle carrying me is a minivan. Then I come back to myself, and laugh as I realize that my kids are in the back and singing with me. They know all the words, just as I did, just as I taught them.

I do everything I can, as a parent, to give my children the tools they need to live their own lives. At the same time I can hardly bear to let them go.

Thankful Day

Thanksgiving started out warm & sunny, as if I awoke to find my fantasy had come true and we were suddenly living in Hawaii. While I chopped & basted, husband and children organized & cleaned house. Then they went out on a walk in the sun and came back apple-cheeked & sweaty.

Then the wind blew.

We have a couple of large willow oak trees in the back yard. They are beautiful, and they are a pain. The leaves are about four inches long, about the width of your finger, and pointy on each end. Not your typical oak leaf! The acorns are tiny, perhaps the size of the tip of your thumb. The leaves and acorns defy raking. They cling to the lawn with their sharp tips when you try to blow them away. It's better to let them sit on the lawn until spring... which is one of the reasons the grass doesn't grow so well in my back yard.

In mid afternoon a weather front whistled through, bringing a scattering of rain and a mighty explosion of wind. The leaves sailed off the oak tree and headed for my neighbors yard (GO! GO! FLY!!!). The sky was awesome, with dark purple gray clouds as a backdrop for the bright colors of autumn trees, which were lit up by the long rays of sun reaching out from the far side of the weather front.

Nora and Dominic saw the leaves flying. Suddenly there was nothing more wonderful, no game more delicious, no video more interesting than the great wide world. They ran around the front yard trying to catch leaves, stuff them in their pockets, and compare treasures. They opened their arms to embrace the wind, as if they had wings and were ready to soar into the sky.

A change in weather can affect your mental and physical body. Some feel rain coming in their bones, or the onset of winter in the way their skin changes. A warm, sunny day seems to make everyone happy. And the burst of energy brought forth by the wind and leaves invited my children to shriek, run, and leap with joy.

The wind rolled up the street in gusts that eventually settled into a gentle sigh. The neighborhood trees, which up until yesterday had been holding tight to their leaves, as if they were waiting for our last warm day, decided to release them and send them softly on the breeze. What better way to spend the afternoon than to relax in the still-warm grass, watching the swirling patterns above, mingling your energy with the earth.