A Time for Dancing

I have been partaking in a lot of dance parties lately: I turn up the music in the apartment, or at work, or in the car ... and Harrison and I dance our socks off together. Jeremy joins in when he’s around, or he is the instigator in the first place, and the space we are in is immediately filled with shared laughter and pure joy.

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Here’s the deal- I used to be so hesitant to move around in any way that signified “trying to dance.” I am so not coordinated enough in my own body to make movement that looks like any commercial or creative form of beauty. Dances in middle school and high school were extra awkward because I literally didn’t know what to do. Weddings found me standing on the sidelines until coerced to join the party or until there was enough bubbly flowing. I didn’t have the confidence in me to put myself out there and find freedom in my movement. 

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I married a man who can DANCE. Seriously you guys, if you haven’t seen Jer on the dance floor, you are missing out on something amazing. I’ve always admired his ability to just get out there and do it, it’s something that drew me to him in our early years. He’s creative, he’s coordinated, he has control over his body in ways I don’t understand, and he has so much fun doing it. For a long while, that made me feel even more self-conscious about my “dancing.” We were not quite compatible in that department. I do have my “moves,” and those who know me well can attest to them. I’ve taken Liz Lemon’s Microwave and made it my own, my Cup Dance is pretty great, and if you’re one of a lucky few, you’ve seen my Timberdoodle (reference here and here and here, for starters).

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I’ve been in childcare for so many years. I volunteered at a foster home in China, I worked at a day care, I’ve done nursery and preschool in church, I’ve been babysitting for as long as I remember, and I’ve held a slew of full-time nannying jobs, including the one I have right now. And now of course I am a mother as well to my sweet, wild, uninhibited little Kozling. So I’ve actually been instigating dance parties for years and years ... in the comfort of my home or others, with no other adults around, letting myself be uninhibited alongside the toddlers I’m watching. They have so much freedom in their movement. So much un-coordination as well. Enough to make me feel okay about myself, hah. They’ll flail around and fall on the floor or run in to each other and just keep moving, just keep dancing. Joyously, fearlessly. And so I do the same with them. 

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I went to a wedding a few weeks ago and there was dancing at the reception. I surprised both myself and my husband by confidently striding straight to the dance floor and letting loose without a second thought. None of my signature moves- as they come out when I’m feeling awkward and need something to laugh at- but rather just simple freedom in movement, and joy in the moment. And it was so much fun you guys.

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The other day at work I was having a moment that was some combination of boring and stressful. When you’re in someone else’s home for 9.5 hours a day with two kids under two and a dog who you love but are at odds with, there are days when those moments can be frequent. I took a second in that moment to connect my phone to a speaker and turn on some music. Harrison’s eyes lit up and he started bobbing up and down to the beat. The baby started laughing while she watched Harrison dance. I picked her up and the three of us spun around the living room, uninhibited as could be, smiling and giggling and feeling perfectly free. The stress and boredom disappeared in that instant and I felt so full of happiness, elation even. 

And it is with that happiness, that elation, that freedom, that I care no longer about my uncoordinated dance moves. They bring me to a mind space that feels good ... so watch out world- I'm here and I’m going to keep on dancing!

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Some of my and Harrison’s current favorite songs to dance to are Macklemore’s Glorious and Can’t Hold Us, Stereo Hearts by Gym Class Heroes featuring Adam Levine, and Nate Ruess’s Nothing Without Love. We also dance to our fair share of The Beatles, since Harrison’s name wasn’t inspired by just anyone.

Parenting Gently

Harrison is teething and overtired and decides to bite me.
1. “Oww! No biting!”
2. “Are your gums bothering you? I can’t let you bite Mama, but here is something you can bite.” (Teething necklace, toy, etc.)

Harrison is very excited and starts throwing his toys everywhere, with full force.
1. “Do not throw your toys. No throwing.”
2. “Wow, look how excited you are! These toys are not for throwing, but here is a ball you can throw.”

Harrison climbs on the table and I don’t want him there for safety reasons.
1. “Get off the table. No climbing.”
2. “Harrison you are getting so good at climbing. I’m going to take you off the table so you can climb this step stool.” (While closely watching him, of course.)

Harrison won’t follow my lead to go inside because he is having too much fun outside.
1. Pick Harrison up and bring him inside while he protests and tries to get out of my arms.
2. “You’re having a lot of fun out here. You don’t want to go inside. It’s hard to go inside when you want to stay outside. We need to go inside now. Will you walk inside by yourself, or should I carry you?”

Harrison grabs a toy from another child.
1. “No, you can’t have that, you need to share,” and grab it back out of his hands.
2. Observe; see if anyone is actually affected by what just took place. Tell them what is going on- “You took the toy from ___. ____ wanted the toy and now he is upset.” Let them work it out without interference as long as they don’t physically hurt each other.

Harrison is having a hard time with a diaper change and I cannot take care of it without forcing him down.
1. Physically restrain him and get the diaper on as quickly as possible.
2. “You are being squirmy. You don’t want your diaper changed right now. Let’s wait a few minutes until you are ready.”

Harrison falls down and starts to cry.
1. “You’re ok.”
2. “You fell down. That scared you. Did it hurt? It’s okay to cry.”

Harrison falls on the floor in a crying, yelling, flailing tantrum.
1. “Oh Harrison, you’re okay. I’ll be in the other room (ignoring you) until you calm down.”
2. “Those are some big feelings you’re expressing. You’re upset because _____. I’ll sit here with you and help you with your feelings.”

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Some typical day-to-day experiences with a toddler. The first set of responses is what most of us, myself included, have learned from our parents, their parents, and their parents, etc. They are what Jeremy and I have been working hard to unlearn over these past seventeen months.

The second set of responses is how Jeremy and I are trying to parent Harrison. To give him the opportunity to realize his feelings and experience them. To teach him that if he says “no,” there is merit to that word. To allow him the opportunity to explore his world without shame. Clearly there is also no room for physical discipline or for any sort of cry-it-out method here. (A can of worms that perhaps I’ll write my thoughts on another time.)

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I first learned about gentle parenting through Mayim Bialik’s book “Beyond the Sling.” In this phenomenal book she has a chapter on gentle parenting. I read it in the early months of parenting newborn Harrison and it was hard for me to understand at first, but I was very drawn toward it. It is so different than anything I knew of parenting, but it made so much sense. I didn’t want to stifle Harrison in his emotional growth, and authoritative parenting felt like just that.

I did some research and found Janet Lansbury, and have never looked back.

I’m still unlearning and learning, and will be forever I’m sure. There is a line between gentle parenting and permissive parenting and I am still learning where it is. I have my good days and the days that are so difficult. Gentle parenting takes so much patience. Parenting takes so much patience. Sometimes the idea of just saying NO and removing Harrison completely from whatever he is doing in one quick motion feels so much easier. And when I feel that way, I take a deep breath and consider who it is easier for. And then I move forward gently. Or I forget to take that deep breath and the end result startles Harrison to the core and I spend the next ten minutes emotionally undoing my ungentle knee-jerk reaction.

Daily I see Harrison responding positively to the application of gentle parenting. Events that have the potential to become battles and meltdowns often fizzle out after he’s had a moment to process with me or Jer. He gets his crazy toddler energy out without hurting himself or things around him.

There is worlds more than this simple blog post, but I’m going to leave it at this for now. As I learn more and become more passionate about raising our children gently, perhaps I’ll have more words to share. Until then, Janet Lansbury’s Facebook page is a fantastic place to start if you’re curious to read more.

I think that now more than ever we need to be giving our children the tools to process through their emotions rather than shut them down, to deal with conflict healthily instead of expecting it to magically disappear, and to be absolutely certain that if they say “no,” they should expect to be listened to.

These Days

These days have been full of highs and lows. A stomach bug that’s just enough to be bothersome and downright painful at times but not enough to justify time off of work or real life. A night out with Jer while Harrison was with a babysitter, for the first time in almost a year. A scar on Harrison’s cheek turns in to a deep dimple every time he smiles and while dimples are cute, it makes me sad and perhaps is contributing to my stomach unease. A potential client for my nonexistent doula business; if she goes in to labor and the stars align with my schedule I can assist her through her hopeful natural twin birth. My Instant Pot being used almost daily, the answer to hardboiled eggs with easy-to-peel shells, eating meat again for the first time in a while, Dal on repeat, cooking beans in the summertime without turning on the stove. Figuring out travel plans and budgeting for wedding after wedding, so many people dear to my heart who have found their person. Walking for miles and miles around Culver City every day, passing the time while watching two children and a dog. Finding friends to spend time with and being active in making sure I actually have friends, feeling lonely in the process. Feeling homesick, especially when my search for a babysitter comes up empty-handed time and time again, knowing that any member of my family would jump at a chance to watch Harrison, wishing he was growing up with a relationship with them. Learning to identify my feelings and lean in to them and accepting that my small feelings are just as valid as my large feelings. Noticing the ties between labeling my emotions and giving Harrison the space and tools to allow him to learn how to identify his. Giddy over this new book I bought, written by a late Doctor who speaks my language. Drinking more water because I love my new water bottle that Jer gifted me. The flip flops I wore at my wedding broke on Thursday night; I haven’t tossed them yet but I’m thankful for the joy they’ve brought me all these years. Finally finding shoes that fit Harrison-two pairs!- thanks to hand-me-downs from a friend, and the shoes that took three weeks to arrive from China. Enjoying watching my kitties enjoy their new cat tree- a birthday present from my Mom that just keeps on giving. Laughing and frustrated that none of the cats seem to enjoy the exact same wet food, happy that we have room in the budget for said food. Letting go of making allll the things from scratch and giving myself more time to relax. I could buy a pound of good butter and make ghee, or I can buy ghee for just a few dollars more and an hour saved. I still don’t have much downtime, but it’s a step in the right direction. Keeping an eye out for the sports promo Harrison booked and shot back in July, now that it is football season. Maybe telling key people more details so they can help me keep an eye out too. Doing all things digital primarily on my phone as all of our electronics have slowly died, wondering if I can justify making this purchase. Or this one? Pining for the real outdoors, as Harrison explores the concrete jungle outside our apartment, skinning his knees on dirty sidewalks and breathing in the smog. Being surprised by our neighbors with an extremely out of character kind gesture, and rolling my eyes as they’ve gone straight back to the character that I’ve learned of them over the past 3.5 years. Bracing myself for extreme summer weather in October, instead of letting it surprise me like every other year. Wearing my harem pants to bed and then to work the next day, because they are comfy, and because I can. Letting Harrison play with my phone on occasion, on airplane mode, listening to music. Letting him purposefully watch his first video. Playing more violin lately and enjoying it, intending to re-learn the song I let Harrison watch. Taking all the good with all the mundane and difficult, and trying to appreciate the learning that life is offering me right now.

Harrison's Shoes

Harrison has only one pair of shoes that he's actively worn since learning how to walk. We bought them from a vendor on the side of the street at a fun neighborhood event called CicLaVia. Harrison was >thisclose< to walking independently and we decided we Needed these shoes because they were made by a work at home mom and are/were adorable soft-soled leather moccasins with a fun pattern sewn in cotton on the top.

He tore through the cotton upper in no time, since he was still crawling a lot, but Jer sewed it back together and the shoes remained functional and still cute, just a bit weathered.

We went to the park a few months ago and he played hard in the sand at a water table and the shoes became so dirty and wet and unrecognizable that I left them in the car for a few days, annoyed that we had let that happen. Then I cleaned them off the best I could and Harrison continued to wear them- dirty and weathered but they were still shoes.

Sometime between then and now, Harrison has proven to be a lover of shoes.  One of his craziest melt-downs to date was brought to surface when my one pair of high heels wouldn't stay on his feet. He constantly puts his feet in my shoes, Jer's shoes, friend's shoes. He gets very, very excited when I tell him it's time to put his shoes on. I started to feel bad that his one pair was becoming so battered, but I suppose all the same it did show how much they were loved.

Over the past few weeks his toes have been wearing holes through the front and this week the shoes could barely be called functional. I reached out to people who think similarly to me and found a few brands of soft-soled shoes that had good reviews, and finally ordered Harrison's second pair of shoes on Sunday.

Then on Wednesday I realized he needed new shoes sooner than the two week(?!) shipping on the pair of my choice. So I Amazon-Primed a different pair, figuring that the variety would be good anyway, and eagerly awaited Friday- new shoes day.

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It's been a weird week. Harrison has been slightly sick with a cough and mild fever, and on top of that an event on Tuesday led him to receive a puncture wound to his cheek. I've been at odds with myself, and with the cause and the damage all week. An endless trail of thoughts all leading to wishing I would have/could have prevented it. Reliving the moments it happened every time I look at him. Stressing about his environment so that it won't happen again or something worse.

I'm taking care of the wound with alternative medicine, while keeping an active eye on it and second guessing myself every step of the way. I broke down and used some Neosporin last night, more an act of fear than anything else. He can't tell me how he's truly feeling and I'm over-analyzing every move he's making. It's looking better than it was, but he's my baby and it's a puncture wound. And so the doubting cycle continues and continues.

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Work yesterday was low key and enjoyable. The kids napped at separate times, which would normally frustrate me because it means I don't get a break, but I allowed myself the room to enjoy one-on-one time with each of them- and it truly was enjoyable.

In the early afternoon I told Harrison we were going for a walk. "Go get your shoes," I told him, "Bring them over here and I will put them in your feet." And off went my 16-month-old, searching for his worn-out shoes, finding them, bringing them over to me, and patiently allowing me to put them on his feet. His level of comprehension astounds me most days; it's so crazy how quickly they learn and understand.

I strapped the baby in the carrier, and had Griffey on his leash to the left of me and held Harrison's hand in my right hand, and we went on what I figured was our last walk with Harrison's fallen-apart shoes. And it was the sweetest walk. He actually held my hand for a good 15 minutes, and we easily lazed our way down the road, pointing at whatever looked exciting, passing the time just existing all together. We ended up in front of a house with wind-chimes, and Harrison stood there enthralled for a good ten minutes, listening for the chimes and doing his form of dancing any time he heard them. I felt free in and so relished the sweet, unscripted moments.

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We arrived home after work to find the package containing new shoes(!) I unwrapped them, Harrison sitting next to me, and I made a small big deal about how they were new shoes just for him. I sat him on the table so I could put them on for him ... and then I struggled to get his (beautiful) fat feet through the elastic opening and on his foot well. I persevered and he was patient with me and he eventually had both shoes on his feet. He went running off into the other room, and then came running back out, with a big smile on his face, staring down at his feet with those new shoes on. I took them off after about a half hour, and noticed the elastic had left a too-deep groove all around his ankles. 

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I think I was hoping Harrison's new shoes would bring everything full circle. He woke up yesterday morning with the puncture wound looking better, we had our idyllic last walk in his old shoes, the whole day felt zen-like. But we got home and I became concerned again about his cheek, and then his new shoes didn't fit, and I think I'm going to return them. 

So here I am, essentially (new) shoe-less and still worried about my baby's health. Not all hope is lost, and I have confidence for healing, but at the time of writing this, there is no pretty little package with a bow on top (if there were, I'm hopeful it would contain shoes that fit.) Here's to tomorrow, one day closer to the full-circle.

Tales of an Unpracticed Violinist

A few months ago the summer Hollywood Bowl schedule was released and I found one night I wanted to go to more than any of the rest. Joshua Bell was playing Édouard Lalo's Symphonie Espagnole with the LA Philharmonic. I've had the opportunity to see Joshua Bell perform before, also at the Bowl, on a laid-back night called "Joshua Bell with Friends" a few years ago. He interacted with the audience a lot that night, and it was such a delight to see his personality alongside his professional persona. I admire how laid-back he appears to be, rather than the cliched uptight classical musician aura that many in his craft give off. And that he was to be playing this beautiful song- one that I have played part of and can consider it the highest level song I've ever mastered in my violin playing prime in college- that sealed it- I wanted to be at that concert. I needed to be there. But I let life, or the idea of life, get in the way and never purchased tickets (8pm in Hollywood on a work night, Harrison's bedtime, paying for parking, sitting in traffic, what have you.)

Thankfully life had different plans. On my way to work one morning last week, I was listening to the local classical music station, KUSC (my usual morning drive routine), and I heard a quick ad for a contest called "#MyFavoriteMistake." The prize for this contest was tickets to the very concert I wanted to attend, along with a signed CD, and an illustrated children's book based on Joshua Bell's favorite mistake. The grand prize also included a meet and greet with Mr. Bell himself (spoiler alert- I didn't win the grand prize.) To enter, I needed to write about my favorite mistake. I could have done so on social media (hence the hashtag in the contest name), but I was boring and submitted it through the KUSC website. Here is my submission:

In middle school and high school it was always a big deal every year to audition for county and state orchestras and have the opportunity to play with musicians from other schools in the area. The auditions were blind auditions, so the judge's backs were to you the whole time.

One year, I was in the middle of my sight-reading audition (and so already a bundle of nerves- who enjoys being scored on sight reading?), and I somehow dropped my bow in the middle of the exercise.

Inwardly, my mind started racing, I got more nervous, and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't get any direction from the judges since they weren't allowed to look at me.

I kept my cool on the outside, walked over to pick up my bow, and continued playing as if nothing had happened.

As it turns out, my orchestra teacher was one of the judges in the room during my audition. Later that day when I lamented to her my thoughts that I ruined the audition, given my mistake, she told me that all the judges were actually very impressed with the way I collected myself and kept playing. A week later I found out that even with dropping my bow, my scores were high enough that year to sit in the first violin section.

This memory is always a special one to look back on; it shows me that the way you react to a mistake leaves far more of an impression than the mistake itself. A consideration worth remembering in every part of my life!

So, fast forward to Sunday evening and I found out I was one of the winners! No grand prize meeting Joshua Bell, but I got to go to the concert and be inspired by his musicianship while hearing him play one of my favorite songs with the LA Phil, and the LA Phil bookended the Lalo piece with Stravinsky's Fireworks and Petrushka.

Sure, I drove to Hollywood in traffic, I parked at one of the most annoying tourist attractions in LA (Hollywood and Highland, blah), missed Harrison's bedtime for the very first time in his 16 months of life, and got less sleep than I should have for a work night- but of course none of those details ended up mattering. I had a lovely evening out with my good friend Emily and spent two hours immersing my senses into beautiful music.

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The idea that I think I at one point had the first movement of Symphonie Espagnole "mastered" is almost laughable after last night. Sure, I could hit all the notes, I played it at a decent tempo, and as with all my playing I played it with great passion, but I couldn't ever touch the musicality and precision and sheer ease of how I saw it performed last night. And of course not. He's Joshua Bell. I'm ... well, not no one, but I never have been and never will be in that playing field. A self-fulfilled prophecy, sure, but one that I am more than happy with, as my "professional musician" aspirations ended as quickly as they started. It's truly not the world for me, but I love to watch others who are a part of it. And engaging in that world as a spectator always washes me in a wave of inspiration, bringing forth memories of playing my violin and getting lost in the emotions of any particular piece of music, feeling connected to my Creator as a creator, playing my violin and feeling beauty in those moments. And you can bet I will be taking my violin out again more often in the coming weeks (maybe another episode of "Playing out of tune with a toddler and a cat?")

And so I'll play in my world- not that of a professional musician, but that of an unpracticed violinist, trained classically and playing with my own form of laid-back strength, not precise, but simple and emotive. My brand of playing over the years has turned in to part classical, part fiddle, part gypsy magic (if I may?) I don't really follow rules when I play anymore, and I'll just keep being me.

Thanks, Joshua Bell, for giving me these realizations to mull over, and the inspiration to play some more. Thanks KUSC for the opportunity to engage in the professional music world when I failed to give myself the opportunity. Let's do it again next week, haha. Let's keep the inspiration coming!