Great Expectations

I read a blog about happiness the other day that someone had reposted from over the summer. I generally agree that it offers good advice. You can read it here:

http://elitedaily.com/life/15-things-happy-people-dont-do/

Most of the suggestions are common sense "golden rule" kinds of things.  The one that resonated with me the most is trying not to have expectations.

If you don't have expectations, then you can't be disappointed, right? Instead you are pleasantly surprised by events as they unfold. We have so many expectations that have been fed to us over the years by our common culture, it is hard to let them go. When we don't meet those expectations, we feel like somehow we've failed. Most of them are so utterly unattainable that we, or at least I, am beating myself up over things that had little merit from the beginning.

The idea of not having or creating expectations applies to so many aspects of my life right now that I could write a novel. Most recently this has manifested itself in the struggle to pick a Halloween costume for Vivian. Something that should be light-hearted and fun shouldn't be a struggle (yet another expectation). Yet I am embarrassed to admit that I spent hours wrestling with this issue.

Fifteen years ago, I would tell you that I wouldn't treat my future daughter any differently than my son. Pink wouldn't be prevalent, Barbie Dolls would be banned forever due their ridiculous body measurements, and she would grow up with strong female role models to look up to, not Disney Princesses.

A lot of things have changed in fifteen years, and I have too.  I couldn't stop buying pink when I discovered we were having a girl.  It turns out her favorite color, at least for now, is yellow. My daughter has strong female role models in her life - lots of them actually (maybe even too many - lol). 

Vivian is independent and stubborn. You can see it at 17 1/2 months. She is already telling Jack what to do, in her own way. She plays with "girl" toys sometimes. She seems to be more interested in what Jack is doing. She wants to play with his cars and his Star Wars toys.  Yet, she loves to wear dresses. I put one on her the other day and she twirled around (where did she learn that?). For the most part, I think the messages she receives about gender are somewhat balanced. I love that Bernie is home with her right now. It shows her that gender roles can be somewhat flexible.

There are different cultural signals sent to boys than those sent to girls. Boys aren't taught that they have to grow up and marry the love of their life in order to be happy. You don't see this the theme in Toy Story or Cars or Star Wars. Most of the programming aimed at boys can be boiled down to the battle of good over evil, and learning how to do the right thing.  For girls, these themes are somewhat prevalent but the culmination of Sleeping Beauty, Beauty & the Beast, Aladdin, etc. has to do with getting married and living happily ever after. Boys know or eventually figure out that they do not have superpowers and girls realize that it's not very likely that they will become princesses. The difference is that girls hold on to the idea that someday their prince will come. I don't want Vivi believing that she needs a prince to rescue her or be happy. I don't want her to have unrealistic expectations about what happiness is or how it can be attained.

On the other hand, I love my Disney Movies. I just purchased "The Little Mermaid" for Vivi for Christmas.  How could I possibly not expose her to such a fantastic soundtrack? I see my friends post pictures from Disney after taking their daughters to tea parties with the Princesses or going to the Bippity-Boppity-Boutique. I want to do those things too. Childhood is so short. Would it really hurt to let her believe that she is a princess for a few years? Maybe I am over analyzing this and I just need to lighten up. I don't know.

Back to the Halloween debate, Jack said months ago that he wanted to be General Grevious this year. We ordered his costume in August. As of this past weekend, I still hadn't made a decision about Vivian. The boys, having winter birthdays, were older than Vivi by their second Halloween. They had characters they identified with and loved. Vivi doesn't have that yet. She is too big for most of the cute toddler animal costumes. Jack wanted her to be Princess Leia. We briefly considered that but the reviews of the costume said it didn't fit well and we didn't think Vivi would keep the headpiece on. The Disney Princess costumes are adorable, but I am just not ready to make that leap yet. I had decided Tinker Bell was a good compromise. It's cute, she is a fairy, and doesn't seem to be boy crazy (although admittedly I haven't seen much of her work beyond Peter Pan). I waited too long and Tinker Bell in Vivi's size seemed to be sold out everywhere.  I decided that I just needed to take Vivi to the store and let her pick out her own costume.

I had to go to New York yesterday for a mediation, so Bernie picked me up last night at the train station and we headed to Party City in Waterford. It is one of very few stores that still has a good Halloween selection. I put Vivi down in the costume section and she immediately picked up the Belle yellow princess gown, then Snow White, then Cinderella. At one point she was walking through the store dragging three dresses behind her. Bernie thought that might be a window into his future. I wish I had taken a picture.  

Those dresses she picked were a size 4-6, a little too big for Vivi right now. The Belle dress in her size was gold and not yellow, so I was afraid she wouldn't like it as much.  They actually had a perfect size Tinker Bell costume in stock, so that is what we went with. When I tried it on her at home, she giggled in delight when she saw herself in the mirror. It is the perfect choice.  I won't spoil Halloween by posting pictures now.

I suppose that much like anything else, messages about expectations and gender need to be balanced. We need to be intentional about what Vivi is learning. If being a princess next year will make her happy, then who am I to say no?  Allegedly the messages children receive from their parents are much more influential than what they get through the media. I can only hope that is true.

We'll save the Barbie debate for another day. Maybe Vivi will never want one...

On the Run

I'm training for the Philadelphia 1/2 Marathon in November. It is allegedly flat and fast. I signed up for it in May hoping I would train all summer and then run a PR ("personal record" for you non-runners). For turtle-like me, that would be anything better than the 2:07:43 (9:25/mile) that I ran at the Iron Horse Half Marathon in Simsbury in June of 2011. As it usually does, life got in the way and I didn't start seriously training until September. I'm on track to finish the race, but I seriously doubt I'll be breaking any records.

My travel schedule has been packed lately. I've been trying to get my long runs in on the road so that I don't have to take  weekend time away from the kids. Jack and Vivi are good for 5k in the stroller with a stop at the playground at the half way mark. I tried running 8 miles with them on the trail one morning and it was way more trouble than it was worth. 

Since I've been training while I am away, that means that so far, for this race, I've trained in Connecticut, New York, Florida, Texas and Minnesota. There are some interesting climate and elevation changes among those states, especially as we head into fall. Desperate to get some exercise in on a travel day, I even walked a 5k inside the Atlanta airport last week.

Running in different cities is often a scary proposition for a female traveling alone. Trying to figure out where to get the miles in and where will be safe are often the most challenging parts. I'm usually running before dawn, which can be daunting anywhere. The hotel dreadmill is obviously the safest option, but it is way more fun to explore a new city and log mileage at the same time.

I've taken to asking the locals for recommendations. The people that don't run are usually hesitant to give information with a caveat about them not knowing whether it is safe. They usually know at least one runner from whom which I can get the real scoop. I am directionally challenged so even once I have a path plotted, it doesn't always work out. I make sure to bring cab fare, just in case (although I have yet to use it).

Monday and Tuesday I was in St. Paul and got two recommendations for running routes showing different facets of the city. The first route was along Summit Avenue, which hosts the last several miles of the Twin Cities Marathon. Before I got to Summit Avenue, I took a special detour.

My parents used to listen to NPR in the car when I was little and I hated it. I wanted to listen to music, not talk radio or people trying to raise funds. For a few years it seemed like we were always in the car when Prairie Home Companion came on. That was the worst - or at least that was what I told my parents. Once in awhile, and maybe even more often than that, I thought Garrison Keillor was actually funny. As an adult I rediscovered NPR following 9/11. I found their reporting to be the most honest and compelling option available. Nick as a child would get in the car, hear "All Things Considered", and roll his baby blue eyes at me.  I literally laughed out loud the other day when my 17 year old picked me up at the bus stop with his sun roof open and NPR on the radio. He told me he was listening to try and understand the government shutdown. A valiant but futile effort.

Apparently the "News from Lake Wobegon" is actually recorded from the Fitzgerald Theater in Saint Paul. It was the first stop on my ten mile route.

From there I continued on to Summit Avenue which seemed to get prettier around every bend. Here are some of the highlights.  

This picture doesn't do the view of the valley justice. The street was lined with big, beautiful, old houses.

Tuesday morning, I ran along the Mississippi River. Something I've also done in New Orleans.

I stayed at the St. Paul hotel which was beautiful in and of itself:

St. Paul was stunning albeit chilly in October. I'm glad I was able to enjoy it in the fall. Hopefully  I won't have to go back until it warms up.

While the adventure of running in a new city makes the miles go by a little faster, it was comforting to be running around my neighborhood this morning. It required no planning and the hills seem to be getting easier.

Dear Ed

The last week or so has been a blur. Although I went back to work yesterday, I barely know what day it is or what is happening in the world around us. Reentry is a difficult but necessary process as we all begin to figure out what our new normal will be in our world without you.

I don't know if it is because I am hopelessly optimistic sometimes or if I was just in denial, but I believed with every ounce of my being that when the doctors pulled you off the medicines and machines that you were going to wake up and come back to us. Although we've spent the last several days planning for and attending your funeral, I still can't believe that you are really gone. 

I didn't get to say goodbye. Maybe that is a blessing in some respects. My last moments with you didn't involve doctors and hospitals. They were in your living room. You removed your oxygen so that Vivian could give you a kiss with no impediment. You smiled and told her you loved her. Vivian may not remember that moment, but I will.

If I had a chance to say goodbye, here is what I would've told you. You always read my blog on earth, so I suspect I you will be reading it in heaven as well.

Thank you for everything. By my count, we've shared 18 mutual birthdays. I have been happy to share them with you. You were the first person I ever met that had my birthday. I will celebrate for both of us from this year forward.

Father-in-law means different things to different people. To me, it just meant "dad," and that was true way before the "in-law" part became official. Through the ups and downs and craziness of life in general, you were always there for us. Even when you knew the right answer (which I suspect was a lot of the time), you let us figure it out for ourselves. You loved us unconditionally, never asking for anything in return (well except for maybe a granddaughter, and we were happy to finally deliver on that request). 

Thank you for giving us Bernie. I know you are only partially responsible for this, but you were a major contributor to the person my husband is today. Since you have left us, I've noticed the likeness in his mannerisms to yours. He walks like you, sometimes he sits like you, and from the younger pictures of you I've seen recently it seems as though you and Bernie could be identical twins, except that he is taller (but who is measuring?) On the inside, where it really matters, he is a lot like you too. We heard many stories about how when you were managing people, they came first and the job came second. This is a philosophy Bernie has employed as well. It is the way it should be.  In the end, what matters is how you treated people and little else. You liked to laugh and smile and joke around. Thank you for the numerous times you brightened up our days and for fostering Bernie's sense of humor.

I see you in all of my kids in different ways.  Someone who shall remain nameless (protecting the guilty here), said that you were my Switzerland. Isn't that the truth? We've had some interesting family dynamics over the years, most of which have seemed to work themselves out. Regardless of what was going on, you disliked confrontation and generally refused to take sides. This art of international relations was not lost on Nick, who for the longest time said he just liked baseball and refused to pledge his allegiance to the Yankees or the Red Sox. Fortunately he's seen the light and proudly displays the NY symbol. Nick is by nature a peace maker, a gift that you have bestowed upon him.

Then there is Jack. I feel like I could end this paragraph with that one sentence. He certainly takes after his father, which means he takes after you too. While he is still figuring out that screaming and demanding may not be the best way to win friends and influence the people closest to him; he is kind to total strangers. Last night while we were walking the dog, he said "good morning" to at least a half dozen people we didn't know. I told him that he should be saying good afternoon or good evening. I think he stuck with morning because it made people laugh. He is good at breaking the ice and making people feel comfortable. Those attributes are a clear reflection of you.

Vivian, your long awaited "little girl," has your long beautiful eyelashes and your "go with the flow" demeanor. She likes to be on the go, the way that you did. If she knows anyone is leaving the house, she goes to get her shoes, hoping she won't be left behind. I think what I am most sad about is that you had such a short time with her. We will do our best to make sure she knows how much you loved her, and that you are her (and Nick and Jack's) guardian angel - similar to the way you were while you were here.

Letting you go is one of the hardest things we've ever had to do, but there is comfort in knowing you are in a better place and that you aren't suffering anymore. Jack has lots of questions like: "why can't the doctors bring Pepa back to life?;" and "if Pepa is in heaven, who is in the box?" We are doing our best to answer him, when we don't always have answers ourselves. He likes the idea that we will all be together again in heaven someday. Bernie expects that he will be asking to take a road trip there to visit you. 

We were fortunate to be able to share our lives with you, to learn from you, and to be loved by you. Please know that you will always be a part of us and that you live on in our memories and our hearts.