XiaolinMama

Written proof my child loves me

I'm 39!

It all started out so innocently, many moons ago when my inquisitive son asked me how old I was I said 25. Cuz, why not, being 25 was fun, right?  Smart boy that he is, he remembered and just kept adding a year to my age (because that is what you do when you are smaht!)  This year I should have turned 29. Who am I to pop his delusion of having a young, hip happening mom?  Sigh. 

Well this house of cards came tumbling down this week.  I got a new Nintendo DSi XL, which required set up with a birth date.  I filled it out absently without realizing that the kids in my house would actually see it.   Here was our conversation:

Ten Year Old:  "Mom, this says you're not 29.  It says you're WAY older than that."  

Me (slightly older): "Really, where does it say that?"

Ten Year Old: "Um, right here. Where is says 1971.  How did that happen? It must be wrong, right?" 

Me:  "Well actually, I'm 39."

6 year old smartie pants: "Well it's possible that she is 39 - mom isn't that good at math." 

Me: "Off to bed with you two!"

Another reason NOT to teach kids math.

Life in Silicon Valley - Neighbors and Ferrets

I am lucky enough to have a very responsible 10 year old.  So much so, that I can take a walk to my neighborhood Starbuck's and get a coffee without worrying that he will  burn my house down or open the door for a stranger.  I did just that this morning. 

So what happened while I was gone picking up my latte? 
Apparently one of the neighbor boys, J, came over and asked to hang out. My son listening to my instructions told him he wasn't allowed to have guests, so he'd have to come over later. (Whew, great response!)   Upon his arrival, J told his mom that he couldn't play at our house until later and that some guy was crawling around our house looking for a "fairy".  What? 

Scrapbooking Stinks

Someone recently informed me that May is National Scrapbooking Month.  I love a good holiday and the excuse to celebrate, but Scrapbooking stinks. Let me rephrase. I stink at scrapbooking.  I have bought the letters, the paper, the cute book you put the pages in.  But I just don't get it and am not talented in this AT ALL.

My kids' baby books are lame. They kinda started okay, but when I realized that it took me an hour to curate 2 pages, so I threw in the towel.  They are a ugly hodgepodge of mixed pages - testimonies to my lack of skill and vision.

I love to look at done up scrap books. I marvel at the time it took and the love put into them. My sister for example, has their lives perfectly documented - with pretty paper, grommets, archival tape and stickers.  She is the awesome.

What will my kids have instead of a coveted scrap book?  A banker's box full of art projects and our memories outlined on my blog for the whole world to see. Poor kids, I am sure my blog will be WAY more embarrassing.

What's in those Red Cups?

The weather has been picture perfect here in Northern California, so the kids and I decided this weekend was the perfect opportunity to take our bikes and head to the frozen yogurt shop.  We live near a small private college and what do normal college kids do on the first sunny weekend of the season - they have a party!   So imagine me, my husband and the kids on our bikes, complete withe nerdy helmets cruise right by Fraternity and Sorority rows.  Gals hanging out in bikinis and boys playing frisbees - oh those were the days. 

My husband and I laughed as we figured out what was going on and the kids looked on in amazement at all the fun the "big kids" were having with no parents around. There was ping pong with a table full of red cups (aka beer pong), people in blowup pools holding red cups, some weird funnel with the longest straw ever attached to it (aka Beer bong) and a rousing game of football in the street.  We pedaled quickly and I tried to avoid falling down right in the middle of frat row. ( Let's not go into the flashbacks I was starting to get!) Needless to say, we took a a detour away from fraternity row on the way home. 

Here are the highlights of the convo on the way home:

Me: So what did you think about fraternity row?  They all looked like they were having fun, right?

10 year old son:  Yup, they were playing in the street and didn't care if they were gonna get run over. cool.

Me:  Yup, you get to do all that when you are in college. Obviously, they are all finished with their homework and just taking a break. 

6 year old daughter: They were all really thirsty, there were a lot of red cups that they didn't recycle.

Me: Um... yes a lot of red cups.  They need to throw away their lemonade and punch cups.

10 year old son:  I don't think they were drinking punch.

Me: (gulp- bad mom alert!) Really? What else would they be drinking?

10 year old son: Duh, mom.  Soda!  Coke, root beer or Mtn Dew for sure!

Me: (laughing) When you are in college you can drink as much soda as you like.  (Whew!)

6 year old daughter: Oh, I thought it smelled like the beer you and daddy like to drink.

Late New Year Resolutions: Being Gentle

What happened to January?  I had BIG plans for January- you know the kind that change the world. Well, not really, but the kind of plans that made it easier to find shoes in my closet and the kind that would require to me to HAVE to buy new jeans, cuz I've lost SO much weight. sigh.  Alas we're in February and I'm left wondering what happened - kids, work, begin sick with the flu and a million reasons. 

This year the one resolution I am going to keep it is being more gentle - with others and myself.   I am totally one of those gung ho gals - give me a task, I'll get it done. I'm laser.  Sometimes that means prioritizing, being focused, running over people and other minor tasks.  At the end, I am left with both a feeling of accomplishment and the guilt of ignoring competing needs/people. 

So this year, I working on being kinder and letting go of the guilt and cutting me some slack. 

Help out a sistah, keep me honest on this will ya?

My Letter to a Nine Year Old

Dear C,

You are nine today - which means you have been in my thoughts and heart for over a decade.

Today we celebrated your birth with a bowling party, it was chaotic, loud - and perfect. Just like you. I watched you laugh and joke with your friends. I watched you as you bowled with confidence and could tell that you felt safe around these boys - from school, soccer and neighborhood and your aunties and uncles.   They were all there because you, my dear boy are a loyal friend and a good kid.  You are loved.

This year, you have begun to come into your own. You stand taller and actually are coming out of your typical quiet shell.  You spoke with your grandmother tonight and had a LONG conversation. I was bowled over by the sheer joy you had on your face recounting the details of your party.  You are not typically a talker (unless it is about video games) - but wow, things are a changin'.

Over the past few months, I have caught myself wondering, "is that MY son?"  You are becoming a boy, not a baby.  You are ready first in the morning, are pushing back when the family jokes with each other and show patience and tenderness (usually) when playing with your little sister.  I marvel at how tall you have grown in the last few months and was shocked to find that you have such big feet in comparison to your chums...hmmm?  You are going to be taller than I thought.  You are not mushy and cuddly any more, there is NO baby fat on you.    You are gangly, but run like a beautiful gazelle.  I have hugged you more lately, readjusting my expectation of a returned sloppy kiss. 

I love to have real conversations with you. You are incredibly observant and have the memory of an elephant. You can call me on my Sh*t.  Yes, sometimes mommies are not as neat as they could be.  Whatever - I am the mom here. 

You are funny, athletic, thoughtful and smart. Your dad and I have such high expectations, sometimes it amazes me that you can live up to them. Like us, you are born first.  You are the responsible one, the one we think should know better and the one who generally actually  listens. This is the first time you have struggled with school. It has been amazing to watch your thought process and how you learn. I know you will be fine.

Thanks for teaching me to be a mother. For reminding me daily that things change and I better pay attention.  Thanks for being sensitive and reminding me that despite all that growth, you are still my baby boy and that there are times when only your mama will do.

Love,
Mom

Holding Hands

Last week I had the luxury of going to my neighborhood diner - all by myself for 45 whole minutes!  Just me, toast, coffee and my daily planner.  The place was packed. To my left, a couple of young hipsters - a hair dresser and a musician.  Both chatted away loudly and excitedly about holiday parties and their weekend adventures.  (These tables were close people!)  To my right were an elderly couple in their 70s, who were having breakfast in what must have been their "usual" spot as evidenced by the waiter's familiarity with their special needs -  slightly warmed up milk in a tall cup and a tea extra hot.  I sat squarely in the middle both literally and figuratively. 

I looked at the youngsters and could not help but think about what it was like to be at the beginning of a relationship, when all is new and you just can't get enough of that new person.  They held hands.  She looked at him longingly.  It was obviously a new love.  The elderly couple spoke about their volunteering at the local hospital.  They read the paper, had their beverages and held hands too.  They had the hands solidly denoting a love that is assured - one that has been tested over the years and has endured.  Maybe I was reading too much into their interactions.  Maybe I was just hormonal. 

Life at our house is super hectic - the kids, taking care of a sick grandparent and jobs.  The weeks go by quickly and weekends even faster.  Who has time to hold hands? 
The experts say a "date night" is essential to keeping the flame in your marriage lit. Is that it?  How about 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep, a personal assistant to take care of all the "little things" that occupy my time, like laundry and reports  or B12 pills to help with my memory issues?  My dear husband and I are way past the puppy love phase. I am thankful for him - some days more than others. So if we make it through parenthood then maybe we'll be like the elderly couple.  I'll be having a mimosa though.

A Soccer Mama's New Eyes

I have written several times about the joys and angst of my children playing soccer.  I get frustrated by the competitiveness and horrible way parents behave sometimes and wonder what we are teaching our kids with examples like that to watch.  But this weekend it all changed for me.

A ten year old boy died this weekend on the way home from a two day soccer tournament in Manteca, CA.  My son and family are part of the same soccer club - Santa Clara Sporting.  Jonathan Manzo Chavez, affectionately called "Pretty Boy"  by his team mates, was headed home after the Saturday game.  He scored a rare goal and was headed home to buy new cleats after a great win. Instead, their mini-van was side swiped and he was airlifted to Children's Hospital Oakland, where he passed away upon arrival.

The tourney was about 90 minutes from our home in Silicon Valley.  My son's game was at 8 a.m. the next morning, so we along with other team families decided to spend the night in a hotel.  I received the message late Saturday evening and wasn't quite sure how to tell the boys and parents on the team.   Jonathan was one year older, but many of the boys knew him. They were all part part of the same team - the ones with the green and white striped jerseys.  Jonathan's team chose not to return to play in the tourney the next day and every game held a moment of silence before commencing with play.

I admit there are times when I am totally distracted at games or practice, like I am in a fog - seeing but not clearly.  I am usually thinking about the mile long to-do list I have not tackled,  the dinner I need to make or the report that is due to a client.  But during that Sunday game, I watched it with new eyes. I marveled at how tall my son has grown, how I could see the muscles in his strong legs and how he runs like a graceful gazelle - just like his father.  He is not the "best" player on the team, but at this game he was focused and simply played his best game yet.  I could tell that he was in his element, the year's practices had paid off and that he would not have wanted to be anywhere else but there.  They won and are seeded #1 as a team with no one person being the star.

When the paramedics came to Jonathan's aid, he was still wearing his Santa Clara Sporting uniform.  He begged them not to cut his jersey because he would need it for the game the next day.  Little did he know that he just played his last game.  It reminded me that as parents we get so caught up on things that just don't matter - a incorrect game call, complaining about how early a game is or winning the game.  The boys however, just want to be playing. They just want to be out there with their team mates - goofing around, making fart jokes, burping and having fun.  After all that is what being 9 is about, right?

As a mama, I have been hugging my kids a whole lot more lately.  I have a new respect for a game that this ten year old loved so much.    I have been trying to savor the moments of joy that I get to witness every day. Thank you Jonathan for helping to clear up the fog I have been in.

How to Help: Financial support and donations to help defray hospital and burial costs can be made electronically via a PayPal Account set up for the Chavez family, or checks can be sent in the name of "Jonathan Manzo Chavez Memorial Trust" (Acct # 376000010) to the United Labor Bank at 2550 N. First Street, Suite 102, San Jose, Calif. 95131. They can also be mailed to the Santa Clara Sporting office at 282 Brokaw Road, Santa Clara, Calif. 95050.

Cross posted to SV Moms Blog.

Blog World Expo Weekend

This weekend I had the chance to attend Blog World Expo in Las Vegas. Yes, what happens in Vegas usually stays in Vegas - except for when you are attending at blogging conference. Then everything said and done is documented and sent around the world via twitter, blog posts and actual talking to each other the next morning. It was a good time - a few interesting panels and many great parties.

Like any conference, the real learning happens in the hall ways, over drinks and when meeting new folks or folks you have met online. It was a huge cross section of bloggers - tech, real estate, military, political, and the godbloggers. It made for a crazy mix of folks.

Here's a snap from the TechSet party at the Mirage's Bare pool, where normally women pay $20 bucks to lay poolside and men pay $40.00. Swanky! Met loads of folks and quite a few free and overpriced drinks.

Had the opportunity to speak this year as a last minute replacement with City Mama and Susan Getgood at the "How to Pitch to (Mom) Bloggers" panel. We had more people in the room than I thought given the audience of BWE and had a ton of questions during and afterwards. Susan kept the session moving and being both a marketer and a mom she had a ton to contribute. Stefania and Susan seriously kick ass. Go over to City Mama's post to read what she didn't get to say on the panel to PR folks. Again, she. kicks. ass. Enuf said.

I learned a whole bunch and left with a million new ideas of what I could do to beef up my personal blog and helped me clarify why I even write this blog. It also helped validate our strategies for launching my latest venture Lookiloos. Most importantly, reminded me that I actually knew more about this than I gave myself credit for.

A few key take aways include:
* Twitter can mobilize masses - or just be an avenue for sharing what you had for lunch.
* At the end of the day, it is ALL about great content. (ala Guy Kawasaki)
* There are a gazillion social media tools and you DON'T have to use them all - just the ones that will work for you or will help you reach your audience.
* Men think a "Hotchick" can sell anything on a video pod cast. (Oh geez, that must explain Sarah Palin!)
* Pack lunch when going to BWE - cuz, you're on your own for food.
* Even boys get giddy when they meet someone they only know online - SO cute to watch. Kinda like BlogHer without all the hugging and squealing.
* Marketers still struggle with figuring out how to outreach to mom bloggers - to some it is a complete mystery that I am not sure they will ever master.

The expo floor had a lot of resources with some great swag. I picked up a few videos including "The Real John McCain" and "Uncounted: The New Math of American Elections" from the BlogCritics booth. I was hoping to win a new wii game from the Yard Barker booth, but left with a ping pong ball. (uh, thanks...) I also got some antibacterial gel from Tara at the Lijit booth. (A very cool tool you all should install on your blogs asap!)

The best swag of the weekend had to be my Maker's Mark Drink Shaker. The MM bus was handing them out, while they were signing up voters. (Does a MOMocrat proud.) As I loaded 4 shakers into my suitcase, I overheard one young woman admit she was not registered and wasn't thinking she had the chance to do so since she traveled so much. The MM person quickly pointed out the computers they had onboard the bus and told her if she registered she could have 2 shakers. She actually went on the bus and signed up! Hot damn, nicely done MM dude! Nicely done!

Overall, great weekend. Now on to figuring out what it all means.