Monday, January 30, 2012
Launch of Safe4Athletes
The organization I've been working with - safe4athletes - officially launched last week. Take a look at this story in the Huffington Post. And a reminder, if you can give anything at all to support our cause, we appreciate it.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Kids Meet Boyfriend
I find myself tackling a situation I never thought I'd have to tackle in my life. Introducing my kids to my boyfriend. Oy. I didn't think my kids would ever have to see me "with" a man other than their father. I didn't even HOPE for that. I just assumed it. It wasn't a fully formed thought because it was unnecessary. It just was. We were a family (albeit an unhappy one). We chose each other (the parents, not the kids). We were a unit. Well...that's not where I find myself these days.
It has caused me no small degree of disquiet, butterflies, angst, hesitation... the thought of introducing first the idea of mom having a boyfriend to my boys, and then the actual boyfriend himself. But it was important to me to be straightforward and honest with them in as much as is reasonable with children. To not bring some dude around - unexplained. That would be more confusing for them, was my line of thinking. Who's this dude looking at my mom with googly eyes? Who's this guy holding mom's hand? Nah. Not for me.
The "experts" say: introduce the concept of a man before the reality of one. I screwed that up. They met him once or twice as my friend. It had seemed to go well. But now I had to come clean.
Since I screwed the pooch on the expert recommendation and I haven't followed a lot of the rules so far, I found a slightly different way that worked for me. With a hefty dose of jitters and an even heftier dose of gumption, and just a moderate dose of composure, I raised the subject with them over the holidays. After an afternoon at the Contemporary Jewish Museum learning about Harry Houdini's inconceivable, utterly magical capers, we sat down for a mid-afternoon snack of cream puffs and hot chocolate. I worked up my nerve. I almost didn't do it. But then, as I approach all things, I forged ahead, the decision having been made.
"So...I have to talk to you guys about something."
"Ok mom, what's up," asks Virgil.
"Well...mom got asked on a date!" Big forced smile, too much teeth. Transition to nose scrunched, eyebrows raised in the form of a question.
Their eyes go wide. "Yeah. Who is he? When is it? Where are you going?" Alternating questions. Practical to the end.
"Well we already went. His name is Steven. Remember him? You met him. Not the gay one. The other one. We've gone on a few dates already and I like him."
Silence. But no crying.
"He has three kids," I offer. Something in their wheelhouse. Dating, especially mid-life post divorced dating, perhaps a tad beyond their grasp.
"Oh! Can we meet them? How old are they?" asks Wyatt.
"Sure. Soon."
Back to the cream puffs. I need to push ahead. I'm not quite done my pronouncement. I'm trying to open the door to an introduction. To the fact that he's probably going to be around quite a bit.
"How would you feel if he became my boyfriend, maybe one day?"
"That's cool." Punctuated with his pleaser smile, says Virgil.
"You too, Wyatt? Cool?"
"Sure. What should we do now? Can we watch a movie tonight?"
Ok so that went fine. Are they processing? Do they just not want to talk about it? Is it truly no big deal because nearly half their friends have step parents? The concept of reconfigured families is not foreign to them. Just leave it alone, Jen. You raised it, introduced the idea. We can talk more later. Bits and pieces, bits and pieces. The story will add up with time.
So that was that. Easy peasy. Since then, they've seen him several times. They met his kids yesterday for an afternoon at Malibu Grand Prix racetrack (video games, go carts, miniature golf). Surely the fun of the day made it all that much easier. While the kids were shy at first, checking each other out, they were poking at each other by the end of the afternoon.
Is it possible this could go smoothly? My therapist tells me that it is not at all uncommon for a boyfriend to be graciously and enthusiastically accepted by the kids. He says generally the issues arise when mom picks a douche bag (my word, not his). Which makes sense. If you pick a nice guy, why wouldn't the kids be like: ok. He's nice. What do you want to do now?
And here we are. Boyfriend idea introduced. Boyfriend himself introduced. Kids not losing their minds, in fact quite the opposite. And so, the situation I never thought I'd find myself in, I am in.
And all is fine.
It has caused me no small degree of disquiet, butterflies, angst, hesitation... the thought of introducing first the idea of mom having a boyfriend to my boys, and then the actual boyfriend himself. But it was important to me to be straightforward and honest with them in as much as is reasonable with children. To not bring some dude around - unexplained. That would be more confusing for them, was my line of thinking. Who's this dude looking at my mom with googly eyes? Who's this guy holding mom's hand? Nah. Not for me.
The "experts" say: introduce the concept of a man before the reality of one. I screwed that up. They met him once or twice as my friend. It had seemed to go well. But now I had to come clean.
Since I screwed the pooch on the expert recommendation and I haven't followed a lot of the rules so far, I found a slightly different way that worked for me. With a hefty dose of jitters and an even heftier dose of gumption, and just a moderate dose of composure, I raised the subject with them over the holidays. After an afternoon at the Contemporary Jewish Museum learning about Harry Houdini's inconceivable, utterly magical capers, we sat down for a mid-afternoon snack of cream puffs and hot chocolate. I worked up my nerve. I almost didn't do it. But then, as I approach all things, I forged ahead, the decision having been made.
"So...I have to talk to you guys about something."
"Ok mom, what's up," asks Virgil.
"Well...mom got asked on a date!" Big forced smile, too much teeth. Transition to nose scrunched, eyebrows raised in the form of a question.
Their eyes go wide. "Yeah. Who is he? When is it? Where are you going?" Alternating questions. Practical to the end.
"Well we already went. His name is Steven. Remember him? You met him. Not the gay one. The other one. We've gone on a few dates already and I like him."
Silence. But no crying.
"He has three kids," I offer. Something in their wheelhouse. Dating, especially mid-life post divorced dating, perhaps a tad beyond their grasp.
"Oh! Can we meet them? How old are they?" asks Wyatt.
"Sure. Soon."
Back to the cream puffs. I need to push ahead. I'm not quite done my pronouncement. I'm trying to open the door to an introduction. To the fact that he's probably going to be around quite a bit.
"How would you feel if he became my boyfriend, maybe one day?"
"That's cool." Punctuated with his pleaser smile, says Virgil.
"You too, Wyatt? Cool?"
"Sure. What should we do now? Can we watch a movie tonight?"
Ok so that went fine. Are they processing? Do they just not want to talk about it? Is it truly no big deal because nearly half their friends have step parents? The concept of reconfigured families is not foreign to them. Just leave it alone, Jen. You raised it, introduced the idea. We can talk more later. Bits and pieces, bits and pieces. The story will add up with time.
So that was that. Easy peasy. Since then, they've seen him several times. They met his kids yesterday for an afternoon at Malibu Grand Prix racetrack (video games, go carts, miniature golf). Surely the fun of the day made it all that much easier. While the kids were shy at first, checking each other out, they were poking at each other by the end of the afternoon.
Is it possible this could go smoothly? My therapist tells me that it is not at all uncommon for a boyfriend to be graciously and enthusiastically accepted by the kids. He says generally the issues arise when mom picks a douche bag (my word, not his). Which makes sense. If you pick a nice guy, why wouldn't the kids be like: ok. He's nice. What do you want to do now?
And here we are. Boyfriend idea introduced. Boyfriend himself introduced. Kids not losing their minds, in fact quite the opposite. And so, the situation I never thought I'd find myself in, I am in.
And all is fine.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Short and sweet or long and boring?
Maybe I need to revert to pithier posts. I see that I am a tad long winded. Perhaps shorter would be better.
There. Short and sweet. But kind of unfulfilling.
There. Short and sweet. But kind of unfulfilling.
Calm Personified
One week into the new year and I am steeped in calm. This is an almost overwhelmingly new feeling for me. It's been building for some time. I have remained relatively unflappable in the face of a very difficult work year. Perhaps flappability can only be aimed in one direction at a time and my life with my children without my husband had me 'flapped' in the last 16 months. The chaos on the personal side brought a new and welcome objectivity and serenity to my approach to work. Who has room in their heart and brain for chaos all around? Which doesn't mean I didn't care. I care. I care a lot. But I could look challenge square in the eye, weigh the pros and cons of various approaches and decide. I could tackle contentious professional relationships with the maturity of... well, of a recently divorced mother of two who knows what really matters.
So as my personal life has calmed - the hurt hurts less, the sting of failure transforms into the hope of a new opportunity for happiness, the guilt diffuses and is replaced with the knowing that every stone was turned in this particular marriage and the loneliness subsides and is taken over by sheer gratitude to be able to hear one's own thoughts (for more on this read Dominique Brownings great piece in the NYT today called Alone Again, Naturally... far better put than I could put it myself) - the work calm Jen has infused the real life Jen's approach. (Boy that was too long of a sentence. My apologies.) What I'm saying is this. My life blew up. I handled work with aplomb. What choice did I have, really? I got seriously objective and calm in the face of any storm while I waged the stormy waters at home. And now, I have brought that learned calm to my personal life. Whew. I should have started there.
Finding a lovely, fun, funny, charming and caring man to share dinners, days at the beach (however freezing a Northern California beach may be), movies and conversation with doesn't hurt. I truly had no idea the peaceful ballast that a relationship can actually provide. We are only three months in. We've had minor hiccups. But they were hiccups that could have been major belches that perhaps led to vomiting if not handled with tenderness. An example: he felt uncomfortable that I was reluctant to share our burgeoning relationship with my kids just yet. I understood his discomfort. But that discomfort was not enough for me to violate my own. In the past, I would have put my discomfort aside. I would have done what made HIM comfortable. Which is fine sometimes. But not all the time. It can only lead to resentment long term. It was important for me to be strong in my assertions: Not Now. I am not ready. This was tough for me. But I did it. I shared that we were simply going to each have to be Ok with the fact that we were both a bit uncomfortable right now. And keep going. He accepted that.
I also explained my growing concern that there was an ultimatum waiting for me around every dark corner. This was particularly difficult for me to say. It sounds mean. I don't want to be mean. I assumed the response would be anger. A snap back. Defensiveness. Nope. Here's what I got: That must feel awful. I don't want you to feel that way. Huh? Who are you and what have you done with your manly need to strike back with equal parts venom? Not that I was spewing venom, but I'm accustomed to being perceived as a nasty venom spewer. And I've been one at times, no doubt.
This response was a clincher for me. We had a rocky conversation. We both heard each other. We both stayed very calm despite not necessarily getting the answers that made us each more comfortable. And we agreed - at my request - to not talk about the state of the relationship for a bit. Rather to just have it. We agreed on 6 weeks which we've not really adhered to. But the mere act of taking the foot off of that gas pedal has actually, somehow, magically, accelerated the relationship car. Terrible analogy. I apologize. Boy I'm a mess today with the linguistic stylings.
Point here is he adds to the peace and calm I feel. He doesn't create chaos on the home front. We're not the same in all ways. We're not the same in a lot of ways. He's a science-y, computer-y, bird watching self-avowed nerd that likes living in the woods and who prays several times a day. He has three sweet, intelligent kids who all seem a bit younger than their years. He's expressive and warm and friendly and likes to laugh. I'm a city girl, with a big shoe collection and two potty mouthed children with sensitive hearts, crazy hair and big giant brains. I am not so great at math, am useless on a computer or with anything IT-y but I am a writer, reader and lover of words and a seriously ambitious driver in my corporate work life. And I am ok with those things. Now. (I was incredibly ashamed of my competitiveness and ambition for a very long time.) It doesn't work because we are the same. It works - in these very early days - because we appreciate the other's differences, want to learn about the things the other is interested in, admire rather than fault certain defining characteristics. If we can maintain that, we might be on to something.
I know better than anyone I'm in no position to call this yet. I was married for 12 years, with him for 17 and was truly deeply in love. It's important to me not to revise history in this regard. It isn't that, in hindsight, I didn't love him. I did. But we had foibles that clashed in a dangerous manner for both of us. And the damage we were doing to each other's psyches was overflowing into our home which had two kids in it. And we made the right choice to end our marriage before more damage was done. I never would have thought that this is what would've happened when I walked down the aisle with him and looked up (way up...he's 6'8") into his eyes at the altar. I was filled with absolute certainty. I had no hesitation on that day. And here I am. See what I knew? Nothing.
I am hyper cognizant now that all I can do is enjoy the day, be kind in the moment, appreciate kindnesses offered back to me. And not predict the future. And I am oh so appreciative of the calm. I won't give it up for anything.
So as my personal life has calmed - the hurt hurts less, the sting of failure transforms into the hope of a new opportunity for happiness, the guilt diffuses and is replaced with the knowing that every stone was turned in this particular marriage and the loneliness subsides and is taken over by sheer gratitude to be able to hear one's own thoughts (for more on this read Dominique Brownings great piece in the NYT today called Alone Again, Naturally... far better put than I could put it myself) - the work calm Jen has infused the real life Jen's approach. (Boy that was too long of a sentence. My apologies.) What I'm saying is this. My life blew up. I handled work with aplomb. What choice did I have, really? I got seriously objective and calm in the face of any storm while I waged the stormy waters at home. And now, I have brought that learned calm to my personal life. Whew. I should have started there.
Finding a lovely, fun, funny, charming and caring man to share dinners, days at the beach (however freezing a Northern California beach may be), movies and conversation with doesn't hurt. I truly had no idea the peaceful ballast that a relationship can actually provide. We are only three months in. We've had minor hiccups. But they were hiccups that could have been major belches that perhaps led to vomiting if not handled with tenderness. An example: he felt uncomfortable that I was reluctant to share our burgeoning relationship with my kids just yet. I understood his discomfort. But that discomfort was not enough for me to violate my own. In the past, I would have put my discomfort aside. I would have done what made HIM comfortable. Which is fine sometimes. But not all the time. It can only lead to resentment long term. It was important for me to be strong in my assertions: Not Now. I am not ready. This was tough for me. But I did it. I shared that we were simply going to each have to be Ok with the fact that we were both a bit uncomfortable right now. And keep going. He accepted that.
I also explained my growing concern that there was an ultimatum waiting for me around every dark corner. This was particularly difficult for me to say. It sounds mean. I don't want to be mean. I assumed the response would be anger. A snap back. Defensiveness. Nope. Here's what I got: That must feel awful. I don't want you to feel that way. Huh? Who are you and what have you done with your manly need to strike back with equal parts venom? Not that I was spewing venom, but I'm accustomed to being perceived as a nasty venom spewer. And I've been one at times, no doubt.
This response was a clincher for me. We had a rocky conversation. We both heard each other. We both stayed very calm despite not necessarily getting the answers that made us each more comfortable. And we agreed - at my request - to not talk about the state of the relationship for a bit. Rather to just have it. We agreed on 6 weeks which we've not really adhered to. But the mere act of taking the foot off of that gas pedal has actually, somehow, magically, accelerated the relationship car. Terrible analogy. I apologize. Boy I'm a mess today with the linguistic stylings.
Point here is he adds to the peace and calm I feel. He doesn't create chaos on the home front. We're not the same in all ways. We're not the same in a lot of ways. He's a science-y, computer-y, bird watching self-avowed nerd that likes living in the woods and who prays several times a day. He has three sweet, intelligent kids who all seem a bit younger than their years. He's expressive and warm and friendly and likes to laugh. I'm a city girl, with a big shoe collection and two potty mouthed children with sensitive hearts, crazy hair and big giant brains. I am not so great at math, am useless on a computer or with anything IT-y but I am a writer, reader and lover of words and a seriously ambitious driver in my corporate work life. And I am ok with those things. Now. (I was incredibly ashamed of my competitiveness and ambition for a very long time.) It doesn't work because we are the same. It works - in these very early days - because we appreciate the other's differences, want to learn about the things the other is interested in, admire rather than fault certain defining characteristics. If we can maintain that, we might be on to something.
I know better than anyone I'm in no position to call this yet. I was married for 12 years, with him for 17 and was truly deeply in love. It's important to me not to revise history in this regard. It isn't that, in hindsight, I didn't love him. I did. But we had foibles that clashed in a dangerous manner for both of us. And the damage we were doing to each other's psyches was overflowing into our home which had two kids in it. And we made the right choice to end our marriage before more damage was done. I never would have thought that this is what would've happened when I walked down the aisle with him and looked up (way up...he's 6'8") into his eyes at the altar. I was filled with absolute certainty. I had no hesitation on that day. And here I am. See what I knew? Nothing.
I am hyper cognizant now that all I can do is enjoy the day, be kind in the moment, appreciate kindnesses offered back to me. And not predict the future. And I am oh so appreciative of the calm. I won't give it up for anything.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
A New Year's Day NOT hungover!
I am starting this year filled with gratitude. A change for me! I am waking up NOT hungover from a raucous New Year's Eve. With my beautiful, handsome, smart and clever children asleep in their rooms. I will take them to their father's later today and that will be ok. I won't freak out or panic or cry. I will drive my butt down to Los Gatos and spend the rest of the day with Steven and his 3 children. And all will be good.
I spent the evening last night at my friend Shannon's, welcoming in the New Year east coast time (9PST) with a roomful of children under the age of 10, grown up strangers (other than Shannon and her husband D), my kids and Steven. Lovely. There was dancing and poppers. The fun party kind that make loud noises not the gay sex kind (which is the kind of party I might have been attending in my younger years).
I came home at 10pm, kissed Steven good bye so he could ring in the actual PST new year with his kids and watched the ball drop with my boys. What could be better?
New Year's resolutions will begin tomorrow. There will be gym joining, a Weight Watchers sign up (just 5-10 pounds please?), some outlining of a book idea. Oh I'll be busy. And I can't wait.
Thank you to all my friends who were oh so patient with me this past year as I waded through the muck of my life. "Grief has it's own rate of decay" as I read in today's Modern Love column in the NYT and despite my best efforts to beat mine back with a stick, it was persistent in rearing it's head during unexpected moments. I'm sure there is more to come. But I am steady. And accepting that grief is part of it all. Well, until it knocks me on my ass again. Then I'm sure I'll have something less thoughtful to say about it.
Mostly thanks to my most awesome of boys. They are still and will forever be the best wild-haired, wild-eyed, knife wielding boys a mom and dad could ever ask for. And the very best party guests to ring in a new year filled with peace and hope and all good things. Love you guys all the much.
I spent the evening last night at my friend Shannon's, welcoming in the New Year east coast time (9PST) with a roomful of children under the age of 10, grown up strangers (other than Shannon and her husband D), my kids and Steven. Lovely. There was dancing and poppers. The fun party kind that make loud noises not the gay sex kind (which is the kind of party I might have been attending in my younger years).
I came home at 10pm, kissed Steven good bye so he could ring in the actual PST new year with his kids and watched the ball drop with my boys. What could be better?
New Year's resolutions will begin tomorrow. There will be gym joining, a Weight Watchers sign up (just 5-10 pounds please?), some outlining of a book idea. Oh I'll be busy. And I can't wait.
Thank you to all my friends who were oh so patient with me this past year as I waded through the muck of my life. "Grief has it's own rate of decay" as I read in today's Modern Love column in the NYT and despite my best efforts to beat mine back with a stick, it was persistent in rearing it's head during unexpected moments. I'm sure there is more to come. But I am steady. And accepting that grief is part of it all. Well, until it knocks me on my ass again. Then I'm sure I'll have something less thoughtful to say about it.
Mostly thanks to my most awesome of boys. They are still and will forever be the best wild-haired, wild-eyed, knife wielding boys a mom and dad could ever ask for. And the very best party guests to ring in a new year filled with peace and hope and all good things. Love you guys all the much.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)