dearest daughters

Separation and Snow

Dearest Daughters,

I have separation anxiety.

Not from you so much (ha!), but from my own parents.

This is something that my ex-therapist readily and frequently pointed out to me. This is also one of the reasons she is my ex-therapist.

The thing is: I'm okay with the way I was raised, with the Filipino influenced culture I come from, with my dependence (and interdependence) on my parents and other family members. I recognize it as a true and rare gift how close I am to my parents, emotionally and physically.

It is true: I live literally around the corner from Lola and Lolopop. And even when I lived fifteen minutes away, it's a rare thing to go more than two days without seeing one or the other of my parents.

It's also true: that I went to college on the other side of the country (and was the only of my siblings to do so). And during my first year of college I came home every other month, perhaps worsening the homesickness, but it's also the only way I made it through.

By Western standards (or so I hear from the aforementioned therapist) I never developmentally separated from my parents, I am too dependent on them, I never left the proverbial nest and, supposedly, this affects my ability to function.

I will own up to the fact that I am more anxious when I do things on my own, or take trips with only my "own" nuclear family. I will accept that I have experienced separation anxiety. And that I need to work on trusting myself more.

But, I wouldn't have it any other way. I wouldn't go back and do anything differently.

I don't believe that my emotional or physical proximity or my dependence interfere with the life that I am meant to live. Those things enrich my life and your lives too.

If I have the option of bringing Lola with me to help me explore Paris with a four month old and two year old, why would I not?

If I'm having a crappy day and can drag myself and two children around the corner to an already-made dinner and the sanctuary of Lola's TV-playroom, why would I not?

If you girls can spend even a minute of your day with your Lola and Lolopop, why would I deprive you (or them) of that time?

For sure, when my parents die, I'll have some serious shit to deal with. But, until then, I'll spend as much time with my parents as I can. I'll make them dinner. I'll get manicures with Lola and run errands with Lolopop. I'll allow them to provide as much support as they want in raising my Dearest Daughters.

Maybe I'm more sensitive than the average person, maybe I'm weaker?

Or maybe I'm just lucky?

[Setting an entire childhood aside--that's too obvious] I wouldn't have survived college, this past year or our recent trip to the snow without Lola and Lolopop. (And, pup pup Lapu!)

Dear Lord, help me when and if my Dearest Daughters leave my side! That's a whole 'nother separation anxiety ball game!

Love you no matter what,

--------

With my commitment to taking care of myself and my mental health--in addition to (or in conjunction with!) taking care of my family--I'm not able to post here as regularly as I would like or as much as I did in the past.

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Turn, Turn, Turn: Apple Picking at Gizdich Ranch

Dearest Daughters,

I went apple picking for the first time my senior year of college.

It was so very New England.

I had Saddy Saturn out East with me, so Auntie Ninang Katherine and I hopped in the car one Saturday and picked some apples at a farm down the road from Wellesley.

At least, I think we picked apples. I mostly just remember a train ride. And being scolded by Auntie Ninang Katherine for sticking my arms outside of the train.

I wasn't drunk or anything.

Really, I promise.

I just can't remember real good.

I didn't know what Fall was until I moved to New England. And it was beautiful for a second, then it got all slippery-decomposing-leaves-on-the-ground and grey, dying depressing.

I much preferred Spring. And that, too, I learned the true meaning of in New England where it was such a beautiful relief and show of God's renewing grace after the Worst Season Ever: Winter.

I am a California girl. And now that I'm comfortably back in my temperate climate, I can glorify and wax nostalgic about the Fall.

It's still seventy degrees outside, but I'm pretending it's Fall.

It occurred to me last fall that maybe they grow apples in California too.

So, I did a little Internet searchy search and both you girls, Daddy and I went apple picking.

That's all to say that I never wrote a post about our trip and the unprocessed photos from that trip have been sitting in a file on my desktop since Forever. Not really. I hyperbolize, obviously. Since, say, give or take, last Fall.

Here some are now:

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Oh, the seasons. They do change. Are a changin'. Whatever.

My babies be gettin big:

 

September 2011

September 2012

And... scene.

Back to the present.

Last week, having fired myself from my Monday/Wednesday day job at the school, I found myself returning to my Tuesdays and Thursdays of self-care and RRR (relaxation routines and rituals) instead of Crazy Errand and Household Running. This is a lot of Days of The Week Talk. I don't expect you to follow it all.

Suffice it to say, my Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays were reclaimed as days to spend (in a better mind-heart-body-state) with my DDs, doing our routine thing. That is: morning outing, lunch, nap, snack, "watching stories"/cooking dinner, dinner, bath, books, bed! Amen.

So, last Monday I had the bright idea... yes, I'm finally getting to the point... to go apple picking again.

Like: a tradition or something! Crazy idea. I astound myself sometimes.

Except Daddy had to work. Because that's what he does on Mondays. And we missed him, but going on a Monday was waaaay nicer (that is, less busy) than going on a weekend like we did last year.

And this year, we brought Lola and Lolopop along to Gizdich Ranch in Watsonville, CA (about a one and a half hour drive from home).

Golden Delicious-es. Oh, and the apples too.

Last year we "accidentally" picked thirty pounds out of excitement. And then had to process all that apple. This year I let the girls do most of the picking. Grand total: seventeen pounds. We'll put up applesauce again. But, we'll also try fruit leather. And try to just freeze some chopped apples for pies later on.

Wearing the sweater I knit her, even though she doesn't like it, because I convinced her it was a "Fall Apple Picking Sweater."

 

My favorite part of the day: Lola telling the girls about the back-breaking work of picking strawberries and her wormy/snakey work on a tomato harvester as a youth. "Go to college," she says. And "thank you farmworkers," we said as we drove past all manner of working fields.

Apple-Ollalieberry Pie

See you next year!

Love you a bushel and a peck (hee hee),

Out and About: Lake Chabot

Dearest Daughters,

Well, here we are. Here I am. And every thing's fine.

There was a short-period when I seriously, intensely, viscerally, for reals believed with every fiber of my being that I would never ever ever ever in a million years be able to go out in public without having a panic attack, let alone out in public with both of you and no other adult supervision.

And, looky here:

 

Starting our hike at Lake Chabot Regional Park.

Snack break. About two minutes in to the hike.

"Mommy, take a picture of me with this big rock!"

Dear God, please don't let DJ fall into the lake while I take this picture? Amen.

Roots. [Insert symbolism and/or analogies here.]

Errrybody say: hiking!

Lake Chabot, boat, island. Communing with nature, expressing thanks for all that we saw and felt; doctor's orders!

Someone's little legs got tired, so I became a double-sided mommy pack mule.

The top of the "mountain." Time to turn around.

And a stop at the snack shack for Cheetos (Bel's choice). A balanced life, right? Nah. They're just a yummy treat. (To my credit, I have never before this moment purchased Cheetos for you girls.)

Racing back to the car after a lovely hike!

In the midst of my anxiety and depression, many of our readers, friends and family, assured me that healing and a return to normalcy (whatever that is!) would come sooner than I could fathom. And they were right! (Lots of love to all you smarty pants!)

 

And thank goodness.

Love,

Another Happy Place: Nature

Dearest Daughters,

In about a month (God, drug and therapy-willing), we'll be headed out on our annual camping trip with your Lolopop, Lola and cousins.

And this year, Danjo, you will get to join in the forest-exploring, beach-combing adventures. Which, you would think might give me a panic attack right now, but I know it will all be just fine. Because your older cousins, your Lolopop and Lola will all be there to make sure you don't eat banana slugs.

Meanwhile, I'll take naps in the sun and breath fresh air and eat s'mores all day.

So, this is another something from WAY LONG AGO! What the heck? Time flies!

Join me in a happy place! From our camping trip last year.

Love,

A Danjo-Paced Place: Children's Discovery Museum of San Jose

Dearest Daughters,

Another day spent alternating feeling trapped and wanting to be trapped at home means another day of digging up some old pictures I've yet to share.

Right now I can hardly bear the thought of planning dinner, let alone planning any outing that involves, oh, stuff like people and smells and sounds. Really narrows our options down. So, for now, I'll live vicariously through these memories.

Several weeks ago we went to the San Jose Children's Discovery Museum with Lolopop and Great Grandma Gibbs (GGG). Lola and Lolopop have a membership there, making the hour drive worth-it, even if we only stay for an hour or so.

I don't have that many pictures, because I spent the whole time chasing Danjo around the small, but full museum. From a multipurpose room turned toddler dance floor, darkened and with a spinning disco ball, music blasting (Danjo's favorite). To the bubble area.To the baby water play corral. And back. And up and over. And around and under.

Nothing off limits. Just the way a children's museum should be!

Babybel and Cousin A were with us, but their attention spans and critical thinking skills being a tad more advanced, GGG and Lolopop were able to venture around the museum with them in a civilized manner. You know, discussing current events and scientific phenomena. And paying attention to things for more than thirty seconds.

Meanwhile, back in Danjoland...

The most frustrating thing about my anxiety is that it makes me feel like a different person. I think to myself: who are you and what did you do with Lauren?

Things I would have jumped in the car to do at a moment's notice, things I wouldn't have given a second thought about, things I loved to do, like travel and deal with logistics, are the things that are bringing me the most terror.

I love you, girlies! Mommy's working on it. Just put on your patience pants!

Low-Stress Location: Hayward Japanese Garden

Dearest Daughters,

A silver lining in this whole I Never Want To Leave the House Again bout of anxiety, is that I'm learning to embrace simply being at home. Not running from here to there or saying "yes" to every social invitation or obligation. Not feeling guilty about letting you watch TV (which you did before, I just spent too much time feeling guilty about it.)

I'm giving myself permission to lay low for awhile. To make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner. To sit and do puzzles.

Of course, I can't hide from the Zoo and children's museums forever. And PB and J will undoubtedly get old. Or we'll run out of peanut butter. Whichever comes first.

Not to mention that as simple and as lovely as life is right now, it's rooted in my fear of having a panic attack and fueled by mild-depression-like symptoms of general self-defeat, procrastination, lack of motivation, etc.

It's not great right now, but it'll be fine. I'm taking all the right steps to be in a better place tomorrow, next week and next year than I was last week, last month and last year. And isn't that all we are ever trying to do? To be in a better place? To continue to grow into the person God intends for us to be?

In light of my contemplative attitude and in thinking about low-stress outings that I can take with you girls in the Great Re-Introduction to Society of 2012, I wanted to share some photos from a visit we took back in January to the Hayward Japanese Garden.

We went on an overcast day. It was entirely empty except for a group of teenage girls taking what I can only guess they thought were glamour shots.

It's not a big garden. And I don't mean to knock the gardeners, but it's not one of those fancy gardens where I'm fearful that Danjo will either trample precious flora or fall into the koi pond. (Though they do have a koi pond observable from a fully-banistered pagoda.)

There are no signs saying to stay on the path and there are also these gravel paths that lead to various rock outcroppings, surrounded by plants, suggesting to me that it's okay to venture off, sit, contemplate and/or climb and throw rocks. Whatever your cup of tea.

So, it's actually sort of a perfect place for a relatively peaceful, low-stress outing with my smallsies.

With our favorite outing companion, Auntie Ninang Katherine!

No point in stopping you.

Danjo, throwing rocks since... forever.

Love you, Babybel!

Ain't no mountain high, ain't no valley low, ain't no river wide enough, baby, to keep me from getting to you.

Maybe it's just my imagination or Xanax-induced haze. Or maybe you girls are just that empathetic. Or like those dogs who sense earthquakes? Whichever, you've been really great lately, playing together so well, offering me your lovies, not acting like crazy caged animals even though you've watched Rio three times in a row and haven't breathed fresh air since Sunday.

(I'm being a little poetic-liscency-dramatic here, People; we do actually take walks and play outside. And run errands and go places as a family. I just haven't taken on the challenge of a major outing with both girls by myself yet.)

I know you won't remember this. And I know you don't care if you eat hot dogs for dinner and watch movies all week. Nevertheless, I thank you for being such wonderful babies to this currently not-all-there-momma.

Love,

Family Vacation in Ventura: ten things to do with toddlers on vacation

Dearest Daughters,

Thanks to your Ninang Auntie Jonelle, who offered us use of her timeshare, we were able to take our first ever nuclear family vacation, unrelated to business travel!

We usually travel in hordes, Lola and Lolopop's brood alone consisting of over twenty people. Or we're accompanying your daddy on his business travel, which don't get me wrong, provides amazing opportunities, but the trade-off is that he's often busy working. Anyway, it's significant. Trust.

We also were able to spend time with Ninang Auntie Katherine who drove up from Los Angles not once, but twice to spend her days off with us!

Also, got to spend some QT with one of Daddy's aunts in Arroyo Grande for a quick road trip layover. That was a very special treat for you girls who were lavished with toys, attention and a humongous and gorgeous home to stay and play in.

Here's a photo recap of our aptly-paced, lazy, beachy, puzzly visit to Ventura. And some advice for vacationing with young children. Some things are Ventura-specific, but could probably be applied to most any vacation.

First peek of the "real ocean". Not the "pretend ocean," by Bel's distinction.

1. Embrace and enjoy lots and lots of hanging out in our vacation accommodations:

(creating family folklore around "Blue" the sea gull who visited us at sunset every evening)

2. Find a couple of low-energy attractions. In our case: Downtown Ventura, the Mission and Ventura County Museum (perfect quick and effortless visits for short attention spans!)

3. Hang out at a local playground. We found Marina Park. Kids don't need nothing fancy on vacation. But, the view of the beach sure helps Mommy tolerate push-swing arm and playground monotony!

4. Try a non-peak season visit! Ventura Harbor, typical touristy over-priced restaurants, but during the non-peak season, lots of space to let Danjo run (careful not to let her run down the boat docks and straight into the harbor.) And a fun arcade and ice cream to boot:

5. MUST FIND WATER! Harbor Cove Beach, not the most picturesque of beaches, but sheltered by two rock jetties, so safe for toddlers to play all day. And a great place to watch various watercraft head out to sea as well as the amazing, dive-bombing Brown Pelicans which are EVERYWHERE in the harbor area:

6. Discover a nature or visitor center! They're small and support our national or state parks systems. Channel Islands National Park Visitor Center, has a small museum, perfect for a pre-nap, no-boat-needed, virtual visit to the islands:

7. Find some transportation to ride or visit. Fillmore and Western Railway, an historic railway about 30 minutes from Ventura. There happened to be a Thomas event during our vacation, but we might have gone anyway to see the small train museum and checkout the trains on the yard.

Whew! And, in between all that exploration, we didn't forget to take time for:

8. long play-baths

9. long walks to nowhere in particular

and

10. much-needed naps

Love,

Over the river and through the woods

Dearest Daughters,

While visiting Great Grandma in WAAAAAY Northern California, we mostly played inside and spent quality time with Grandma. With a couple of exceptions, everyone was on their best behavior, good travlers (helps when you drive during nap and bed times!), going potty when told to, displaying some semblance of table manners, using our please and thank yous, not breaking anything. That Grandma especially! She was such a big girl!

Redding, California is not a place I'd ever live, but it has it's moments. It's a place that holds childhood memories of hot summers spent doing crafts with Grandma, being shooed from Grandpa's recliner, the classical public radio station playing in the background. Lifting the giant lid of the backyard sandbox, the German Shepherd nipping at our heels. A creaky swing set. Picking strawberries from Grandma's garden. Lying on the cool linoleum of the family room and playing with toys hand-crafted by Grandpa, some of them from Lolo's childhood.

I'm sure Lolopop has stories he could tell of an era with out airconditioning, of running barefoot in the street, exploring, adventuring, fishing, climbing his way around Redding as a child, as long as he was back by supper.

My memories are small. And quiet. And fond.

And mostly contained to Grandma and Grandpa's house and backyard. Maybe to the school yard a few blocks away and to the First United Methodist Church where I refused to go to Sunday School, instead preferring to play in the nursery with the very same April who watches you girls when we go to church with Grandma now.

Now Grandma lives in an apartment. And it's a different setting from the one preserved in my childhood memories. Though objects here and there send me back into my memory. Furniture built by Grandpa, photographs, art, the bath mat, the bread dish.

And other things are the same.

Setting the table. Clothespins with our names on them to mark our cloth napkins. The care and attention and fuss over our meals. The freshly baked cookies. The hodge podge of items sitting in a basket for you girls to tinker and play with. A scarf. A toy car. Cardboard boxes. A key to nowhere. And everywhere.

We are all so blessed to be able to continue making memories with Grandma.

(Visiting Turtle Bay Exploration Park with Grandma.)

(Bel's very observant and intellectual experience of the Dr. Seuss exhibit.)

(Danjo's--how shall we say?--kinesthetic experience of the exhibit. For those that watch PBS children's programming, you can imagine Danjo's chorus of "Here we GO! GO! GO!s" echoing around the room.)

(Packing supplies and cooking as the pioneers did.)

(What's Mommy gotta do to get a cup of coffee around here?)

(Gonna head to a different part of the museum, but better check the GPS first.)

(FISH! FISH! FISH!)

("M for Maribel" hotcakes.)


(And D for Danger, I mean, Danielle. That Grandma spoils us!)
(And what we really came for: to make memories of recliner forts.)

(And using our imagination and creativity: "You can take a picture of my drawing. It's a swimming pool.")

(And cuddles, of course.)

Love,

Getting sappy at the Oakland Zoo

Dearest Daughters,

One of our favorite places is the Oakland Zoo.

Gramma and Granpa have gifted us a membership the past few Christmases. And it really is the best gift that anyone could give. It doesn't take up space. There is no clean up involved. And it is the non-chemical equivalent to giving my children sleeping pills.

After a visit to the zoo, easy nap and bedtimes are guaranteed.

I think that's written into the fine print of the membership documents.

Because we have a membership, there is less pressure at the zoo. We can walk around the whole zoo. Or not. We can just visit the petting zoo goats. Or the tigers. And it makes it easier to follow through on that whole parental threat of "if you step out of line again, we are LEAVING!"

Another thing I like about the ability to visit the zoo multiple times a year, if not multiple times a month, is that it provides a place for me to watch my children grow.

Returning to the same context, the same elephant enclosure, the same insect climbing structures in the Children's Zoo, I step back and really give you girls a good look.

I'm flooded with memories of how big you were when... or the last time you... or in the case of Danjo, how much closer you are to your goal of being able to pet a giraffe.

Love,

Hiking Buddies

Dearest Daughters,

To ease the transition to staying at home full time, I reduced my hours this month. I only work Tuesday-Thursday now.

We've only had a few of them, nevertheless I've reached the preliminary conclusion that Stay At Home Parent Mondays are the Best Kind of Mondays.

We wake up at about the same time every week day. Mostly because of Danjo who rises with the literal chickens. And partly because of Daddy who we have to bring to BART by eight o' the clock.

On Work Day mornings, I pull myself out of bed. We're frenzied and harried and barely manage to pull ourselves together. And anyone who is anyone knows that a Monday, being the day directly following the Weekend Days of Hardly Any Schedules or Expectations, is often a shock to the senses.

The great thing about Stay At Home Mondays is that even though we get up at the same time; and we still get dressed and readied; there is an ease to the day. I don't hate getting out of bed. I don't have to jump in the shower. Nothing is forced. And the world is our oyster.

This morning we dropped off Daddy. Came home and had waffles with whipped cream AND sprinkles. Then, took a hike.

We drove five minutes to an Equestrian Staging Area of Lake Chabot Regional Park to climb up to Fairmont Ridge in the hills above San Leandro. Walked right through a herd of grazing cattle. "That is the tallest mountain I EVER met!" Bel declared. Bel walked up and down the hill/mountain all by herself (in her dragon hoodie, of course). I let Danjo start the hike on her own, but in true form, you ran straight off the path and into a ditch, so I packed you en-Ergo on my back against your kicking, flailing wishes.

And we made it.

Did I mention we had our Doggie House Guest with us too? We did, but he was quite the off leash gentleman. And my other hiking buddies weren't too much trouble either. Except it took me two minutes to convince Bel it was okay and feasible for you to climb up just ONE rung of this gate so we could get a shot of all of us with San Leandro in the background. Danjo, on the other hand, needed no such convincing and, as you can see, shimmied yourself to the top of the six foot gate. I had to pry you off.

And all this by 10:00AM. Yay for Stay At Home Monday mornings!

Uh... so... now what?

Love you no matter what,