Graceful Parenting in Austin

Dear Grace,

Hello, I love you. It has been one year since you were born so early and we lost you so quickly. I wish I could go back and have things turn out differently. I wish I could go back and tell myself it will be all right. I hope you like the home we found for you. I like that when we have a place to come visit you and when we drive by we can all say “Hi, Grace!”

The tide recedes but leaves behind
bright seashells on the sand.
The sun goes down, but gentle
warmth still lingers on the land.
The music stops, and yet it echoes
on in sweet refrains…..
For every joy that passes,
something beautiful remains.

I’ll always be with you, Grace.

Love, Mom

It feels good to consider a more spiritual view of success that is “a child’s ability to love and have compassion, the capacity to feel joy and spread it to others, the security of knowing that one’s life serves a purpose, and finally, a sense of connection to the creative power of the universe.” … I don’t know all the details about how to get there, and I’ll need to come up with my own path that is different than the book, but at least I know where I’m headed.

She wants to see live music more, but finds it hard to do, but today, or all days, she isn’t feeling social and hasn’t made it out of the house yet. He is giving her a hard time because she doesn’t have to go out far, the band is playing on her own block, underneath her neighbor’s carport, just a few houses down…. Who is hot, who is not, which bands need a wristband, which need a second wristband, which make you wait in three different lines to get in. You are playing for important people in the music industry, but for all their importance, they might also be snobby and arrogant and not that much fun anymore…. And while I’m all for the middleman because they play a big role in how music happens and I enjoyed a SXSW show the day before, it’s also nice now and then to just have a conversation between the people who make music and the people who listen…. There were no record executives or press and Diego’s Umbrella didn’t get discovered on my block, but they might have paid for the gas on the way home and everyone had a good time.And Misty made it to the party.

I said a while back, when explaining why my family watches 6,000 movies a year from NetFlix, BlockBuster and Movies on Demand, when I’d rather see music, that there isn’t a lot of infant-friendly live music around, even in Austin, the Live Music Capital of the World. And I’m sure a lot of people would say that the SXSW music conference, with its expensive wristbands, overwhelming schedule of hundreds and hundreds of bands, and late night shows in crowded bars, isn’t infant-friendly, but I’m not so sure…

Baby Girl, Noel and a few friends went to a free SXSW show yesterday, in a park near downtown on the river, under sunny skies, with a cool breeze. When I asked one of my friends if she wanted to go, she asked who was playing and I said I didn’t know. Because SXSW may be infant-friendly, but it is definitely different with a baby.

The wristband wouldn’t stay on Baby Girl’s wrist and the price doesn’t fit in our budget. So I looked for a day time show that didn’t require wristbands. It had to be outside, instead of a crowded bar. It had to be after a nap time, so she might miss one nap but not two. And by the time I had all that figured out, there were two places we could go. And then, I have to admit, I don’t see music like I used to and I didn’t know the bands playing in either place, so I just picked one.

It took forty-five minutes to get Baby Girl, Noel and myself ready. Then we had to pick a place to meet one of our friends, since she also had a baby with a car seat and a stroller that won’t all fit in my car. We decided to meet at Run-Tex, since we needed shoe inserts for Noel, so that took a while too.

We finally got to the park and it was nice.

Photo courtesy of AustinParks.org.

Austin feels like a really large, really extended family. I don’t know why, it’s not like we’ve all shared dinner together or something, but it just feels that way. Austin’s beautiful skyline was in the background and the Colorado river ran between the park and downtown. There was a good energy in the mix of families, babies, dogs, frisbees, funnel cakes and music.

We heard fusion jazz from Christian Scott…

Photo Courtesy of JazzPolice.com.

Christian Scott felt a little out of place, like he might be more at home in a bar late at night, but I loved the different landscape, without the verse-chorus, beginning-to-end-in-three-minutes structure of rock-n-roll, the different sounds moving and changing, coming and going.

We listened to hip-hop from Lyrics Born…

Photo Courtesy of CityPages.com.

Lyrics Born had a lot of energy and songs that had us dancing a little. He got the crowd going, as much as you can, playing hip-hop for a mostly white and nerdy crowd. We can’t hear the words, but my friend explains that Lyrics Born is part of the progressive hip-hop movement, with the really good beats and without the gangsta lyrics, which aren’t for me. I’d like to hear more from this guy.

We weren’t right up front, where we could have heard the music the best, we are off to the side, sitting on a blanket under the shade, so the babies can be away from the crowd and play. I listened some of the time, in between feeding Baby Girl, changing her diaper and getting food for Noel.

I wasn’t immersed in the music like I used to be, taken away to a different place. It felt more like Christian Scott’s music, with the kids, the people, the outdoors and the music all coming and going, in and out of view, all part of something bigger that has a different feel that each of the parts by themselves. It’s a nice way to spend an afternoon.

So, we’ll still see more movies than music, it is easier all round, but I won’t forget the music, because it isn’t as hard as it seems and we’ll back next year. Thanks SXSW.

Whatever kind of prayers you might say, if they are formal and traditional or kind thoughts and wishes, can you say a prayer for Helen? I called Adult Protective Services (APS) this week and her life is likely to change…
I showed up at Helen’s with the case worker. When I called APS, I figured it would take a while for the government agency to respond, but her case worker called me a few hours later. He said he wanted to visit Helen and it would be easier if someone she knew was with him and then I realized he was talking about me. Well, I had thought I would be anonymous in all of this, but showing up with the guy would definitely give me away. I asked, “When?” and he said “Today.”

I was so nervous at Helen’s house, introducing her to my ‘friend’ Jack, the case worker. (From here on, I’ve changed the names.) Would she be angry with me? Her son, Henry, would be mad for sure. I’m accusing him of neglecting his Mom.

Helen took Jack’s business card and asked why he was here. Jack said he just wants to see how she is doing. Helen seemed all right with that, so far. We all sat down and started to talk.

I called because of the kitchen. The last time I visited, Helen’s daughter-in-law, Karen, was there and she showed me the kitchen cabinets full of old, rotted, decaying food. Nothing that could be eaten. There had to be rats. I didn’t seen any, but I saw enough to know they were there. So I called.

Helen told us that her sister died the day before. Henry had taken her to Houston for the funeral. She was really sad about her sister dying. Jack asked if Helen would like to talk to a counselor. Helen didn’t understand the question, because for her, a person just has to deal with what happens. She said when something bad happens, her husband and sons go hunting. Jack asks if she has something she does for herself when she is sad. She says ‘No.’ I ask her if she remembers that her husband and one of her two sons have passed away. She thinks about it, then says, ‘Oh, yes, I remember now. I just have Henry now.’

At the house earlier in the week, Karen explained why she and Henry couldn’t help Helen, stories of family drama, alcoholism and accusations of stealing. Helen talks about her family so sweetly, maybe she is remembering long ago, because, for whatever reasons, they aren’t there for her now.

Helen was pretty together in some ways with Jack. She was good at saying she didn’t need help and explaining that she has lots of family and they come see her and take care of her. But when Jack would ask more about it, the picture would get more clear and Jack knew that Helen’s family didn’t visit that much and she doesn’t have a way to get groceries and she hasn’t seen a doctor in a long time.

Jack was kind and persistent and Helen finally said she would be all right if Meals on Wheels brought her some hot meals at lunch. She also agreed to go to the senior center, if someone could drive her there. I asked Helen about maybe going to church. Helen said, yes, she goes to church every Sunday with her husband and two sons.

As we were leaving, when Helen couldn’t see us anymore, Jack said, “Call me on my cell” and he rolled his eyes. I wondered what he was thinking. Can Helen live alone anymore? Will Helen be taken from her home?

I called Jack and he said no, that wouldn’t happen, at least not now. She needs to see a doctor, though, then they will know more.

Jack is working on things on his end. I’m getting someone from her church to drive her to church on Sundays and finding a maid to clean her house. Maybe Family Eldercare can help, now that Helen might be more willing to accept help.

Will the little things that can be done add up to enough? Will Helen be OK in her house? I don’t know. I say a prayer for her each morning, that in all the confusion of what she remembers and what she doesn’t, she’ll remember that she knew love. I can feel it in the house, that she has happy family memories there. I pray that she remembers the love.

Jack Bauer is on his cell phone.

“Carol. What is going on?”

“Jack, you are the only one who can help. Don’t ask why. I need you to get children’s Benadryl and adult Maloxx and meet me at my house. There may be someone already there. Be careful…”

All right, maybe there weren’t any nuclear threats or torture or crashes of Air Force One. And maybe Jack Bauer was really my sister-in-law. And maybe the person already in my house was our maid and I had left the back door open for her. But the Benedryl and Maloxx is real. This is what the doctor said to mix together and give to Baby Girl to soothe the cut in her throat.

Baby Girl was crying when I picked her up from day care and she wouldn’t stop crying. I took her to the doctor and they found a cut in her throat. She had put something in her mouth that had a rough edge. Baby Girl kept crying and crying and crying. I panicked, because I didn’t understand how this could have happened and then I started crying and crying and crying too.

My mind jumped to child abuse because that is the hysteria, that is what happens everywhere, all the time, if you believe the TV. I asked the doctor what happened. She said Baby Girl is teething, so she put something in her mouth that she shouldn’t have. It was an accident.

But the day care didn’t say anything about an accident. Which was worse? That they knew something happened and didn’t tell me, or that they weren’t watching when something happened? Was I wrong to leave her in day care? I needed to quit my job. I was definitely going to quit my job. I can’t leave her somewhere where they have accidents. I will watch her myself, every minute, and never have an accident.

Blue Eyes is out of town, so my sister-in-law helped me with Baby Girl and calmed me down. I love family. Baby Girl was less upset and we took turns holding her. She was able to eat all right and she even played a little.

I called the owner of the day care and told her what happened. She was sad and worried. She didn’t remember any event, just that Baby Girl started crying. She called me back a half hour later. She took everything out of Baby Girl’s crib, she went through all the toys, she cleaned the whole house, looking for what Baby Girl might have put in her mouth. She found a toy corn-on-the-cob with a rough edge on it. She wanted me to look at it in the morning to see what I thought, if this might have been it. She was very sorry for this toy being in her house. She was worried about Baby Girl and asked how she was doing.

Baby Girl took her night bottle and fell asleep. She slept soundly through the night.

Baby Girl was still fussy the next day, so I kept her home with me. The doctor said the day before that besides the throat, she still had an ear infection. We were already on our third antibiotic for the same infection and there were infections before this one. Since Baby Girl and I were home, I moved up her appointment with the ear doctor and he told us what I already knew. Baby Girl needed ear tubes. We set a date for surgery. March 20. I wished Blue Eyes was with us.

Baby Girl woke up from her nap just in time for my appointment with Adult Protective Services (APS) and Helen. I had called APS earlier in the day and expected the government to spend some time with the paperwork, but instead a case worker called back and asked if I could meet him at her house. “When?” I asked. “Today.” he said. I can’t fit this whole story in this post too. I will post about it in a few days.

Then there was getting some work done, folding the laundry and heating up left over pizza for dinner.

It was 5:30 and Baby Girl had just gone down for a nap. I thought what I wanted most was a long hot shower. Then I remembered. The night before, the hot water handle in the shower broke. We only have one shower in the house. I was supposed to call the plumber, but with everything else, I forgot. I call them just in time before they close. They say they will come the next day.

After a cold shower, I’m ready for bed. Baby Girl has been asleep for a while and all is well in the house. Maybe it’s just one house and not a whole country, but I’m not sure Jack Bauer could have handled it.

Brad Pitt walks into my living room, naked, with a soft smile and light green eyes that look deep into my soul.
Hmm, I think, can you hand me that burp cloth? Because I could use some help around here and it may be interesting that you are naked, but not THAT interesting…

This is how it would be, if Brad Pitt walked into my living room, naked. Because, well, ever since I had Baby Girl, and well, I guess since before then when I was on bed rest and then there was the time early in the pregnancy when there were restrictions, not to mention the restrictions related to fertility procedures and for most of this time, I haven’t been all that much into sex. It’s as if it took all my sexual energy to make just this one baby (ironic that real sex wasn’t involved) and now I’m wondering, patiently, eagerly, wondering, if my interest will come back.

I wonder if there is a procedure or a set of steps to follow or a book to read.

I wonder about herbal remedies or acupuncture.

I wonder if a trip to Jamaica would help.

I wonder if I’m just getting old.

No, I’d rather think more about the trip to Jamaica.

Any ideas?

I’m back at work. Between hospital stays, bedrest and caring for Baby Girl, I was out of the office for eleven months. Here are some thoughts about my first week back at work.

Baby Girl is doing well at Ms. Ellen’s. We practiced for a few weeks before I started work. The practice was for me. When I pick Baby Girl up, Ellen asks “How did YOU do today?” because Baby Girl does fine, I’m the one who needs time to adjust.

On Monday, I get to the office and I’m in the elevator and I don’t know which number to push. I don’t remember what floor I work on…

Blue Eyes, Baby Girl and I went to watch Noel participate in the University of Texas‘ Volleyball Playday this weekend. Noel has been playing volleyball with other 5th graders after school to prepare for the playday. The kids did drills with the UT volleyball team and scrimmaged with other schools. Then they gathered for a talk from Dolly Lamdin, a senior lecturer in UT’s Kinesiology and Health Education program. After hearing her talk, I felt the little girl inside me smile, with understanding and healing, because I SO BELIEVED in what she was saying and I was SO GRATEFUL that she was saying it…

My athletic career died a very early death. I played softball, soccer and tennis on neighborhood teams in elementary school and I dreamed of playing on a tennis or volleyball team in high school. But in middle school, the teams got more competitive, tryouts were required and everything changed. I wasn’t bad, but I was awkward and nervous and didn’t do well in tryouts. I tried out for pretty much everything, it would be embarrassing to list them all, but I didn’t make any team.

So, I was regulated to the regular PE class and that was OK, I wasn’t looking for a career in sports or anything, but this is how PE worked. The PE teachers were coaches for the official school teams, which were important, and the PE class was for baby sitting. One PE teacher had us walk the track every day for months at a time while she laid on the bleachers getting a tan. Sure, we played tennis, with eight girls on each court, randomly hitting each other in the head with balls. Then, of coarse, there was dodgeball. Dodgeball is the lazy PE teacher’s ideal sport. No instruction required, no supervision necessary. And playing dodgeball ensures that none of these non-important-team-kids will take any more PE than required.

But the worst was swimming. Our high school had a pool and the PE teachers demanded that we use it. The girls protested because it was a pain to get wet in the middle of the day, when you had only seven minutes to shower and fix your hair before your next class. But they were not interested in our whining, so every girl had to swim unless they had a note from their parents with a specific medical reason why they could not swim. And in that case, they made you get your hair wet anyway, to ensure that this loophole wouldn’t be abused. And do you know how they taught swimming? They said ‘get in the water and swim!’ I couldn’t swim, not even one length of the pool, so I chose an outside lane and spent a lot of the time hanging on to the side, catching my breath. Well, at least my hair was wet, that is what really mattered.

This story sounds so strange to me now, like it is out of some Charles Dickens novel about an orphanage run by an oppressive and slightly mad headmaster. It’s good material for a movie or at least a TV mini-series.

According to Dolly Lamdin, this kind of PE is in the past. Today, PE is about encouraging kids to be healthy and active in ways that they will take with them when they are adults. It doesn’t separate the athlete from the non-athlete in the sixth grade, with real coaching and teaching only for the select few. It recognizes that everyone can find and learn something that works for them. And it recognizes that, with our mostly sedentary lifestyles and obesity on the rise, the regular PE class is really important.

The little girl inside of me smiled and breathed a little easier. I imagined dodgeball being handed a pink slip and walking slowly, with his head down, outside the back door of the school.

Noel is going into middle school next year, the beginning of the time when the separation begins. Her 5th volleyball group was open to all kids, but in middle school the tryouts will begin and the ‘regular’ PE class will have the kids who are left. It will be interesting to see if the theory at the university is the same as the action in the schools. The little girl inside of me hopes so.