And I Walked Away

"I don't want to be by you anymore!"  This followed an exchange that Ella and I had in the pool at my sister-in-law's house this afternoon that ended with me just walking away.  Ella delivered this message to me.  At least I didn't yell back.  I yelled yesterday, made my two Leatherkids cry and then made them listen to me preach about the importance of compromise.  But that's another story.

I made the right choice today by walking away... only, Ella didn't think so.

How did we get to that point?  Well, a few minutes before, the cousins were ganging up on their oldest cousin and trying to tip her off of her innertube and into the water.  Everyone was having fun.  Ella was one of the tippers.  In fact, she was the smallest tipper; and when they finally tipped the tippee, Ella was left crying.

I hopped into the pool when I saw her, concerned that she might actually be hurt (and I really don't like to see my baby cry), and held her in my arms.  I began questioning her.  "What happened, Boo Boo?" I asked.  Ellie... Boo Boo... these are my pet names for my girl.  She tried to tell me what happened, and I failed to understand right from the start. You got kicked in the nose?  No, run over.  Run over by what?  THAT.  By what?  THAT.  Madi?  No, THAT.  The floatie?  Whaaaaaa?  I think the floatie had been sitting on a fly earlier, and the fly survived.

"YES, I TOLD YOU!" she yelled at me in that edgy, frustrated tone that really gets under my skin and generally sets me into my rant about my being her mother and that she needs to show me respect.  But I refrained from ranting and calmly told her that I was trying to understand and help and that she needed to relax and treat me with respect.  She didn't bite and yelled at me again.

So I walked away.  As I did so, I told her that we'd talk later when she was calm and ready to talk.

She didn't like this, of course, insisting she was ready but still yelling at me.  As I sat in my chair, she added her "I don't want to be by you anymore!" More than anything, this was actually kind of amusing, really.  I mean, if you ask Ella at any time on any day of any week who she wants to be by, she'll more often than not tell you, "Mommy."

Anyway, she said this a few more times in between insisting she was ready to talk, again, in that biting tone; so I knew she wasn't really ready to talk.  And then I thought I'd take a chance when I saw her, quiet and sad, sitting on the edge of the pool.

I walked over and sat near her  and asked her to come sit next to me so we could talk.  This wasn't an unreasonable request; but she wasn't reasonable.  She yelled at me again, I'm sure about the fact I wasn't sitting next to her, perhaps even more.  I explained to her my reasoning -- the concrete is bad for our bathing suits, whereas the pool steps are not.  I figure if I can explain my reasoning so she knows it's based in something sound, one day it'll stick.

She wanted nothing to do with moving, and I certainly wasn't.  I noticed all of her cousins were on the other side of the pool; so I told her that if she continued to be mean like she was, no one would want to be with her.  I then told her that I love her, and I stood up, the first step to walking away.  This garnered this response, "I won't say 'I love you' ANY MORE!"  I told her this hurts my feelings (it really doesn't hurt, not anymore), but walked away, again throwing out the suggestion that we talk when she calms down.

I sat down in my chair across the pool from her, and we exchanged a few more words.  I honestly don't remember what they were; but I'm sure she was mean, and I was childish. Eventually, she stormed off into the house, but not before getting this jab in: "I don't want to live in our house ANY MORE!" (she used this one yesterday), as if this had anything to do with the situation.  She quickly made her way back out without my noticing and sat with the adults on the deck near the pool.  When I saw her, I made my way over to her and gave her a kiss on her head.  She didn't smile.  In fact, she frowned an angry frown. But she said nothing, and I walked inside the house for a few minutes.

As I approached the door to head back out, Ella was walking in.  She looked at me with her beautiful blue eyes.  And without a smile, she started to hug me.  I knelt down so we'd be of similar height and hugged her back... for a long time.  We didn't say anything -- no kidding -- we just hugged for a long time.  Once we were finished, we went back outside to continue to enjoy the pool.

Eventually, the pool cleared; and I found myself alone by it.  What an opportunity I was given to be outside and enjoy some silence!  I decided to climb into that same innertube that I believe had run over Ella and made her cry and just floated in the pool.  I did this for maybe five minutes before Ella was standing at the edge of the pool wanting to join me.  I asked her if she wanted to sit in the pink floatie "just like Mommy," and she did.  So I helped her into that one and climbed back into mine; and we floated together, me ensuring we stayed side-by-side by holding her tube with my hand.

I don't know how long we floated together before Ella's cousin came out and joined us.  Fifteen minues, maybe?  Whatever it was, it was nice.  We were pleasant with each other, talked about what we were doing and "worried" about bugs as if nothing had happened earlier.

We were fine.  And we never did talk about what had happened between us earlier.  That ship had sailed.  That moment was gone.  And that was fine... I think.  The last thing she needed was another speech from me.  I don't know if she really understands what respect is, anyway, even when I explain it.  I think just walking away from her when she was completely unreasonable and unpleasant was the right response to, the right consequence of her yelling at and being mean to me.  Because she actually wanted me to stay. And she really does love me.

My July 4th Weekend

I sit on the couch in front of the TV in the family room.  Behind me, I know there are unwashed dishes in the sink and a dishwasher that's not completely functioning properly.  I also know the kitchen island is cluttered... more cluttered than I am comfortable with.  There is a plastic beaded neclace lying on the coffee table in front of me... and Ella's t-shirt and socks... and Cal's White Sox hat... oh, and the Band-aid box.  My running shoes sit along side the table, left there after yesterday's run.  And a plastic frog lay belly-up beneath our newly-acquired rocking chair.

I know there are piles of clothes to fold and messes elsewhere, but it's 10:44pm on July 4th, and I'm done.  I can't, and won't, clean this messy house up.  And I'm almost okay with that.

During my fantastic bike ride this afternoon, I thought about my weekend.  Whereas I typically think and beat myself up about the things I didn't do, I, switched gears (in my head, not on my bike) and thought about that I actually had done.  Too often, I highlight my shortcomings, which negatively affects my mood; this time, I decided to celebrate all that I had done over the course of this July 4th weekend, in brain-dump style.

I...

Got home from work on Friday and watched half of "Despicable Me," (the Leatherman Family Fun Friday movie of choice) after having rushed to catch the 5:22 only to be delayed 20-ish minutes due to "locomotive" problems... cuddled with Ella and actually fell asleep with her for an hour or so before waking up to try to catch Bill Maher, but fell asleep with him, too... woke up Saturday at 4:30am, unable to sleep more, and moved to the couch where I did sleep for a couple more hours... woke up and worked a couple of hours, knocking some things off that I had wanted to get done on Friday but hadn't... took the kids, all three of us on our bikes, to the ball field at the kids' school where we played baseball, however they wanted to do so... at Ella's request, painted mine and Ella's finger and toe nails a mix of blue and red... fixed the Leatherkids lunch, creative stye as we didn't have a bunch of supplies (e.g. bread) here... went for a 3-mile run and actually didn't struggle (my runs have been brutal the past few weeks)... showered and got myself ready to head to Ribfest for unlimited drinks, ribs and some good music (Sister Hazel and Sheryl Crow would be playing -- yea!)... met some friends at that fest, drank IPAs and ate ribs... danced and sang along... dropped my phone in the toilet, reached in immediately and grabbed it (yuck), dried it off and found it to be working... slept well that night and got up Sunday at around 9am (whaaaaaa?)... hunted down my dad's wallet (he lost it while out with the kids on babysitting duty on Saturday)... washed clothes and sorted them... went to and tolerated the crowds and expense of Ribfest with the family... encouraged, coaxed and sometimes begged the kids to go on rides... ate more ribs... saw an aligator and a snake and pleaded with the kids to touch them, this was their chance, but they didn't (who can blame them?)... returned home to find that my phone wouldn't charge... felt sad, really, really sad... went for a 3-mile, music-less run... walked, unplanned, with Ella after my run... went to the grocery store with Ella, after declaring it "Mommy-and-Ella time"... listened to my dad read to the kids at bedtime and then saw him off... tried to watch a movie recommended by a work friend (movie was "Mother of Mine," work friend was Chandra), but couldn't stay awake for it (I'll try again sometime this week)... slept in again on Monday... battled the sadness of not having a functioning phone... "soaked" my phone in dry rice to try to draw out any water that may be in it... worked some more on Monday morning, but outside where I could watch Ella swing (at her request)... did more laundry and sorted it... walked to Walgreens with Ella to buy a couple of things... played wiffleball in the backyard with Cal and tried to include Ella but succeeded only so much before just walking away, frustrated, from it... colored my hair... made my gaspacho salsa and some cherry bombs for the Reinkes' July 4th party... went for a 13-mile bike ride by myself... showered and went to the Reinkes' for said party... drank pineapple vodkas and sangria and ate some food... watched the Leatherkids enjoy themselves in the pool with just the two of them and then later with some college kids (is it wrong?)... went to the Reinkes' friends' house to eat desserts, have one more drink, a cosmo, and watch fireworks... actually watched the fireworks... drove the family home... put the kids to bed... and here I sit amongst the signs of the busy weekend I had.

I wish my house were picked up and clean, but ain' nobody got time for that during or at the end of a busy of July 4th weekend.  Perhaps the mess will stick around all week and serve to be a nice reminder of the weekend we did have... except for that darn phone -- I'll remedy that today.

Ella's Natural Inclination

Dan and I took the Leatherkids to last Saturday's White Sox-Blue Jays game.  Cal's a big Josh Donaldson fan (for the MLB uninformed, he's the Blue Jays' third baseman and last year's AL MVP) and an even bigger White Sox fan.  Throw in that the giveaway for that game was a White Sox beach towel, we couldn't not go.  That it was sunny and 90 degrees was a bonus... well, the sunny part of that equation was. 90 degrees is a little too hot for mine and, I learned through her whining, Ella's likings.  And that the White Sox hit 7 home runs and still lost made for an interesting game.

But that's not what this post is about.

Dan and Cal had somehow gotten far ahead of us as we walked from our parked car to the ballpark on Saturday.  I think it's funny I say somehow as I know exactly how.  They were on a mission to just get to the ballpark.  Ella and I, not so much.  We ran into the peanut guy and had to buy a bag.  And Ella's got little legs and doesn't cover a lot of ground giving the same effort to walking that the rest of us do.  In other words, we were just slow.  I don't really know how Dan felt about this, but I know I didn't care.  It gave us an opportunity to talk.

So, as we walked, we were given unsolicited directions for actually getting to the park. Instead of parking in one of the formal Comiskey Park lots, we parked in a nearby church lot; and the path to the park wasn't exactly clear.  I mean, it was virtually on top of us; but the getting there required a jaunt down an alleyway next to a building and around some small trees.  Figurouttable, yes; but we accepted the directions nonetheless with a polite, "thank you."

Our thank you had barely reached the gentleman's ears, and he was pulling out an id that identified him as belonging to a homeless shelter.  I couldn't tell that by looking at the id and only know this because he explained it as he pulled it out of his pocket.  Once that introduction was complete, he asked if we could help him out.

Nuts.  I lived in the City for a good 15+ years; and over the course of those years, I hardened a bit.  I knew what he meant by "help out," and I politely told him as I shook my head slightly from side to side, "I'm sorry" and continued walking with Ella.  Right or wrong response, I don't know and really do struggle with; but that was my answer.

We had only walked a few steps from this man when Ella started asking questions.  "Who is he?"  "What did he want?"  I explained to her that he was a homeless man who wanted to know if we could help him out and then proceeded to explain what it meant to be homeless.

"He can live with us," Ella responded once I was done.

"That's nice, Ellie.  Where would he stay?" I asked.

"We have a room in our basement," she told me.  We do.  It's where our guests sleep when we have them.

"We do, don't we?" I replied.

I don't remember exactly how the conversation went from there, but Ella basically verbalized all the thoughts going on in her head around letting this guy live in our basement... with his friends... for a long time.  So sweet.

We eventually made it to the ballpark where we found Dan and Cal waiting for us near the gate.  We entered, each grabbed our giveaway and slowly made our way up the ramp to the level where our seats were.

After the game, as we retraced our steps back to the car, I was, again, walking with Ella. Being in the same spot where we had talked about the homeless man staying with us, I was naturally reminded of the conversation we had had before the game.  And then I thought about how wonderful it is that her natural inclination was to help this man -- this complete stranger -- out. Still so young, she is not tainted by negative experiences or horrible news stories or even judgmental commentary in everyday conversations with people to have any reaction other than the one she had.  Her mind is so pure, so naive and so innocent and her heart so warm, probably not too unlike many other kids her age.

Having recognized that, I thought about the influence that I, her mother, can have on her. I know it's unrealistic and probably little dangerous to strive for her to maintain that same level of considerate, kind-heartedness as she gets older; but I do like the inclination and will do whatever I can to encourage that with an appropriate level of skepticism to keep her safe.

And then I wondered (not for long as I found this very uncomfortable and disturbing), what if she were Donald Trump's daughter with that same inclination at the same age? She'd certainly be taken on a different, incredibly selfish and judgmental path where her reactions would not be so kind-hearted.  And it wouldn't necessarily be her own doing, really.

I don't know.  At that moment, walking down the path where we had encountered a homeless man hours before, it just struck me as powerful and a bit scary the influence that we have as parents to mold our kids into people who naturally think the way we want them to think.  Ella can probably go any number of directions right now, and I'm going to do what I can to keep her where she naturally finds herself right now.