You gave me the very first taste of what it means to be a big sister.
You made me love in a new way.
You reminded me that I had been there before.
You have always been the yin to my yang.
From the very beginning you were pretty and perfect, clean and shiny. I was plain and impossible, dirty and rugged. You picked flowers and I climbed fences. You spoke softly and I shouted for everyone to hear.
You have always been a constant reminder to me that "different" does not mean "better" or "worse." That challenge does not mean competition and that role model does not mean only way.
You explored wth makeup and I explored with sexuality. You chose reliable stability and I chose constant change. You chose one love and I chose what the hell is love?
As fully grown women now in our thirties, we are picture perfect examples of stark opposites.
Just look at us:
Some might say rivals. Others might say enemies. Still others might say incompatible.
I say yin and yang.
You manage a full time career, owning a home, mothering two children, finding marriage balance, and maintaining a strong group of girlfriends. You keep everything in a well organized, prioritized, well functioning machine.
I do yoga and buy organic produce; I take my kid to squish mud between her toes; I barely see my husband; my friends are scattered around the globe; my life is organized and it functions well, but it ebbs and flows, changing its contours with the seasons.
And because you're my sister, my very first sister, and because of how much I love you, I can see why and how what you do works for you. Your children and your husband love you. Your friends adore you. Your work depends on you. Your life is yours and only yours and it has nothing to do with me and my life.
Because of you I understand how to love deeper than I ever could have without you. We come from the exact same place and exact same circumstances and we simply chose different paths. And your path gets just as much sunshine and rain as mine.
I don't need you to be like me in order to love you as much as I could ever love someone that shares the same blood, same genetic code as me.
It is often said that the difference between friends and family is that we get to choose our friends.
But if I could go back and choose my family. I would choose you as my sister. My first sister. Every time.
You are amazing in your own right. And I have a feeling our paths, no matter how far apart they may seem at times, will find us at the same end point. In the meantime, I look forward to their many crossings.
Happy Birthday little sister.
Saturday, March 12, 2016
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
late night wine soaked thoughts
Everyone is stressed out about.... something.
work.
school.
family.
relationships.
future.
politics.
politics!
politics!!!
I am not truly stressed out about anything. Except the fact that almost everyone around me is stressed out about something.
I think that what we've forgotten to do is prioritize. What really matters to me? What else? What matters a little bit less, a little less, and not at all?
My family matters most to me.
Then work. I love what I do, and where I do it.
Then friends. I have great friends, and some of them fall into that family category, okay, most of them. And some of them fall into the work category. And some into both. (I don't have a ton of friends.)
Then the world.
I want to change the world. I want to leave my mark. I want everyone to have the opportunity to not be stressed out all the time. I met with a student recently who was so overwhelmed by her work load that she could not focus even on simple questions. 8 hours of school, 6 to 8 hours of homework, 6 hours of sleep (teenagers should be getting 8 to 9), at best that leaves 4 hours, for eating, showering, family time, social time (which is incredibly important for cognitive development), family time, personal time. At worst, if she actually gets the sleep she needs and spends the max amount of time on homework that leaves..... less than two hours. What hope does she have to not have a crazy busy packed schedule life from now until she dies? And she's just a kid!
I look at my kid, animatedly wanting to know, on her hands, what 1 and 4 make, what 2 and 3 make, what 5 and 5 make. I didn't teach her to do this. She thought of it on her own. She started holding up fingers and I followed her direction, guiding her along. She's hungry for information. She's curious. Naturally. Like all other children.
This is my mission in life, wine or no wine. (But c'mon, why not include the wine?) To feed curiosity. To provide guidance. To engage with people at all levels who are open to engagement.
It is why I can't put my kid in school in the United States of America, the richest, freest country in the world. I would be directly combatting my own personal mission. I cannot plug my kid into a system built, as of this moment, public, private, or charter, to serve as a daycare center and mostly beat the joy of learning out of my kid.
I cannot watch her be pushed around by kids and adults alike, a victim to a system that aims to "toughen" people up, to mechanize them, to plug them into a workforce where many people are unhappy, underpaid, and undervalued.
I'll keep her home, I'll introduce her to circles of people who want to learn, who work for a better future, who want their children to be kind, who value kindness over academic success (what does that even mean anymore?). I'll teach her to squish her toes in mud and paint rocks, to read books about heroes, male and female, to engage in politics and society at an early age (it's never too young to start) to love deeply and be vulnerable, to laugh with her head thrown back, loud and wild, like her mama, to take deep deep pride in who she is, whoever that may be at the moment, and.....
to.....
slow.....
down.
In fact, she's teaching that lesson to me. I will teach it back to her when I have the chance. And I think I will have it.
I let her wander, let her smell the flowers, let her wade through giant puddles in sand pits after torrential rain storms. I let her take her time while she eats, and I read stories to her before nap and before bedtime easily and freely, not rushing, not shushing her questions and comments, because what a joy it would be to enjoy every single day of life.
This is what I can give my daughter, and the world. My joy in life can translate to her joy in life, and hopefully to my husband's, to the rest of my family, to my students and my friends.
Because, having a child has helped my vision clear up, it has helped me ask a crucial life question:
Why shouldn't life be one big party filled with people we love?
Really? Why shouldn't it?
If we could all just focus on being good to people, on loving everyone around us, and on surrounding ourselves with people who deeply love us back....
Then maybe we could have our party.....
With wine.
work.
school.
family.
relationships.
future.
politics.
politics!
politics!!!
I am not truly stressed out about anything. Except the fact that almost everyone around me is stressed out about something.
I think that what we've forgotten to do is prioritize. What really matters to me? What else? What matters a little bit less, a little less, and not at all?
My family matters most to me.
Then work. I love what I do, and where I do it.
Then friends. I have great friends, and some of them fall into that family category, okay, most of them. And some of them fall into the work category. And some into both. (I don't have a ton of friends.)
Then the world.
I want to change the world. I want to leave my mark. I want everyone to have the opportunity to not be stressed out all the time. I met with a student recently who was so overwhelmed by her work load that she could not focus even on simple questions. 8 hours of school, 6 to 8 hours of homework, 6 hours of sleep (teenagers should be getting 8 to 9), at best that leaves 4 hours, for eating, showering, family time, social time (which is incredibly important for cognitive development), family time, personal time. At worst, if she actually gets the sleep she needs and spends the max amount of time on homework that leaves..... less than two hours. What hope does she have to not have a crazy busy packed schedule life from now until she dies? And she's just a kid!
I look at my kid, animatedly wanting to know, on her hands, what 1 and 4 make, what 2 and 3 make, what 5 and 5 make. I didn't teach her to do this. She thought of it on her own. She started holding up fingers and I followed her direction, guiding her along. She's hungry for information. She's curious. Naturally. Like all other children.
This is my mission in life, wine or no wine. (But c'mon, why not include the wine?) To feed curiosity. To provide guidance. To engage with people at all levels who are open to engagement.
It is why I can't put my kid in school in the United States of America, the richest, freest country in the world. I would be directly combatting my own personal mission. I cannot plug my kid into a system built, as of this moment, public, private, or charter, to serve as a daycare center and mostly beat the joy of learning out of my kid.
I cannot watch her be pushed around by kids and adults alike, a victim to a system that aims to "toughen" people up, to mechanize them, to plug them into a workforce where many people are unhappy, underpaid, and undervalued.
I'll keep her home, I'll introduce her to circles of people who want to learn, who work for a better future, who want their children to be kind, who value kindness over academic success (what does that even mean anymore?). I'll teach her to squish her toes in mud and paint rocks, to read books about heroes, male and female, to engage in politics and society at an early age (it's never too young to start) to love deeply and be vulnerable, to laugh with her head thrown back, loud and wild, like her mama, to take deep deep pride in who she is, whoever that may be at the moment, and.....
to.....
slow.....
down.
In fact, she's teaching that lesson to me. I will teach it back to her when I have the chance. And I think I will have it.
I let her wander, let her smell the flowers, let her wade through giant puddles in sand pits after torrential rain storms. I let her take her time while she eats, and I read stories to her before nap and before bedtime easily and freely, not rushing, not shushing her questions and comments, because what a joy it would be to enjoy every single day of life.
This is what I can give my daughter, and the world. My joy in life can translate to her joy in life, and hopefully to my husband's, to the rest of my family, to my students and my friends.
Because, having a child has helped my vision clear up, it has helped me ask a crucial life question:
Why shouldn't life be one big party filled with people we love?
Really? Why shouldn't it?
If we could all just focus on being good to people, on loving everyone around us, and on surrounding ourselves with people who deeply love us back....
Then maybe we could have our party.....
With wine.
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