Visitors

For the past couple weeks our house has been bustling with some extra house guests. Missy, Sakura and Shun flew in from Japan on August 1st. I picked them up from LAX, and after my 12th time around the airport, I'm pretty sure that I'm now qualified to be a taxi driver there.

Shun had to return to Japan last week, but he will be back next year to attend school in CA. We had a lot of fun having him here and can't wait to see him again. The last time we saw him was in Japan at Missy's school when he was 12. He graduates High School this year!

Sully is in love with Sakura, and I really mean that. I think this boy is getting a taste of his first real crush. I think he digs the older chics. They're far more refined than the ones still pooping and drooling themselves.

The last time they were here Sully was still cooking on the inside, so it's been so much fun seeing him with interact with them. It reminds me of when Sakura was a little older than him. All he talks about is Sakura when she's not here, and when she is he's stuck to her side like a little shadow. Little kids know no language barriers. They figure out ways, and that's awesome to watch unfold. I tell Sakura not to worry because when he does speak English, we don't understand him half the time anyways. He's like a blabbering love struck puppy. He says her name the sweetest way. It makes me sad to think he probably won't remember any of this.

My kid is awesome though, saying words like Hello and Thank you and his colors in Japanese. He rocks. They have two more weeks here, and I don't really want to think about when they have to go home. That's more certainly going to be a sad day with the different kind of tears then when I picked them up.

Until then ...

Sully and Sakura

Sully and Shun

Sully, Missy & Sakura

Oh the places you'll go ...

Congratulations!

Today is your day.

You’re off to Great Places!

You’re off and away!

You have brains in your head.

You have feet in your shoes.

You can steer yourself any direction you choose.

You’re on your own.

And you know what you know.

And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

You’ll look up and down streets.

Look’em over with care.

About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.”

With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,

you’re too smart to go down a not-so-good street.

And you may not find any you’ll want to go down.

In that case, of course, you’ll head straight out of town.

It’s opener there in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen and frequently do

to people as brainy and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen, don’t worry.

Don’t stew. Just go right along.

You’ll start happening too.

Oh! The Places You’ll Go!

You’ll be on your way up!

You’ll be seeing great sights!

You’ll join the high fliers who soar to high heights.

You won’t lag behind,

because you’ll have the speed.

You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead.

Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best.

Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don’t.

Because, sometimes, you won’t.

I’m sorry to say so but, sadly,

it’s true - that Bang-ups and Hang-ups

can happen to you.

You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch.

And your gang will fly on.

You’ll be left in a Lurch.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.

Some windows are lighted. But mostly they’re darked.

A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!

Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?

How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And if you go in, should you turn left or right…

or right-and-three-quarters?

Or, maybe, not quite?

Or go around back and sneak in from behind?

Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find,

for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused

that you’ll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace

and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,

headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.

The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.

Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come,

or a plane to go or the mail to come,

or the rain to go or the phone to ring,

or the snow to snow

or waiting around for a Yes or No

or waiting for their hair to grow.

Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite

or waiting for wind to fly a kite

or waiting around for Friday night

or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake

or a pot to boil,

or a Better Break

or a string of pearls,

or a pair of pants or a wig with curls,

or Another Chance.

Everyone is just waiting.

No! That’s not for you!

Somehow you’ll escape all that waiting and staying.

You’ll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing.

With banner flip-flapping, once more you’ll ride high!

Ready for anything under the sky.

Ready because you’re that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you’ll go!

There is fun to be done!

There are points to be scored.

There are games to be won.

And the magical things you can do with that ball

will make you the winning-est winner of all.

Fame! You’ll be famous as famous can be,

with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don’t. Because, sometimes, they won’t.

I’m afraid that some times you’ll play lonely games too.

Games you can’t win ‘cause you’ll play against you.

All Alone!

Whether you like it or not,

Alone will be something you’ll be quite a lot.

And when you’re alone,

there’s a very good chance

you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.

There are some, down the road between hither and yon,

that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.

But on you will go though the weather be foul.

On you will go though your enemies prowl.

On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks howl.

Onward up many a frightening creek,

though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike.

And I know you’ll hike far

and face up to your problems whatever they are.

You’ll get mixed up, of course, as you already know.

You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go.

So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact

and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act.

Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.

And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?

Yes! You will, indeed!

(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)

Kid, you’ll move mountains!

So…be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or

Mordecai Ale Van Allen O’Shea,

you’re off to Great Places!

Today is your day!

Your mountain is waiting.

So…get on your way!

- Dr. Suess "Oh the Places You'll Go"

A personal favorite.

Pictures are from our first week of preschool.

I was limited since I refuse to use any pictures

that include other children or the teachers.

More to come about our first week.

LAX

I remember now why I've spent so many years rolling up to the curb of LAX and kicking them out - tuck and roll style.

I hate goodbyes.

I genuinely suck at them.

I usually just don't do them.

Missy says she still remembers the first time when she left and I was 7 or 8, and I didn't show up to say goodbye, because it was too hard for me - and how that still upsets her now to think I was that upset that I wouldn't show up. I guess some things don't change.

So this time I took Sully and we braved it - mainly so he could have extra time with Sakura, see some airplanes and hopefully understand a little why they had to leave, and where they were going. I know he won't remember a whole lot about these past 4 weeks, if anything at all ... and that breaks my heart. I wish he understood. I'm not looking forward to the days to come when he asks for her, and she's nowhere near - in the context of what he understands his world to be right now. But I feel so extremely fortunate that his world extends across miles of ocean - he just doesn't know that yet, but someday he will.

I wish I had more to say about the past month, but right now,

I'm still hung up on the tear-filled goodbyes from this afternoon.

Thinking about the numerous hugs Sully gave Sakura when he realized she was crying.

Her sobbing "I love you."

Their amazingly special bond forged out of this time they had.

Still thinking about and how quickly this month was here and gone.

Anticipating for when he'll ask for her.

Him blowing them kisses until they disappeared from his view.

Me using his shirt to wipe my mascara ruined face.

How Sully sadly said in the car,

"Mama, Missy and Sakura in airplane to go home. Go back. Do it again"

and me trying to explain why we couldn't.

About how I should have just kicked them out on the curb.

Okay so not really.

Maybe.

Damnit.

I'm glad we went.

I' m happy we had those precious extra 60 minutes.

Its good to miss people.

Its good to want, and wait and anticipate their eventual arrival again.

To plan for all the adventures and memories the next time around.

But we're still going to miss them terribly in that time in between.

Sakura is turning into an amazing young person, Missy.

You are so incredibly lucky.

She's wonderful and patient and kind, and oh so loving with Sully.

I can't get over each year how she grows more,

in so many ways.

And as always, I look forward to the

late night conversations over coffee.

Catching up.

Laughing.

Maybe even the Spaghetti Center next time. (Laughing)

Twenty three years, and still never gets any

easier.

And because I still suck at goodbyes -

Here's until next August.

We love you guys.

Going with your gut

Sully blew my mind away today. We stopped by his new preschool so he could have a tour. There were tears in the car. There was protesting. And then the quiet sobs.

I felt like I was being punched in the gut. I actually told him I was sorry.

He was quiet in the hall. He wouldn't make a lot of eye contact.

In the classroom he finally perked his head up and let me put him down.

But outside, outside is where it was at.

He stepped outside and was immediately greeted by more little kids than he has ever seen before in his life.

They asked his name. They asked his age. They shouted and squealed and asked him about his Cars shirt. They talked about his Henry train he clutched tightly.

His eyes kept shifting upwards to meet mine. I reassured him it was okay.

He actually spoke. He said hi. He pointed to his shirt and squealed in unison with delight "Thats McQueen!". He showed them his train. He let each child have a turn pressing Henry's button. And then a little boy asked him if he wanted to play.

He looked at me and I smiled. He handed over his train, and he was off. I watched him hug another little boy who asked for a hug. I laughed out loud as Sully looked down to the ground and contemplated it - and then looked at him and shouted "Uhm, yes!" with a jump and the following of an awkward hug - of boys immediately becoming friends over cars and trains and dirt.

He was the new guy. He was the cool guy.

I watched him run around and dance with two little girls and then cry when I had to practically peel him away from the playground.

I was dumbstruck. I'm in awe of my kid right now. We high fived in the car and he asked when he could do it again.

I almost, almost did not send him to this school. But my gut said something different - and I went with it and just did it. I'm so happy I did. The teachers are amazing. The kids are even cooler.

I hope next Tuesday goes just as well.

Keeping pace

I keep asking myself
have I paid enough attention
have I spent enough time
have I let little moments
slip through my hands
without taking
notice,
without taking
note,
or at very least
a mental
picture.

I want a pause button
today.
I want a time out.
I want a freeze frame.
A rewind.

I feel like
my heart
is frantically trying to
keep pace
with the rate my son is
growing up.
And its a losing battle, I know.
But it keeps on
a-running.

The 5 stages of waking up at six AM on a Sunday

Okay so I made this one up.

Newbie

Eek.

So I picked up Sully's preschool registration forms today to start in September. I can't believe he's already old enough to go.

I'm nervous.

He's never been with anybody but us, my folks or my sister. I don't know how he's going to react. Well, I do know how he's going to react and maybe thats why I'm nervous.

He's an only child. An only nephew. An only grandson. I feel like sometimes that can be pretty lonely. I want him to have other children his own age to play with. I know he'll eventually come around. Its been a long time since I've been in a classroom as a teacher - but I still remember every start of the school year holding hands, walking parents through the steps of letting go - countless pep talks and calming nerves and helping them to learn to be okay with their babies growing up and flying solo - even if for just a few hours in the day. And eventually, having to give those stragglers the boot out of the place.

I never understood it before, but I do now.

I'm on the other end of that.

And its just weird.

Like, really weird.

I'm not ready for what lays ahead the first couple weeks, mainly because I know far too well how kids like mine react the first time around. I got a taste of that during swim lessons or the one time my mother in law watched him.

He shuts down when he's scared.

He doesn't speak or move or look at anybody.

And it breaks my heart.

But I don't want him to be 5 or 6 and doing this the first go round when kindergarten starts because we allowed him to stay sheltered. And while I would gladly keep him safe under my wing that rest of my entire life if I had my choice, that isn't realistic - and that isn't what I want for him. This world is tough enough anymore, and one of the best tools we can equip him with is the ability to cope. The ability to adapt. Because that is what life is about.

Its a constant change and you either learn to go in the direction with the wind, or you break in the process of fighting it.

I don't want to raise a child with nothing but broken branches because I was too scared to let him be scared and figure out the things he is truly capable of. And while he isn't leaving the nest for quite a many more years - I feel like in a way he's taking those baby steps to the edge-

peering over ...

gauging ...

ruffling his feathers ...

all in preparation for the day he'll eventually take flight.

And Mama birds don't hold back.

You either fly or fall.

Its survival.

I know this will be good in the end. I know deep down this is what he really needs. I've spent countless hours picking over what I feel like are the best schools to send him to, narrowing down to two, and then one. It pays to do this for a living. It also makes it that much harder.

I just may be a basket case the next few weeks. But dear god please don't let me be that parent who is getting escorted out of the place while all the other parents watch on shaking their heads in unison whispering "Newbie."

The first day of school never gets easier. Even when you're 30. Especially for this Mama bird.

But I have no doubt my little chick will eventually fly.

All in due time.

Whose on first?

"Whats your first name?" - " Sulliban. S-U-L-L-I-B-A-N"

"Whats your second name? - "Huh?"

"Your middle name, what is it?" - "Sulliban."

"No its not thats your first name." - "Stee-ben."

"Whats your last name?" - "Sulliban. Where is Stee-ben?"

"Your middle name is Stephen." - "I Stee-ben."

"You're Sullivan." - "No, I Stee-ben now."

"Sullivan is your first name, whats your last name?" -"Stee-ben."

"What's your first name?" - "Sulliban."

"Whats your last name?" - "Curtis."

"Whats your middle name?" - "Sulliban."

"No, thats your first name. Whats your middle name?" - "Curtis. Wait, where Stee-ben?"

"Whose Stephen?" - "I Sulliban. Where's Stee-ben?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He got a new Zhu Zhu pet that was brown.

"What should we name him?" - "Brown."

"Brown?" - "Brown Sugar."

Apparently this Zhu Zhu pet moonlights as an exotic hamster dancer at night.

Its falling - with style.

So it finally happened.

Sully got tripped up on the stairs going too fast into the big pool - and fell in.

At first we thought he was going to get right back up because he was still on the steps. But he got scared, a little - or a lot turned around, and his head stayed under.

Shaun was above him sitting in the chair off to the side. I was within 3 or 4 strokes of him.

I remember Shaun yelling "Somebody get him up!" once we realized he wasn't getting up.

Those seemed like the longest 4 strokes of my life - I swear to god.

All I could hear was the sound of him taking in water and see the panic in his eyes. That look kept me up most of the night. Once I finally came to bed, I just laid there, watching him for awhile. I - finally fell asleep at 2 am, and remember having a nightmare that involved water which woke me up at 3:30 am. I don't really want to see that look on his face ever again.

Anybody who knows me knows drowning is my worst, all time fear.

It wasn't even like the whole incident was that big of a deal really. But sometimes, for whatever reason, these smaller moments seem to have far more profound effects on me than some of the bigger milestones do. Maybe because they always seem to catch me when my guard is down.

He's completely fine. He coughed up some water and gave a round of high fives for his epic dive. We judges gave him a 9, mainly for his commitment to keeping his car above water while he was face under. The German judge gave him a 6, partly in due to the poor dismount. All I could think of was the time I got bucked off one of my Papa's horses, landing ass down onto the hard dirt arena and my grandmother freaking out and yelling at him, and him yelling at me to punch the horse in the nose and get back on it.

I got back on it. I did not however punch the horse.

I thought there would be some tears - and to my surprise, well, they never came.

This child is most certainly mine.

And as stubborn and defiant as he is -

and as much crap Shaun gives me for that attribute being my contribution the the gene pool party, I'll happily stake my claim into it.

Because its times like these when it pays off.

When you defiantly brush away that fear, stare it down, and conquer it -

because you're too damn stubborn to know how do it any other way.

I'm not a panicky kind of parent, but I'm still not sure if the tears that welled up in my eyes were because of how scared I was in those few seconds that seemed like minutes (Again, Drowning. Worst Fear. Right Here.) - the few moments after of feeling like a shitty parent for not being there to catch him when it happened or because I was so dang proud of the way he reacted to the whole situation.

Probably all of the above.

When I hugged him for the 100th time he finally said "Mama, I okay." in a tone that I put along the lines of a teenager saying "Mom, okay stop, you're embarrassing me."

In these moments, when my guard is down and I least expect it

- just like that -

my little baby is becoming a little man.

If I blinked it's quite possible I could miss it. These moments of growing up are there always now, seeming to lye in wait - just beyond the morning cuddles and scraped knees that are in need of kisses. Not even a potential drowning can stave them off these days. I remember Shaun locking eyes with me saying "He's okay, its okay." And even though I know he was talking in context to what had just happened, I felt like a part of it was speaking in volumes to a much bigger picture of how I've been feeling lately- it's okay, it happens - little babies grow up into little men.

He's got this.

He'll be fine Mama.

So just like that, I let him go, but not before squeezing him a 101th time and asking a reassuring "You sure?" to which he replied "YES Mama." Okay, okay - I get it.

And then I watched as my baby punched that water pony square in the nose, saddled right back up onto it and played off until the sun set.

The Angry Bucket

We're now the proud owner's of an Angry Bucket.

We've been having some issues with tantrums lately. And not just screaming tantrums but I'm-going-to-throw-these-die cast-trains-as-hard-as-I-can-until-I-break-some-of-your-shit kind of tantrums.

There is already a couple nice gouges in our wood floor thanks to a few fits-of-rage incidents.

We've been noticing Sully gets frustrated really easy. Like almost too easy. The problem is our kid turns Hulk smash green when he gets mad, has the strength to match and a solid throwing arm to boot.

What we've been doing clearly is not working. If anything, it's been getting worse.

There is this whole philosophy with young kids that teaches us to change our language into positive statements instead of negative. We don't tell them what we don't want them to do, instead we tell them what we want them to do - and provide them a safe outlet to do whatever it is that they feel they need to do, like say throwing crap when they're mad. (IE: Get off that table before you break your frickin neck VS. Please put your feet back down on the floor, what you're doing is dangerous. If you need to climb, lets go to the park.) Trust me, both have come out of my mouth, I just try to opt for the latter of the two as much as possible.

And I'm not sure why it took the light bulb in my head so long to finally go off, but the other day, while he was sitting on the time out step for the umpteenth time that day it dawned on me - 1. I've validated the feeling of frustration he has but that is different than him having the capability to understand and distinguish the difference of getting in trouble because he's mad and getting in trouble because he's throwing things because he's mad.

He throws because he's doesn't have the capability or language to express how he's feeling.

He gets sent to time out for throwing things.

He thinks he's getting sent to time out for feeling a certain way.

Yeh, totally not the message I want to be sending my kid.

And 2. Kids need outlets. Some kids hit. Some kids grab a cuddle and cry for 30 minutes. Some kids are high pitch screamers. Mine throws things. Instead of taking that coping mechanism away from him, I need to be facilitating a way he can do that without a consequence, and have the outcome be a positive experience instead of a constant negative one. What does he have to gain or lose then? Its just been further perpetuating the behavior that we can't seem to get a handle on.

Hello there 2003 teacher brain, there you are. I've missed you. Please visit more often.

And maybe I over think these or over rationalize these things, but I can't help it - its seriously just the way my brain has been trained to to think. I can't not be that teacher sometimes, just like I can't not be that parent sometimes who loses their shit on their kid even though the teacher in me knows better.

That day, the teacher in me won out. Thankfully. Because the parent in me was spent on the issue.

So I sat down with him on the steps and did the best I could to talk to him about anger and sadness - and to let him know that's what he was feeling when he throws things. That its okay to disagree and not like what his Dad and I have to say all the time, but when he feels mad, he needs to tell us so we can talk about it and help him. We decided to create an "Angry Bucket" - a bucket full of toys that are okay to throw when we get mad. Toys that won't get him into trouble should he choose to throw them (and not at people or dogs) instead of say - a chair.

And maybe its just me - but I think its really helping. Last night he started to throw some things that was getting him in trouble with Shaun - so he went into his playroom and grabbed the bucket, brought it out into the living room and started chucking stuffed animals and foam balls while yelling "I'M ANGRY" until he wasn't angry anymore.

I want him to feel comfortable talking to us about his feelings. I don't want him to be one of those teenagers who locks himself in his room, never giving us the time of day because he's pissed off. I want him to know we'll always listen to what he has to say - and whether we agree or not - they are still his feelings, they are validated - and he has every right to feel the way he does. That he'll learn with some discussion and help on both sides, we will always be able to find a happy medium. I think so often it is easy to dismiss the way a child feels, especially when they're acting out - and I want him to know its okay and normal to feel sad or mad or angry or frustrated. Just not on my wood floor.

My apologies to the toys whose fate has been resigned to the bucket. Poor Muno.

Last weekend

True to its form, August is proving to be a crazy month. So much so in fact, Shaun and I have yet to still find time to sneak away for an evening to celebrate our anniversary. But that's okay, there are more than enough days in September.

Last weekend we joined my sister, B and his grandma on Saturday and headed down to the Santa Barbara zoo, snotty noses and all. Our typically camera ready dude was not happy with Mama Paparazzi that day. It was still a beautiful fun day with my two dudes at one of our all time favorite places. The highlight of his day was feeding the giraffes. Okay so feeding the giraffe before it licked him and freaked him out - and seeing the baby giraffe. (Sully has been obsessed for the past two weeks with giraffes since he watched one give birth on the Discovery Channel at Nene's house. It was all he would talk about for 3 days straight.)

The following day we headed to the Ventura County Fair with Nana Cathy. Thankfully we were feeling better by then. We ate, we danced, we saw every animal there was to see in the joint. We got our ice cream and roasted corn fixes on (my kid polished almost an entire one single handed), stopped by the see the Taffy Man and looked at Nana Cathy's photography entries. Sully won a free ball at the giant wheel spin at the yogurt tent - and got more compliments than I could count on his new favorite hat - courtesy of Nene. We even watched a dude eat the worlds hottest pickle and cheered when Sully won the extra large prize at the Turtle Game. (I'm telling you, this kid has luck.) We didn't leave till close to 9:30 PM, with our little guy protesting at the exit gates he wanted to "Do it all AGAIN!".

This was his third year and by far the most fun. I miss him being a baby, but seeing things through his little boy eyes is just as great.