Tomorrow, I’m off to New York! Why this picture…not sure – but I don’t have many of just me. And this one looks like I’m thinking about something spectacular. Which I am. Can’t wait…
See You Next Week!
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Category Archives: Big Piece of Cake
The Buzz Around the Baby Pool
This summer, I’ve been going to the community pool quite a bit during the week. And as I toss, swing and ferry small children who seem determined to pants me with kicking feet, I look around and experience this strange wave of everything in my life coming full circle.
I’m in my late thirties, and sometimes I still can’t believe it. I don’t think that my age is “old,” but it’s definitely older than I feel. And the increasingly laugh-lined face that looks back at me in the mirror each morning jars me with this obvious discrepancy. Only yesterday, I was looking at smooth teenage skin and lamenting imaginary cellulite on my thighs. I valued a tan over a clean bill of health from the dermatologist. Unwanted facial hair was for aging crones – not the likes of pink cheeked me.
I thought people over thirty were grownups…middle aged…parents, uncles, aunts…a far off future where so many things shouldn’t matter anymore. Because, they’re too old for that. Gross.
And now I’m here, in the heartland of not old, but not young anymore. In general, I really like my age and the humor, confidence and better priorities that I’ve picked up along the way. But getting older doesn’t necessarily translate into getting wiser, and anyone my age is susceptible to their fair share of heartbreak, disappointment and selfishness.
Within the past month I have sat by the pool and talked to two different friends about their husbands cheating on them – even leaving them for other women. What once shocked and disgusted me as a young girl has now become a possible reality for my contemporaries. Something people gossip about. What must the young lifeguards think when they overhear bits and pieces of these conversations… Him? Her? Eeew. Too old.
When you’re seventeen, you don’t want to think about older people that way. I very clearly remember being horrified by the idea of affairs – of people leaving their husband or wife for someone else. About the scandal of it all. From my perspective they really were too old for that kind of thing. They should have been more responsible, and their aging bodies just made the behavior seem all the more sordid and repulsive.
I spent the summers of my high school years lounging around pools where my friends were lifeguards. I never actually worked at a pool myself as I’m a mediocre swimmer at best, but I took full advantage of the visitation rights we all assumed. And during that time, I saw a lot of “old” people embarrassing themselves.
When you’re thirty eight, a nice thirty three year old unmarried man with all of his hair and a good job is a catch! When you’re seventeen, he’s just some old guy trying to flirt with you. Again – gross.
My husband has often remarked on his reluctance to hold overly long conversations with the long legged beauties who lifeguard at our pool. Even if it’s about swim lessons for our kids or their own college plans, there is something about this half-dressed contact with them that makes him feel like a dirty old man. Like he has no business even peripherally glancing in their direction, lest he actually notice how attractive they are. He has a daughter now and automatically thinks of her. What if it was a teenage Eleanor on display for the middle aged men at the pool. Someday it will be…
We’ve even had conversations about whether we think the lifeguards are aware of their varying effects on the pool parents or if they’re totally oblivious. Based on my own experience, I would guess that the girls know, and can tell the difference between friendly dads and leering lechers. But we both agree that the boys are probably clueless.
Chris swam competitively through college and did his fair share of lifeguarding. Looking back, he can remember a few incidents of what may have been slightly too friendly attentions from a mom or two, but not much beyond that. Maybe it wasn’t common. Or maybe it just didn’t register.
From what I’ve observed, the mommies around the baby pool are far less likely to notice the lifeguards. We’re too busy changing swim diapers and organizing snacks during breaks. And of course, teenage boys are so obviously “too young.” We may not be able to tell whether they’re seniors in high school or freshmen in college – but it’s all the same. Many (if not all) of us are old enough to have been of legal drinking age when they were born. And the much younger man relationship is far less typical and acceptable in current society than the much younger woman variety. For most of us, any physical attraction associated with these guys is a cringe worthy concept.
Well… With one exception. Because any woman from my neighborhood who read this would be thinking the same thing: um – what about Scott? [A pseudonym of course.] This young man has the community pool moms abuzz. Because yes – he is just that good looking.
It started with a few tentative remarks: “so did you see THAT guy?” But it’s escalated to joking comments about his days off: “Yeah – so disappointing news…Scott’s not here today. I mean really, what’s the point of even coming…”
I know – I know… It sounds silly. But he really is nostalgia inducing. He’s that super cute guy you knew in school who was also really nice. He has that same effortless confidence (and tattoos!). He’s tall with broad shoulders. He has black, shaggy surfer hair and a perfect tan. He’s what your grandma may have once called “a tall drink of water”, and what the cougars refer to as “almost legal.” It’s impossible not to notice him. And maybe even giggle a little at the ridiculously immature (and largely universal) reaction to his impromptu games of water Frisbee.
It really does make me laugh just thinking about it. And the first time I saw him, I couldn’t contain my guffaw of amusement. I was watching an actual cliche dive into our boring, suburban pool. The hot lifeguard indeed.
But just so you know, Scott is also a very nice boy who is great with my kids. From afar, “the hot lifeguard” is a two dimensional reminder of our own often forgotten youth. But up close in conversation, he’s just a good looking high school boy. Just as goofy. Just as ordinary. And yes – I think just as oblivious to the effect he has on the old(ER!) ladies. Or at least oblivious to the extent of it.
My husband, Chris finds the whole thing endlessly entertaining. It also holds a little nostalgia for him since he claims that he was once on the other side of the whistle. Of course that’s what he says. Even the other men in the neighborhood have noticed Scott, and when Chris casually commented, “that was once me,” my neighbor, Rich dryly retorted, “THAT was never you.”
Seriously! Grown people are having these conversations. This summer’s hot lifeguard is quickly gaining legendary status…we may be talking about him for years.
Because we’re all very affected by the young people around us. They remind us of who we were. And who we weren’t. In fact, I think those missed opportunities in life often hold more power over us than the accomplishments do. When you’re young, there is all of this time ahead. All of this possibility. Even if we’re not the best, brightest or prettiest – things could always change. Then we’re not young anymore and that ship has sailed.
At this point, I doubt many of us have serious regrets about not being the most popular person in our class or dating the super good looking, nice guy that Scott seems to be. But we might regret thinking we didn’t deserve it. Looking back, would I say that the most popular people were also the best looking people? Nope. Really, it all comes down to confidence. And I think we all have some regrets for not exhibiting more of it when we really should have.
When the subject of Scott first came up, my friends talked about how he reminded them of old boyfriends. Me? Not so much. I never dated anyone like that. Nor did I try. I “didn’t really care about looks” when I was a teenager. Which probably stemmed more from insecurity than well placed priorities. I’m sure that on some level I just assumed “that guy” was out of my league. Now I realize that this was far from true. When you’re in high school, a little confidence (and a loose moral or two) can go a long way.
So when we see the carefree lifeguards spending their summer in the sun without any plans past that evening’s keg party, we do feel a twinge of nostalgia for a time when anything was possible – even if we didn’t realize it.
Life isn’t so carefree anymore. Every day you hear another rumor circulating through your friends and acquaintances. This one lost his job. That one left her husband. Those two have been secret alcoholics for years… Ironically enough, it’s these stories that have endless possibilities.
It all makes me look back with bittersweet fondness for the girl that I used to be and the simple life I led. I really don’t have many regrets. Ultimately, those unnecessary insecurities allowed me a little more time to be innocent.
And I don’t regret the loss of that time in my life either. I’m ready to be older. To be a mother…a wife…a friend who listens and understands. Youth doesn’t corner the market on everything lovely. There really is beauty in aging gracefully – even if we do stumble now and again.
But it would be nice to send a little wisdom back in time. A message in a bottle to the shiny, new people we were once becoming. Mine would say:
Dear teenage Kate,
You have the rest of your life to not care about looks. Go flirt with the hot lifeguard.
Fondly,
Your older and slightly more jaded self
Youth really is wasted on the young…
Some Pictures From Our Getting To Be Not-So-Recent Vacation
I always do that… Say I’m going to post pictures from a vacation and then forget. Well – I don’t forget, but time gets away from me. So a month later…
Here are some highlights of our trip to California and Arizona (new and improved with super-long air travel hell!)
It was a good time – and I can’t complain too much about the travel part. My kids were pretty good (with the exception of one sleep deprived three year old’s melt down and a meanie up front using the F-word about it).
And now…a much shorter child-free weekend in NYC! I certainly have the life this summer. (Do you doubt it? Next photo installment: the ridiculously good looking lifeguard at our pool. It’s not a heat wave that’s making the suburban moms in my ‘hood swoon…)
Sticky Fingers and Chocolate All Around!
Want to see some pictures of my kids eating s’mores – compliments of my BlogHer train ticket sponsors, Hershey & Kraft?
Come visit me HERE!
How to Be Fabulous
Okay – I lied when I said no more BlogHer talk until I get back. But this is short.
I thought I’d share a conversation that Anna and I had about how to be fabulous – specifically how we plan to approach the BlogHer parties (which comes in at about 1:30):
How to Work a Room
*From Party Monster, 2003
Sorry – just though of that scene this morning, and I couldn’t resist.
Why I Really Shouldn’t Be on a Reality TV Show About Bloggers (Alternatively Titled: PorkHer)
*Disclaimer: I know that I said I wouldn’t write anything else about BlogHer until I returned, but this isn’t about the conference. It’s about…well, just read it already!
If you are on Twitter, you have most likely seen numerous calls for comments on “audition” posts for Project Mom Casting interviews that will be held next week in New York. The casting call? Mothers who blog. For a reality show. Whether this will be a heartwarming documentary about how the Internet has changed the cast’s lives OR a campy Real Housewives take on their sensational blogger antics remains to be seen. But my guess is that the former is more likely.
Now, the fact that I’m a mother AND I have a blog makes me pretty much 100% qualified for this. Right?
Um – no.
As much as I love the idea of watching a good friend become a household name, I think it’s pretty safe to say that I would not, myself make a good candidate. Aside from the fact that my husband would probably divorce me if I involved him in anything like that (ooooh – I smell a story arc….), there are some very specific reasons why I wouldn’t even attempt to audition:
1. My house is too messy. I like to think of myself as a very neat and organized person, but I happen to live with four slobs. The only way that my house would stay spotless is if I spent the whole day cleaning. And THAT would mean I wouldn’t have any time to spend on my blogs which are really the only current activity I have that doesn’t involve some form of care taking. So I have to choose: clean house or personal identity. And the winner is… Anyway – don’t even talk to me about hiring professionals to come in every couple of weeks. The biggest slob in the house would say we can’t afford it. Then I look at all of his clothes on the floor and say, “pick up your shirt.” And then he looks at me and says “take off your shirt.” And we’re at an impasse. Messy house it is.
2. The camera does not love me. I am not particularly photogenic, and this applies to all things video as well. I have had many jokes made at my expense regarding the way I pose for pictures. And I can’t really blame anyone because I pretty much have it down to a science. At some point in high school I figured out that I have a very definite good side (the result of a deviated septum and visibly crooked nose, which for some reason I didn’t recognize until an ENT asked me when I broke my nose, giving me a massive complex since I have NEVER broken my nose…but that’s another post for another time). And I learned that if I tilt my head just so to the right, I look remarkably better than if I don’t. My friends called this “the Kate Coveny [my maiden name] head tilt” and over twenty years later, it’s stuck. Even Chris makes fun of me. Since there is no way to keep your head continuously tilted and angled toward the camera for optimal effect while being filmed… I just don’t think the producers would like my look. Asymmetrical doesn’t play well with an audience.
3. I’m boring. I mean, I myself am not a boring person to be around. But there isn’t anything going on in my life that would keep people perched on the edge of their seats, dying to hear more. I don’t think I need to give an account of what my life is like since, you know – I have this whole blog about it… But in case you’re not familiar with The Big Piece of Cake, I’ll just say that no one is making a movie of my life story anytime soon.
Here is an example of #3 (and #2 for that matter). Chris has a (currently lapsed) food-related blog that he would often update with clips from our video camera. It started with cooking stuff – but then he put together a kind of series on barbecue places on a drive through the South. Last summer, we did a road trip down to Florida to see a sick relative, and we took what must have been hours of footage at those restaurants. And I star in most of them. Here are some clips I pulled from Dad Can Cook:
This was my “debut.” Chris asked me to take pictures of a pulled pork dinner that he basically assigned to me. The camera was broken, so I vlogged it:
All right Mr. De Mille, I’m ready for my close-up.
Then of course, some barbecue joint clips:
That’s a lot of pork-related footage for someone who isn’t that much of a fan. The things we do for love…
NUDITY even!
Okay – not really “nudity”…but I did always say that I wouldn’t sell out like that.
So what do you think? Reality show potential there? No?
I agree. But I know several people who do have some star quality. So visit these links and let them know that you concur.
Heather – The Extraordinary Ordinary
Kelcey – The Mama Bird Diaries
Go on! I may not have “it” – but I recognize it when I see it…
Note to producers of Project Mom Casting: This is my personal endorsement of blogs that I read religiously. The writers would all be great candidates for a show about women who blog – who have engaging and inspiring stories to tell. I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for, but let me know if you ever have any ideas for pork-related programming.
Note to other bloggers: Do you have an audition post I haven’t seen? Leave a link in comments. I’d love to read it.
Note to self: Splash on a little makeup before coming within ten feet of any camera. Also, don’t let the head tilt mockers get you down. Until they’ve walked a mile in this nose…
AND……SCENE!
Another One of Those Annoying BlogHer Posts
So yeah – I’m going this year. And I’m pretty excited about it. I would have loved to go last year, but it conflicted with family vacation plans, and the year before that, I had only been blogging for a few weeks – so it seemed a little early to fly out to San Francisco for a conference.
Both years, I read all of those “Can’t wait! See you there!” posts, as well as countless recaps. And I loved them. It was like reality programming. In an “I don’t know why I find this so captivating, but I just can’t get enough” kind of way. And I don’t even like reality TV… Except for Project Runway. Which brings me to my next topic.
The ONLY thing that made me seethe with jealousy last year was that Tim Gunn was going to be there. I love Tim Gunn. I generally agree with everything he says to the designers, and I’m always just as aghast at how unfair or apparently blind the judges can be in their own critiques. Tim and I are are very much on the same page. On many a rushed Monday morning as I ran after half dressed toddlers, I imagined Tim drawling, “Kate, you have two minutes before rush hour starts, and you haven’t even started on hair and makeup yet. This concerns me…really, it’s make it work time.” So of course I felt very cheated that I wasn’t able to meet him in person (and probably just squeak out a hello before realizing I have nothing very interesting to say and then skulk away to feel boring – but STILL!)
So I very much hope that Tim will be there again since it’s New York. I can’t think of any other celebrity that would thrill me more. Seriously – if People Magazine approved hunks, Hugh Jackman, Robert Pattison and Johnny Depp were standing in together in the Hilton lobby, fighting over who could take me out to dinner, I would pole vault over them to confirm a rumor that Tim Gunn was sighted at the concierge desk.
Slight exaggeration – but you get my point. And that is IT for my stalker potential. I never recognize anyone in real life anyway (I even wrote a post on some of my NYC missed celebrity sightings once). So stars are wasted on me. I once stood in line behind Matthew McConaughy and Sandra Bullock at a Starbucks and my only thought was, “wow – they’re really good looking.”
I live nearby in the DC area and went to college in the Bronx, so I’ve spent enough time in Manhattan to know what I like to do best there. And sadly, I don’t think there will be much time. I just love walking (if you do too, see Marinka’s walking tour post). There’s always something to look at and you never get lost (at least not uptown where the streets are an easy grid). Don’t get me wrong – I also love shopping in New York, but my financial advisor doesn’t think a tour of Fifth Avenue is doable right now. Maybe one pair of shoes from Saks?
Moving on… This conference isn’t really about exploring New York for me. I’m fortunate enough to have proximity on my side for many return trips. No – I’m just really looking forward to meeting all of the people (or at least most of them since – sniff – not everyone can go) that I’ve been “virtually” getting to know over the past couple of years.
I won’t bombard you with links since the list would be far too long – but I will make one mention. Anna from An Inch of Gray is going to be my roommate. And that is rather full circle for me because she was my first real blog friend. I started commenting on her posts before I had even started The Big Piece of Cake. And then after a while, we realized that we’re practically neighbors. I’d love to say that I see her all the time – but unfortunately, it’s not nearly enough. If you’ve never read Anna’s blog, you should rectify that immediately. She’s funny and insightful and exactly the kind of person you could see as your best friend.
We’ll both be working a couple of shifts at the Serenity Suite (so come by and say hello on Friday 12-12:30 p.m. or Saturday 2-3 p.m.), but other than that, I’m not really committed to anything. I have some RSVPs in for the open parties (People’s Party, Mouthy Housewives, Blogalicious and Sparklecorn) and I even have ONE private party invite for an event at Martha Stewart HQ (because I asked for it) – but that’s pretty much it. Now I’ve mentioned this on Twitter…and I’ll throw it out there again…you know, just in case. But I wouldn’t mind at all filling in as someone’s guest (or even taking their spot if they can’t make it) for the Ralph Lauren party. Honestly – don’t be shy – just e-mail me. I’m nothing if I’m not generous – and [only slightly too tight grasp on your forearm] if you are going to that party? I’m here for you.
On subject of Twitter (we were just talking about it – I mentioned it several lines above)….
I have been tweeting my ass off! Is “tweeting” the right way to say that? (I’m still enough of a novice to not be sure.) Anyway – I opened a Twitter account shortly after I started my blog and never quite understood how it was so “addictive.” I would try to get into it, but always felt kind of like a foreign exchange student in a high school locker room – all of these conversations going on that I didn’t quite understand. But now that I have a reason to tweet (I’m pretty sure that’s right), I think I might actually be getting the hang of it. I just thought it would be useful at the conference when I’m trying to figure out where to meet people, and everyone’s all, “I’ll be on Twitter – so just check in there.” With another week under my belt, I’ll be fully proficient. So tweet me @BigPieceofCake and we’ll do drinks or coffee or roaming around a crowded lobby not seeing each other even though we’re on either side of the same potted plant.
I’ll be staying at the Hilton, so feel free to invite me to any late after-parties. I have a hard time sleeping at conferences. Actually – that’s not exactly accurate…I was a meeting planner for about ten years so I always worked at conferences and wasn’t really allowed to sleep, what with the late nights and early wake up calls and all. But potato-potahto – I doubt I’ll sleep that much at BlogHer either.
While my ticket and hotel weren’t sponsored in any way – I DID luck into a group sponsorship from… All things sponsorship must go on my giveaway and review site, As Good As Cake, so go there to find out who sponsored me and where you can find their “sweet” suite at BlogHer 2010!
Now – since I have done the “conference thing” for years and I have a little insight into that, I was trying to think of any tips I have that I haven’t seen mentioned elsewhere. Here are a few:
1. Some people will tell you to wear great shoes and others will tell you to wear comfortable shoes – but I’m telling you now that it’s all about “the devil you know.” Maybe all of your comfortable flat shoes look like they belong at the community pool OR maybe you have plenty of comfortable shoes, but you don’t think they’re nice enough. My advice is DON’T go out and buy some Easy Spirit semi-heels expecting them to feel like clouds strapped to your feet after a day of walking the exhibit hall floor. They won’t. I’ve done that and paid for it in very painful blisters. I suggest picking some of the most comfortable shoes that you actually own, and go with them. And they may be heels. In fact I’m going to be wearing a pair of heeled sandals at least one day and two nights simply because they’re really are comfortable and will look good with outfits that I’d like to wear. Will my feet be sore at the end of the day/night? Probably, but I know exactly how sore. AND I know that I won’t get blisters. If you are just casual and that’s it? Own it. Wear whatever makes you feel great and don’t feel intimidated by shiny new stilettos. Just picture the blisters forming on the heels of the women wearing them and have compassion. Know they may be crippled for the second half of the conference. Offer them your seat on Saturday. It’s the kind thing to do.
Also? Open toe or sandals will make a world of difference if you have anything like that.
2. Sticking with the superficial stuff… I also suggest that you pick your most time consuming maintenance issue and have a plan for streamlining it. Do you really want to spend hours of your precious conference time in your room getting ready? I think not. And if that means adding a flat iron to your already bulging suitcase – do it! Spending an hour with the hotel supplied hair drier and your brush will be a huge waste of time you could be spending with friends. Hair is definitely my most time consuming “get ready” activity if I wear it down. So instead of running out for the trim that I really want, I decided to leave it alone and go with the low pony tail for most of the weekend. I can get ready in five to ten minutes (including a shower) with the exception of my hair. My hair is fairly short now, so I part it on the side and pull it into a low pony tail while it’s wet. Takes two seconds, lasts all day, and looks (dare I say it) incredibly chic when paired with pretty much any outfit. And if it’s imperative that you look perfectly coiffed (and you can afford this…) have your hair done professionally. For god’s sake, it’s New York! You have tons of nearby salons at your disposal. Book an appointment and make a mini-event of it. Grab a glass of champagne afterward. Live a little.
Maybe hair isn’t your issue. Talk to someone who is an “expert” in whatever you’re dealing with and have them help you plan some time saving shortcuts.
3. This tip I read somewhere else – but I think it’s just so ridiculously smart, and deserves repeating. Have a plan for what you will be wearing each day and night. I know – again with the superficial… What can I say? I fly by the seat of my pants when it comes to social stuff, but I need to have a plan for the clothes and styling. Either way – this applies to everyone since it will simplify packing and keep your suitcase as small as possible. I can’t remember where I read this…but the person who suggested it even put accessories an plastic bags to attach to the hangers! I doubt I’ll be that organized – but before I zip up my suitcase, I know it will include everything I need for:
-(wearing) Thursday day – travel
-Thursday evening parties
-Friday – conference day
-Friday evening parties
-Saturday – conference day
-Saturday evening parties
-Sunday morning
-(BONUS: Sunday mid-day travel, one to two back up outfits for day/night in case I spill a Diet Coke down the front of my shirt…it could happen…)
That’s a maximum of 10 outfits; and for me, jeans will be involved in at least five to six of them. I’m not going to be wearing LBDs and Louboutins (I wish!) each day – so I’m definitely coming from a regular girl perspective here…my clothes will be a mix of J. Crew, Anthropologie and Target. And no – I won’t state the ratio on that.
4. MORE SUPERFICIAL! But seriously – this is practical travel advice when it comes to accessories. Put the family heirlooms back in the lock box and wear fashionable fakes for a weekend like this. If you have both diamond anniversary earrings and a pair of cubic zirconia? Bring the CZ. The last thing you want is a ruined day/night that involves lost jewelry and security reports. No one will notice the difference. Try to be as Holly Go-Lightly as possible with what you pack. You don’t want to arrive home in tears over what you lost – you do want to be emotionally filled to the brim with what you gained.
5. Finally, this is non-superficial advice for myself as well as anyone else. Act about ten times more confident than you actually feel. Not cocky or obnoxious…just happy. When in doubt? Smile. BIG. And walk up to people to introduce yourself. If anyone seems less than thrilled to meet you, assume you caught them at a bad time and move on. Seriously – from my personal life experience combined with what I’ve read about this particular conference, you will find plenty of people who WANT to talk to you, who are THRILLED to meet you and who may even become close future friends. But only if you try. Only if you put yourself out there. ONLY if you don’t let the little things get to you and appreciate the wonderful people right next to you at the moment.
If only I could go back to high school and give 15 year old Kate the same advice… Sigh. She would just smirk and think I’m old. But only behind my back, because she was a very polite girl.
So that’s all I have for BlogHer. You won’t hear anything about it here again until I’m back.
For those of you not going? You’ll be missed, I’ll take pictures, and I’ll try to convince you to make it work (you tell ’em Tim!) next year.
For those of you who are? I’ll be on Twitter. Can’t wait to see you there.
This is why …
…I need to go to the “How to Edit Your Pictures and Make Them 10x Better” session at BlogHer:
I am so rarely IN pictures. Unless my Dad is around, no one ever thinks, Kate looks lovely today, we should really capture this moment digitally (I almost typed “on film”…days of yore…) OR if I demand that someone get a picture RIGHT NOW (like HERE).
No – I’m typically the one behind the camera. BUT every once in a while, we’ll be with friends or family and someone will actually take some candids or group shots with (gasp!) me in them.
I just looked through the pictures my mother in law took while we were on vacation in CA and found a handful of UNPRECEDENTED candids devoted to me interacting with my children.
But the lighting wasn’t very good:
And I think this one could use a little reduction magic in the nose department…
An photo editing class at BlogHer sounds like just what I need. My own point and shoot photos, as well as the ones I receive from friends and family are often “perfect if only…”
You just never know when you might need Photoshop expertise to make your own bathing suit pictures look more like this:
Yes – that’s my unedited sister in law. I’m think I’m going to start telling people I’m “the funny one.” Any other suggestions? In the meantime, I’ll look forward to getting some handy photo editing advice from my friends Pauline and Amy.
Broken English (Alternatively Titled: Fixing Oliver)
When our children are first starting to put sentences together and use multi-syllabic words, we are gifted with hours of amusement and endless family anecdotes. My three olds make up words and butcher syntax like any other kids their age, and of course we think it’s all hilarious.
Within the past hour, George asked me if a knife was “only for peoples” (his way of saying grownups), and after ranting at me about something, claimed that he didn’t scream, he just “yellowed.” Eleanor doesn’t just wear dresses – she wears “ballerinas.” And for a long time, she would announce in her best ring master voice, “ladies and Jaqueline!” Sorry Jaquelines of the world, but I think my daughter just called you a ho.
From George’s vehement, “YES I are!” retorts to Eleanor’s newest addition to the dictionary: “lasterday,” we revel in their audacity – their uninhibited assault on the English language. And we never tire of recounting these stories to both doting grandparents and graciously indulgent friends alike.
She is something else…
He is quite a character…
But I’ve realized that we don’t tell as many dialogue-related stories about my oldest son. And this isn’t surprising since his delays have made him much slower to experiment with language.
Where the twins, like other children, fling new words like confetti, five year old Oliver holds them close, tucks them into pockets and puzzles over them like foreign currency. The concept of language is understood, but the values attributed to the various elements still elude him.
Of course, he has made us laugh over the years with his own grammatical missteps and mispronunciations. In fact he charmed me just the other day by telling me that I “misappeared.” But these moments have been fewer, farther between and always overshadowed by the worry over what the future may hold.
I’ve been thinking about that more and more as I see the unbalanced ratio of blog posts dedicated to the funny things my children say. Oliver is not very well represented – and that makes me sad.
Because he is just as much of a delight to me as my twins. But who would know it?
I guess we just assume that others won’t appreciate these stories as much as we do. They don’t know how hard he works for what comes so easily to other kids. His funny stories would be more common to children two years younger and don’t seem quite as cute in the context of a boy his age. For those of us who know him well and love him just the way he is, there is no difference. We laugh and beam with pride and find him just as entertaining as his siblings. It’s like an inside joke that only we understand. So why bother?
But that’s not fair to him at all. Especially since there actually are other perspectives or contexts in which anyone can appreciate anecdotes about Oliver.
For a long time, I’ve likened his more unusual social anxieties and his tendency to disengage at times to that of a tourist who doesn’t speak the local language. Or at least not well – possibly due to dialect. He may understand a little of what is said, but the nuances might give him the slip. He doesn’t feel safe much of the time. He doesn’t know what people want of him and what their intentions are. New people could seem nice but really have nefarious plans for him (hello, good natured lab technician who performs pediatric blood tests!) So often, when he feels unsure of himself or the situation he’s encountered, he’ll wander off – withdraw into his imagination.
I’ve frequently remarked that it sounds like he’s speaking second language – like he’s a tourist or recent arrival here. His conversations are more stilted and formal. There are more pauses and confused expressions. And much like an Ellis Island alum, he communicates through rather imperfect English. It’s not baby talk and his diction is quite good, but he mixes up his prepositions and tenses like an immigrant mixes his metaphors.
Just today at the pool when the the lifeguard called “Break!” he looked at me and said, “time to get out Mom, the pool is breaking.”
I imagine Cousin Larry Appleton and I could share many a laugh over these little gems. It’s funny! It’s adorable. And it’s worth documenting and remembering.
He’s something else.
He’s quite a character.
Now don’t get me wrong. We are doing everything we can to help him improve his communication skills so he’ll eventually catch up with his peers and engage in more intuitive, spontaneous conversation. And he’s making some amazing progress with both existing and new therapies this summer. But we’re certainly not in a holding pattern, waiting for the results.
We enjoy every day with Oliver. We think he’s spectacular. We couldn’t imagine life without him. Exactly the way he is.
“The way he is” has changed quite a bit over the past year and continues to do so at a rate that even I – the eternal optimist when it comes to Oliver’s potential – wouldn’t have dreamed possible. And just like a parent does with a typically developing child, I’m simultaneously thrilled and grieved by his advances. Probably a bit less of the latter since these changes are triumphs that can’t be taken for granted. But what can I say? I’m a mother. I miss my babies as much as I admire the people they are becoming.
Because we really do focus so much on helping Oliver gain skills, this is a common topic of conversation with people close to our family. And in that conversation, people sometimes say rather thoughtless things.
I typically try to hear these things as they are intended and don’t take offense – but I have to admit to one exception. On several occasions, different people have made a reference to “fixing Oliver.” As in, “once we get him fixed…“
I KNOW that this isn’t supposed to be degrading to my son as a person, but I can’t help it…it upsets me. And I can’t just say “ah well – semantics!” and move on. Because I know that on some level these same people do consider him defective. Broken.
And I’m not faulting them for that because technically, they aren’t entirely wrong. But I don’t take the same broad perspective. I don’t see him as needing to be fixed – I see delays or disconnects that need to be addressed. He’s not broken, but he’s different. And it’s holding him back. And we can help him.
But I don’t think we help Oliver by seeing him as a thing that needs to be repaired. Because there is one area in which he is incredibly advanced. He is very aware of how he is perceived. He feels our disappointment, our dissatisfaction, our displeasure. He knows when he fails – even if he doesn’t know why. And the wounded look in his eyes tears my heart to pieces.
My son is not a vacuum cleaner or a DVD player. He’s not useless until repaired.
Even if he didn’t make one single advance in therapy this year, he’d be just as precious – just as loved. He is kind and intelligent. He’s funny and full of charisma. He challenges us and teaches us. And he makes me a far better person than I ever would have been without him. He’s helped to heal many of my own broken pieces. He’s mended cracks and made me feel whole. And I would never dare to presume that he is any less for his differences.
So I marvel over what a beautiful boy I have and enjoy big belly laughs over his quirks and crazy English. And I hope that even if he does get fixed in the end – and no one would ever know that he was once “broken” – he’ll still retain some of his otherness. Because it’s the nicks and cracks – the rough edges and battle scars – the unique imperfections – that show our depth of character.
My Childhood in Pictures
There is something about old birthday party pictures that really transport you back. My Dad has been scanning old slides and periodically sends me images – some of which I either don’t remember or have never seen before.
These seem to be from my fifth birthday party:
So “old school birthday party”… Just a bunch of kids sitting around a dining room table eating homemade cake. No theme – no germ encrusted ball pit – just fancy party dresses and dime store presents.
My favorite detail is the floral centerpiece. Only my mother… Though in her defense, it looks like a silk one that was always on the table.
Bonus pictures! Remember the hippity hop?
They’re still around (I believe people call them “hop balls” now?). But not with horse heads!
And check out my brother’s awesome pants. Men’s pants have a serious presence in these old photos… I’m kind of tempted to do a post celebrating my father’s 1970s collection. It was epic.
But I must say, Mom gave him a run for his money now and again…
…and she wins by a hat!