Baby Steps - by Robin

I can't believe I'm saying this.....but we're actually coming down the home stretch with the basement construction. That's not to say we're done by any means. I'm in the throes of interviewing painters to get estimates, and dealing with carpet guys, deliveries, and of course the ongoing mess in the house. We're a very long way from having a sense of organization, but it's a work in progress.

Toys strewn all over. Boxes upon boxes in the garage. Furniture out of place. You name it. But, we keep plugging away and remain focused on the ultimate goal and all the good that will come with it.

It's hard sometimes to do that though, isn't it?! (At least that's true for me.)

This has been a valuable lesson in patience, and taking things step by step, having the faith that it will turn out in the end. And, that sometimes you have to endure a challenging period before you start to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

And, clearly it's not just about a basement. It's about whatever matters most to you in life. I've always tried to take the attitude...."Just tell me what I have to do today".....when faced with a situation that was rough and wouldn't go away overnight.

Breaking things down into smaller, day to day tasks makes it feel more doable. Even, if feels like you're taking baby steps....like a child first learning to walk. I remember my son crawling, then hanging on to the sides of the living room coffee table, then before you know it, letting go and doing his own thing. Walking and running with abandon and delight.

I look at him now....with the big boy swagger that he has. Putting on his sneakers for camp without socks. Shopping at a Carter's outlet with me but not wanting any of the shirts because they're not "cool" enough, in his six year old opinion. Sometimes it feels like he's 6 going on 16.

And, once this basement is done, I have visions of him growing from playdates to hanging out with his teenage friends, doing sleepovers and maybe even having a party down there. It will become his space that will one day leave us full of the memories when we become empty nesters. I know that is a long way off from today, but as I look at the unpainted sheetrock, bare plywood shelves, uncovered cement, I know we're on the verge of making memories down there. It represents way more than a basement. It's life waiting to be lived in a brand new space full of possibility. I look forward to the unfolding.


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Mommy dates

With three kids, I make a point every now and then to carve out special “mommy-only” time separately with each child, like a little emotional litmus test to see how everyone’s doing. It helps them be heard over the din of noise through family dinners homework and rushing here and there driving to after-school activities.

Sunday I took all three on separate “dates” for an hour or so at their designated special place.

Five year old Melanie’s favorite place is a diner in Syosset, Long Island where, like the show Cheers…everyone knows her name. Melanie carried her beloved dingy white blanket lovingly in her arms, climbed up on the stool and ordered her usual: a tiny dish of pickles, side of bacon, toasted bagel with butter. I wondered if I should be worrying already about her arteries. But we ate the fattening food and talked to the Greek man who cooked everything in front of us a la Benihana. There is no kitchen in back. The grill is right behind the counter. “I don’t want to be a lawyer,” she informed him after he suggested that profession because she is so talkative and smart. “I’m going to be a mail carrier,” she smiled saying c.a..rrier melodically long for emphasis.

A mail carrier? I learn so much about my kids on these mommy dates.

Next up was Kelly, now 8 since her December birthday. We ventured to her favorite place the Gourmet Goddess in Cold Spring Harbor Long Island. This place is a girl fantasy with lacey curtains dressing the windows and distressed ladder-back chairs with green vines and purple flowers hand painted on them. The store is chock full of candy, teddy bears, all kinds of trinkets, ceramic dishes, tea tins and kitchen rooster towels and cooking accoutrements; toys for girls both big and small. We sat on the flowered chairs, drinking tea and hot chocolate and I was taken aback when she asked me what it’s like to be a mother? and do I like it?

Hmm. This coming on the heels of a conversation I’d had with my husband over the holidays about not wanting to take an office job yet and to continue freelancing as a writer and budding musician. Kelly clearly heard us and was wondering already what kind of woman she might one day be.

“I wouldn’t put my children in daycare,” she said decidedly, waiting for my approval.

I leaned over, looking into her big blue eyes and said, “Kelly there is no right or wrong way to be a mother, sweetie. When you get there, if you get there, you will do what’s in your heart and it will be the right thing for you. There are many ways to be a mother, you know.”

The questions are getting tougher and the answer was: Yes, I love being a mother.

Thank God Robert, my 9-½ year old son, just wanted to go to Oyster Bay Long Island and climb the rocks. But it was too cold. So instead we got Italian Ices at the Bonanza Stand that has been there over a hundred years. We drove to the bay and sat in the car licking chocolate chip cookie dough ices from our spoons and stared at the unbelievably low tide. We talked about the video game Guitar Hero and he asked if I knew who Axl Rose from Guns ‘N Roses is. The answer was the same. Yes.

Life is good!