Peace Love & Motherhood, B

For every caring, generous, love thy neighbor person in Davis, there is an equally irritating, know-it-all person that will make sure to tell you to put sunscreen on your kids or that your dogs should always be wearing their rabies tags when they are on a leash. This morning my youngest woke up with some sort of bug up her booty because by 7:15 am we were already on tantrum number four. For those of you unfamiliar with a tantrum (you must not have children) in my house it looks like dramatically throwing their bodies on the floor, simultaneously screaming and crying whilst flinging snot everywhere. Her final tantrum occurred because I wouldn’t let her put both of my wedding rings down the drain. Luckily my eldest was keeping it together so I calmly told Madeleine that I needed to take a step away and she could calm down in her crib.

Let me back up and tell you that our air conditioning has gone out completely and we will need to drop $5k on a new unit once the 30 people ahead of us on the waiting list get their units in. So naturally, all our windows were open to let in the cool Delta breeze thankfully we get in the mornings. I decided to take out the trash since a mother’s version of fresh air can only come with the lingering smell of baby poop and last night’s dinner. Standing just outside my front door was a woman I’d never seen before walking her yippy, romper-wearing chihuahuas and here verbatim was our conversation:

Me: “Hello.”

Her: “What’s going on up there?”

Me: “Oh my daughter is having a tantrum, so I am giving her a minute.”

Her: (Shaking her head and her finger at me) “It doesn’t sound ok.”

Me: “No she is fine. I have it under control.”

Her: “It sure doesn’t sound like you do.”

Me: I stood there stunned wearing my “Peace, Love & Motherhood” t-shirt, still gripping the trash bag. “Um. Ok well I will get her in a minute, don’t worry.”

Her: “I’m sure everybody says that.”

Me: Speechless.

It pains me to tell you that last week I lost my beloved friend and mentor who would have been the exact person I’d turn to in situations such as these--where I am being criticized by a complete stranger before I’ve even had my cup of coffee. I immediately walked inside garbage bag still in-hand and began to cry. I cried because I missed my friend, because like all mothers we already feel like we have an impossible task before us and we need cheerleaders, not critics and lastly I cried because my daughter was still screaming upstairs, which suddenly made me feel shameful. My oldest came over to me and asked, “Mommy are you sad?” I told her I was and that someone was rude to mommy and hurt my feelings. She hugged and kissed me and then since we were not filming a made for TV movie about feelings proceeded to root through the trash.

In that moment, I knew exactly what my mentor would tell me to do: ask for help and do something for others. So I picked up my phone and messaged a friend and reached out to my Fit4Mom village asking for support. Here are some of the gems I got in return:

“The general public can be so lovely sometimes. I sat down to get a pedicure yesterday and an older man next to me very rudely told me to be quiet, keep my voice down and talk softly because he was mediating. The only words I had spoken were to the pedicurist to show her where I had rolled my ankle and to please not touch it.”

“You are not alone. Tantrums are so tough. I hate that lady for you.”

“I’m seeing RED right now. If I wasn't on my way to work, I'd be hunting down that awful witch. You did the right thing, you are an incredible mama, and an inspiration to me EVERYDAY. I LOVE YOU.

“Cannot wait to read your revenge blog.”

Besides offering choice expletives there was offers to come over, bring me coffee and hugs, they all, the women that know me and have been alongside me in the trenches, complimented me on being a loving, strong mother. They say it takes a village to raise a child, I highly suggest you don’t mess with mine.

After my morning run with my girls and a playdate with my nieces, I spent nap time making lasagna for our village leader who just had her third baby and decided I better make some extra for my neighbors, just in case someone, like me, was having a rough day.

On any given day, you better believe mothers are doing the very best we can.

On any given day, you better believe mothers are doing the very best we can.

The Lost Art of Childhood

Nothing speaks to me more than the sound of sprinklers on a hot summer day. I get a flash of my childhood with my mouth directly attached to the hose guzzling up the delicious taste of watery pennies. Cut to 2017 and my children are drinking organic milk and water that has been triple filtered by Brita. Since our move to Davis, I’ve relished in the notion that by living here we are giving our children exactly what my husband and I had in spades: a childhood. There are bicycle paths for miles, parks with monkey bars and twisty slides and neighbors with kids who sell lemonade on the corner. In this new age of terror and fear, I fear we are taking from our little ones what is the most important part of being a kid and that is simply-- just being a kid!

While it is tempting to worry and be overly cautious- here are opportunities I promise to give my girls.

I want them to:

Play with the neighborhood kids on a cul-de-sac… (pause for gasp) in the street!

Ride bikes (with helmets) far enough away from us that we can still hear them laughing.

Explore in the backyard by making forts, foraging for worms and getting dirty!

Be naked in the summers while dancing through sprinklers and drinking water directly from the hose.

Watch Disney movies with their little faces one inch from the screen.

Wrestle with their sibling and let them work out disputes when they can.

Every now and again be a hot, sticky, mess!

Climb on a jungle gym, while tangling up limbs and reaching new heights.

Try out for sports and learn what is means to be a good sport.

Swim in the bath tub with cousins, sisters, friends until their hands turn pruney and the water runs out.

 

I look forward to the ways I can help my girls grow up, but most importantly I want them to enjoy this precious time, because before they know it, it will be their turn to watch their own kids just be kids.

That’s so Davis

Recently my husband and I moved our family back to his hometown of Davis, California. For those of you unfamiliar with this gem of a city, we are famous for my alma mater, UC Davis, as well as building a "Toad Tunnel" when local animal lovers were worried that wildlife would be harmed crossing a freeway overpass.

We have only been here less than a month and already I have a protective, territorial love for this town, like I have for my own children. I love it for its snobbiness about recycling and its bicycle claim to fame. I’ve immersed myself fully and committed whole-heartedly to the Davis way of life.

There have been little things:

I BYOGB (Bring Your Own Grocery Bags) everywhere.

Both my husband and I, as well as my parents have taken the girls to the farmers market, where they have danced to local bands like the bare-footed hippie children they are (barefooted with me-- socks/shoes, hats, sunscreen and hand-sanitized with my mom and Step Dad).

I just filled out a survey the city released to concerned citizens regarding the use of pesticide sprays near the parks, schools, and greenbelts.

 

There have been big things:

I published an article through the local paper, the Davis Enterprise, on behalf of Fit4Mom Davis.

http://www.davisenterprise.com/local-news/celebratemom-mom-strong/

 

Then there are the “that’s so Davis” things:

My car battery died (yes, we still own a car- no it's not a Prius, yet) and so I loaded my kids into the stroller and ran the 2.2 miles to my daughter's parent co-op preschool. Along the way I had FIVE people stop me to say "good morning" and tell me how beautiful my children were.

I mean, they are beautiful! (The girls enjoying the park and greenbelt behind our new house)

I mean, they are beautiful! (The girls enjoying the park and greenbelt behind our new house)

I am a part of an online group for Davis locals where people will “gift” items, their trade, or their time—it ranges from furniture, baby items, to helping someone reorganize their garage for two hours. Its mission is to encourage being “neighborly” by promoting gratitude and by expecting nothing in return. This is so Davis.

They say when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Don't mind if I do.

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