Anniversaries

Time: 2AM last night
Scene: Our bedroom

[Ed is arriving home from work. I am half-asleep in bed (long story --- I am usually long asleep by the time Ed gets home). He lays down on our bed next to me and whispers in my ear....]

Ed: Jen, do you know what today is?

Jen: Oh no, not this game again....I think, while drawing a complete blank. August 25th....what happened on August 25th??? Come on, Brain!

Remember the Cosby Show when Claire is always testing Cliff's memory about their courtship? Well, in our relationship, I am Cliff to Ed's Claire.

Jen: Ummm....what Babes?

Ed: It's the 11th anniversary of our first kiss!

Jen: Of course it is! (slight sarcasm......because we have only kissed what.....a million more times in the past 11 years??? Although that first kiss sure was nice.)

A much more noteworthy anniversary would be our 10th wedding anniversary, coming up next week. I will work hard not to forget that one.

It is fun to tease Easy Ed about being the sentimental one in our relationship. But after eleven years together, I appreciate that he keeps those early milestones in our relationship alive. In our current life of kids, jobs and responsibilities oozing out at all ends, it is soothing to remember that once upon a time, for a very short chapter of our life together….it was just the two of us.

Exploring the Park Blocks....and later, Central Park, after work. Talking into the early morning hours at his Portland apartment....and then in our first little NYC apartment. Driving to the Oregon Coast to watch the sunset on a whim. Playing his guitar late into the night on rainy Eugene nights while I crammed for one business school test after another. Sharing hot dogs in Battery Park....trying to imagine what the rest of our life together would look like.

I hope we find ourselves back there again. We weren’t finished with that chapter.

'Cause I love him forever.

All of my many white people's problems

Sometimes when I complain, Easy Ed shoots me down. "That's a white person's problem," he'll answer. Meaning that there are people suffering a lot worse things than I am at that moment. Many of my problems are those born out of privilege. I laugh whenever Ed throws my whining back into my face with that phrase, but it has made me think carefully before I complain.

Here is a list of some of my recent "white person's problems" this week. These are things I either thought to myself or I actually said out loud:

"There is not enough room in the fridge for all of this food!"

"I am going to be way too tired to function at work after our weekend in Virginia Beach."

"We have way too much [of our investment portfolio in] cash. I don't know where to put our money right now!" (Yes, I actually said that.)

"I don't know whether to sign up Asher for Spanish class or piano lessons or both this fall."

"The boys have way too many clothes!"

"If we could only buy an iPad for everyone in the house...." C'mon....

"It is so annoying to volunteer at Noe's school. There are always way too many parent volunteers at each event."

"It's so unfair that we don't have a housecleaning service."

"I wish we could just take Noe and Asher to the same dentist. It would be sooo much easier."

"It sucks how much our car registration fees have gone up since we bought our new car."

"I wish the farmer's market four blocks from my house stayed open just a little later so I wouldn't have to rush over after work to buy all of their wonderful and fresh produce."

"I am going to be living in this place FOREVER!" (Place = 3 bed/2 ba newly updated townhouse in a safe and prosperous community, with awesome schools, and wonderful people.....POOR ME!)

Although I would not characterize all of our problems as "white" and we do have serious challenges in our lives, and I am not quite as superficial as it might appear from this post (hopefully), I am thankful for ALL of my white people's problems!

Mommy, I can do hard things.

We were riding bikes to the school playground, much as we do most summer nights when we aren't at the pool. Asher's chain came off his bike. I fixed it. Then a couple blocks later, again. The third time it fell off, I was busy wrangling Noe, making sure he made a left turn into the school yard instead of a right turn into oncoming traffic. When I finally made it back to help Asher, he was trying to fix the chain himself. My frustration was evident from my tone, "Move Asher....I'll fix it."

"But Mooom......I'm fixing it!"

"Asher it's too hard, let me do it!"

As I was kneeling down towards the chain, he took his little greasy hands in my face, looked me square in the eye and said, "Mommy, I can do hard things."

A phrase that I repeat to him often.

Many days I don't feel like I have much to offer Asher by way of being his mother. As difficult as learning is for Noe, it is that easy for Asher. I remember taking Noe to a developmental pediatrician a couple years back. Asher had to tag along with us. He had just turned three and spent the entire appointment reading books in a corner of the doctor's office. After listening to Asher read out loud, the doctor remarked how I had two children at two polar opposite ends of the learning spectrum. It stung a bit to hear, but it is true.

Every skill Noe has developed, we (we = Ed and I, plus our team of therapists) have consciously and painstakingly taught him. I remember the day he finally figured out how to use a straw, when he learned to pedal AND steer his bike, his first words, the first circle he drew by himself. For Noe, learning something new involves assessments, pages of data, strategy sessions with therapists, and months (sometimes years) of work. But it is exhilarating to see him finally succeed. Being Noe's mother is very hard, but at times, profoundly rewarding.

And Asher? I occasionally toss food his direction from the kitchen and try to stay clear of his flurry of activity and self-directed learning.

But when Asher repeated back my line about doing hard things, I finally realized my purpose as his mother. Surely things won't always be so easy for Asher. He will have challenges, he won't always be the smartest kid in his class, he will eventually lose some of his politician-swagger-in-a-six-year-old body. I don't always have answers for his questions anymore....(No Asher, I don't know if a Japanese beetle is nocturnal.) But, I CAN teach him to do the hard things in life.

And perhaps that will make all the difference.