The Independent Child

Once upon a time, I was a neurotic mother. When Jordan was born, I tried unsuccessfully to breastfeed, so unsuccessfully- that he probably starved his first month of life. The breastfeeding nazis slammed me by saying, "YOU MUST BREASTFEED OR YOUR BABY WILL NOT GET IMPORTANT VITAMINS AND MINERALS THAT WILL SAVE HIS LIFE IN THE FUTURE!!!" I had no breastmilk. Jordan would attach his miniscule hand to my hair, scream and cry...and I would pump, syringe feed, pump, syringe feed until I could feel my nipples no more. Yet...I had nothing. One night I had four of my power breastfeeding friends with perfect breastfeeding boobs at my house to cheer me on in my most horrifying moment of desperation. All it did was make me feel frustrated and inadequate.

Then, I tried formula and Jordan never stopped drinking. He would wake up at least six times a night for a bottle, and I was right there with him, the baby-starving, milkless mommy. We became attached. He cried, I ran. I never left him once.

We moved to Italy, found out he was deaf and I became a stay-at-home recluse when I wasn't out strolling him around and teaching him to speak. We never got babysitters because I was the only one who could understand his silent needs, the only one to alleviate his unspoken screaming frustrations.

He became our world and our life, literally.

We were the model couple for what not to do. Jordan slept in our bed for six years until I managed to transfer him to his bed and only by laying with him would he fall asleep. I was convinced he was terrified of the dark because he couldn't hear. He could only fall asleep twirling my hair.

Year by year, experience by experience he grew and we separated. Sofia's arrival and her independent nature made an enormous difference in our lives, because Jordan was no longer the center of our world- it was shared by two beautiful lives.

They have grown and are growing into two independent, self-assured children who no longer need to have their mommy by their side 24-7.

But maybe it wasn't just Jordan's needs...maybe it was my obsession in being the perfect mommy who never left her child. Perhaps, I needed to feel needed and never realized it. As much as Jordan needed to become independent and grow...so did I. So as we both let go of each other slowly...we both grew slowly to the point that I left my kids with their dad for nine whole days.

I talked to them by phone every day, and every single phone conversation I could tell that they were happy and having a great time even without their mommy. What a beautiful thing.

When I came back with bags of presents, they were happy to see me for about ten minutes and then they resumed their daily routines.

Strangely enough...I have well-adjusted kids and I am adjusting well.

Life is good.

Image c/o babble.com

Twenty Years Later...

 

Twenty years after storming the graduation hall to the tune of Rob Base's "Joy and Pain," we gathered in a room in which I had passed many a crazy night, yet that night I did not drink...I absorbed. Twenty years later there was a lot, a lot less hair:-)but a lot more heart. People have lived marriages, births, betrayals, divorces, heartbreak and loss. Yet, there were smilin' faces that night. Genuine smiling faces, not phony shit. And I liked that...

I maybe didn't recognize three people, the rest looked enough like they did in high school to elicit a "Wow" and an "Oh MY GOD!"

I made small-talk the entire night, but it was quality small-talk. I will say that the girls were way hotter than the guys, we know our products. Some people have never changed from the peppy, spunky, flirty, sit-on-your-lap type, while very few others had a silent, self-assured look about them that spoke a clear message of business success and worldliness. Strange, yet true.

I saw my junior prom date and met his wife- an adorable couple. He asked me why I straightened my hair and said he preferred girls with curly hair..hahahaha.

I saw an ex-really good friend who I haven't spoken to for many years after a falling out. I would have stayed and talked to her for hours, asked her about her children and family, but when she saw me, she "Over-hello'd" me and scared the shit out of me by how phony that hello was...I kissed her on the cheek and wished her well.

As far as I lived that reunion, and I'm glad I went, I was genuinely happy to see faces from the past, faces I've reconnected with via facebook and whose lives still touch me.

Someone came up to me and said, "I can't believe this person did not say hi to me, is it possible that people haven't changed after 20 years??"

I said, "Are you sure she recognized you??" He wasn't sure.

What I didn't say is that, maybe, just maybe, those same old high school insecurities re-surfaced in the face of a once-popular smokin' hot girl *smile*.

Another person talked to a friend of ours about how she was having problems making her boyfriend commit. We discussed how people are always looking for more, something "better" and they are never happy with what they have. I met her boyfriend. Slime-city...SHE deserves more. Sometimes love is so blind..blinded by our own self-doubts and not really believing WE deserve better.

Sometimes we choose a path and we are convinced that is the 100% absolute right path for us to the point that we insist in making it the right path. We fight with all we are because it truly seems to be the right direction, because the idea of taking another path is so completely scary that we cannot fathom stepping off that smoothly-paved road. One day, something knocks us off that path and we find our feet walking another one, a little rougher, but maybe..the right one in the end.

The most bizarre event of the evening was that the guy who took me to school every day of High School told me about his life for at least twenty minutes straight..I swear he did not say one word for four years while driving me to school. People evolve. LOL..adorable.

Then, I noticed one girl being helped to the bathroom because she drank too much and two 38 year old girls dancing together and they did get down...just like they did 20 years ago- LOVED THAT!

We all deal with shit every single day, yet some people really have to dig excessive loads and they always manage to find the daisy peeping out of that mound - while others focus and dwell on the color, texture and odor of it. My friend Debbie was born with a daisy halo, because as difficult and challenging as her life may be, she always finds the meaning behind her journey.

And that night, she looked just like she did twenty years ago, not like when I saw her during the summer, but just like in high school- when the only worries we had were whether or not our crush was going to say hi to us in the hall during breaks or if we'd pass our SATs and get into the college of our choice.

*This American Mom is back in Tuscany...but I definitely enjoyed the ride*

Mac The Knife

 

I was talking to a special person yesterday who gave me a sacred glimpse into a new perspective on life. This wise person hit me with a little Yankees trivia, and we all know I love a baseball analogy..."The 1998 Yankees are widely acknowledged to be one of the greatest teams in baseball history, compiling a then-AL record 114 regular season wins against just 48 losses and then sweeping the San Diego Padres in the 1998 World Series. Their 125 combined regular and postseason wins is an MLB single season record."

125 wins...crazy. Only 50 losses in an entire season. It's as impossible as it can get to win every single game in any given season.

My season officially started nine days ago, and I have just had nine perfect days.

Heading back to Tuscany tomorrow...
Kids!!!!! Mamma's comin' home!!!!
*Smile*

\

Carpe Diem

 

For many people today will be extremely painful. Whether you find yourself alone, a missing place at that table or surrounded by family members who do not understand you, today may be a painful place to be. I never realized just how hurtful holidays can be until I spent three days last Christmas, and Christmas is an acquired tradition for me...separated..walking around looking at smiling families carrying Christmas purchases under the glowing, happy Christmas lights.

I don't know if this happens to anyone else, but there are certain stores that when I walk inside, send me directly to the bathroom. (Nordstrom's Rack and TJ MAXX are two of those infamous ones)If I could avoid that crisis sweating situation by going directly to the bathroom, I would, but ya just have to wait til it hits you or the precautionary measures are futile.

Sitting around the Thanksgiving table may provoke some type of unexpected depressing rush that you cannot avoid by prepping yourself, as hard as you may try. For my friends who are parents of deaf children, your family members may stress you out by asking you "Why does she talk like that?" or even worse, "Why isn't she talking yet?" If you are deaf, the table conversation may be more than you can handle and the whole event may just be plain tiring and frustrating. This past year, I have been surrounded by shit and stepped in it, but I just shake it off, wipe it off and move on. I have learned to appreciate moments.

During my lowest moments I receive emails from people I don't even know telling me about difficult situations and encouraging me to write. Thank you so much to all of you.

I have been given the gift of Thanksgiving this year. I celebrated Thanksgiving when I walked into the home yesterday to see my Gram. She looked up from her wheelchair and screamed, "JODI!!!" No dementia yesterday. She was in rare form and even applied lipstick. Hilarious....haven't laughed so hard in a long time.

Tonight I will be with my parents at a restaurant with many missing places at that table. I will hold my mom's hand and tell her that I love her as I shove turkey down my throat.

Thirteen years without Thanksgiving is such a long time. Thank you to the people who have supported me, loved me and told me continuously to look forward. I give the same advice to those reading who find themselves in a Thanksgiving Day rutt. Look forward because it is only 24 hours long. Do not dwell on the empty placesetting, fill it with something that made you smile. Put on some lipstick and if you are not the lipstick type, gel up your hair.

And if things are really, really bad...run to your nearest Starbuck's and order up a Pumpkin Spice Latte heavy on the whip, cause that, my friends, is Thanksgiving in a cup.

Fairy Dust: Sprinkle With Care

I had this vicious dream about a year ago. I was standing on the beach with my back to the sea and I saw three tornadoes from a distance approaching rapidly. The first tornado veered off into the sea, the second tornado passed me by and the third and biggest came directly at me. It stopped in front of me and a face appeared in the middle of the tornado. It stared directly into my eyes and I awoke..breathing heavily.

There are situations in life over which we have no control. As adults we have the power to make decisions even when others seemingly control our destiny- we can control how we act, feel and respond in these situations based on how we have lived other traumatic events.

Sofia is in the staring the tornado in the face phase, but she has no prior traumatic experiences from which to draw strength.

Once upon a time...I was Sofia.

Sofia: MOMMY I HAVE A STOMACHACHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me: (hugging Sofia) Sofia, you know, last night I had a dream and an angel came to talk to me. She told me you were having bad dreams and seeing monsters and she was very worried about you, because she loves you. She gave me something magical to give to you.

Sofia: What Mommy?

Me: (hiding hand clenched in a fist) She gave me a fistful of magical fairy dust, she put it right in the palm of my hand.

Sofia: Mommy, come on, there's no such thing as fairydust.

Me: Well, now, I sure am sorry you feel that way, because the angel told me it's only for very imaginative, intelligent little girls who love Lady Gaga.

Sofia: Go on.

Me: Magical fairydust can only be seen in dreams because the colors are so bright and glittery that a human eye would go blind if it were visible not in dreams. It's a kind of powerful stuff that you can only see when you close your eyes and try to imagine being close enough to touch a rainbow.

Sofia: (staring at my fist) So, what does it do?

Me: The angel told me that everytime you have a bad dream or feel so sad that your stomach starts to hurt, you need to take a fistful of fairydust, throw it at the monster or rub it on your tummy and millions of sparkling butterflies will appear before your eyes.

Sofia: (Smiling)

Me: I was instructed to put the dust in the palm of your hand, you have to squeeze it tightly and then we put it over your heart together, only then will it work in case of monsters.

We performed the ritual and Sofia smiled.

Sofia: Mommy, it works, my stomachache is gone!

 

Old

I spoke before speech therapists and child psychiatrists at the two day Cochlear Implant Conference in Pisa, Friday and Saturday, and my favorite line- in honor of Naomi- was "A mom should be allowed to be a Mom and an ice-cream cone...an ice-cream cone!" - Not just teaching moments 24-exhausting-7.

Whenever I have to speak, I get extremely nervous and have this emotional shake thing take over. So, when I stand before the group- and for some reason speaking before 50 is much more intimidating than 500-maybe because they can see my wrinkles and visible shakes better than when there's a huge crowd...I shake more. I tried to hold hands with myself. It kind of worked. Anyway, I made my points, and gave resources for them to take back to the parents.

My speech therapist, Iris was there and there we were in the same room, listening to the same Professors and Doctors delivering information on arguments like Cochlear Implant Surgical Techniques, Mapping a Cochlear Implant, The Cochlear Implant and Multi-Disability, etc. At one point, I swear I laughed out loud. People turned and stared. I just kept thinking how twelve years ago, I walked into my speech therapist's office, didn't know a word of Italian and literally broke down crying hysterically trying to explain that fact to her as I handed over Jordan.

Fast forward twelve years later and there we were at the same conference and I could understand everything. Insane. I thanked her during my speech and admitted I was the worst mother at creating those damn teaching books and gathering material necessary for her speech therapy lessons...but somehow we made it work together. We ate together during the "Working Lunch" and at one point another speech therapist walked over to us. She said, "Jodi, you know, first of all you did a great job. Second of all, you look like a teenager. I saw you and Jordan just before the cochlear implant surgery and you were another person than the woman standing in front of me now. Really, you look ten years younger."

My jaw dropped.

A compliment made woman to woman may be held as an undeniable truth. There's absolutely no risk that they want to take you to bed, so you have no choice other than to accept it as fact. And so I did.

Forget about youth cream, get your kid a cochlear implant.

*Smile*

And I will admit, lately I've been getting the urge to cube.

The Silver Spoon

I have five minutes literally to throw out this post, but if I don't do it now, I'll forget and it's important to me to say what I am about to say.

Work Ethic

One of my favorite former students who is now a twenty year old Italian University student just posted this on facebook:
"How many people wanted to become a star, how many people have ended up at McDonalds flipping Big Macs or frying up donuts? I am so thankful for my lucky star..."

I responded to his post and now I will respond here.

I come from divorced parents and I have been very independent since an early age. I started babysitting when I was thirteen, worked in fast food during high school while playing three sports each year. I worked as a cocktail waitress in college and after college I worked three jobs to pay for more courses towards a Masters in Education..which I never completed because I got pregnant, married and moved here.

I spent four years at the Univ. of Md. College Park.

I can assure everyone reading this blog post that what my experience working in fast food taught me...no course at the University EVER did. Dealing with unhappy, dissatisfied, grumpy people on a daily basis who send back food, complain because the coffee isn't hot enough, who want the damn cream cheese on the side of the bagel teaches you interpersonal, diplomatic skills in a way that taking notes in Psych 101 will NEVER do. Handling money, counting change and maintaining a perfect cash drawer teaches you RESPONSIBILITY and ethics in a way that Calc 220 will NEVER do.

And dealing with assholes who try to pat your butt as you're serving beer without smacking them upside the head, gives you confidence and grace in how you move through your life.

So at this very moment, I would like to applaud the people working in fast food who take extreme pride in their job and who smile at miserable people while working double shifts to pay their bills...on time.

I pity the silver spoon.

*Finished*