Coming Out

The day before national coming out day, Benja (formerly known as Ben), started talking about the day.  We often talk about social political topics, so it was not that out of character.  I discussed how challenging it had been for my brother and how I hoped it was easier now.  Then the night before, he accidentally head slammed Lotta into the wall when he was playing with the girls.  Which unfortunately, again, is not that out of character.  He doesn't mean to hurt them, it just happens.  (Zibbi has taken to telling Benja that she doesn't love him, she likes him.  I think she's trying to say the phrase where you tell a child, "I will always love you, I just sometimes don't like what you do."  Or, she's trying to let him know, he still needs to work on winning her love.  They are at the like phase, not yet onto the love phase.)  Anyway.  After the head slam, Benja, as an apology, said, that I could go ahead and tell Aunt Susan that he is gay, as an apology.  I was like, "what??" I became super excited.  I texted

Susan, "All our dreams are coming true, Benja just came out!"  Years previously, we'd discussed how absolutely fabulous it would be to have our sons be gay and fantastic like our brother, Kip and his fantastic husband, Patrick.  Then, I worried that maybe I was TOO excited.  So I somehow reigned myself back in and told Benja that I would love whomever he loved because I love him.  The whole thing was so shocking because he had never ever expressed interest in being attracted to anyone.  Any time I would mention anything remotely related to dating, sex, puberty he would suddenly become highly interested in the surrounding

architecture.  Now he is extremely into embracing gay culture, and what that means to him--giving fashion and decorating advice, wearing numerous rainbows at a time, enjoying broadway musicals....

Eyes on Word Choice

A few days ago, Zibbi noticed the moon out during the day.  She proclaimed that her eyesight is so fantastic she can even see the moon during the day.  She explained that she'd had an eye test during school.  Now she can see the moon during the day.  Apparently this is a side effect of school eye exams.  Who knew?

Benja was telling a story at the table, and he used the word "brang".  Lotta corrected him by saying, no, it's bringed.  I chimed in, to say that no, it's actually brought.  They both looked at me like I was crazy.  Brought.  Who came up with that crazy word?  Very soon after, again at the table Zibbi used the word lightened.  And Lotta once again corrected her with the word, "lit ened".  I again suggested an all together different word  "lit" and was met with a look of exasperation by all.  The English language is hard to explain.  Good thing I have Alexi and/or Siri to back me up. 

The mysterious mail carrier...

Lotta told me recently that she used to think the mail carrier was like Santa Claus.  He was not supposed to be seen by anyone, so would sneak around the neighborhood delivering mail only when no one was watching.  I told her at one point we had a super friendly mail carrier.  I would often chat with him while waiting at the bus stop.  One day after Ellie died, I was curious if he knew, by the mail we were receiving at the time, if he knew about Ellie's death.  I ended up telling him how she'd died recently, and how it was 13 days away from her birthday.  He stopped, shocked.  He told me that his daughter had the exact same birth day.  I could tell it really shook him up, made him feel vulnerable for his own family.  Soon after, his route was switched.  And I wondered if he'd requested a switch because he couldn't handle that kind of vulnerability.  I know the world doesn't actually revolve around me...Luckily, maybe a year later, I ran into him when I was walking around town.  We were both equally excited to see one another once more.  I was startled when he even leaned in for a hug.  He explained that he'd been reassigned another route, that he missed his old one.  And I of course, told him, we missed him too.  I just think it's so magical when you actually get closure on something and you don't have to just keep wondering what happened or making up your own endings.

Strengths Focus

The day Thom left for his recent business trip, I decided we would implement a strengths finding program during.  (As recommended in the book, "The Strengths Switch" by Lea Waters, PhD.)  The idea is to identify and write down any strengths you see a family member exhibiting in order to encourage more use of strengths.  I went to Dollar Tree and after MUCH debate and texting with my friend Jennifer, I purchased a clip board for each child with "computer paper".  I like that it's called "computer paper", it makes me want to take it home and try to stick it in my laptop.  Anyway.  When the girls arrived home from school, I explained what we were going to do.  Basically, we were going to try to catch other family members using his/her strength, forcing us to think about what we LIKED rather than what we didn't.  The conversation ended with Zibbi smacking Lotta across the face and Lotta retaliating with a swift kick.  As Thom proclaimed when I described the scene, "NO, not THAT kind of strength!!"

Sensible and Safe

Always wear a helmet when riding an oversize bike.

For some reason, Zibbi decided it would be a good idea to crawl into the bathtub head first, I know in her mind it somehow made all the sense in the world.  Her hands were supporting her, but she very nearly splatted across the tub.  When she emerged from this debacle, she explained how important it is to protect your head because your brain controls everything!  Maybe even your heart.  (They are discussing safety at school right now).  I responded with how that was why having a tumor in her brain was so problematic for Ellie.  I went on to say that we do have a skull to protect our brains from occasional head injury.  Not to encourage head banging, I cautioned that the problem happens when your brain is repeatedly hit, such as for football players.  Even the helmet cannot protect their brains from repeated assault.  Then, Zibbi stopped and wondered if Ellie had played football.  I said that she had not.  Then Zibbi wondered how Ellie had a tumor in her brain.  I told her that no one really knows why some people grow tumors.  But I thought that maybe before Ellie came into her body, she decided she wanted to come here and spread love and do that through having a brain tumor.  Even though she wouldn't be here long, she'd spread lots of joy in the short time she was here.  This explanation made NO sense at all to Zibbi (but again, she hadn't really proven her sensibility either...)

That Kindergarten Logic

Thom returned from a week long business trip to Las Vegas yesterday.  Benja is calling it Thom's "midlife crisis".  Zibbi pondered why it was call "lost"Vegas.  And we all decided because when you go there you LOSE a lot of money.  Lotta declared it's actually LOSS Vegas, not LOST Vegas. 

As we were preparing to leave the house one day, Zibbi suddenly sang, "damn".  Lotta and I stopped and said, "What did you say?"  She explained that she accidentally said "damn", but at least it wasn't it's much worse cousin, "dammit".  It's definitely becoming PG-13 around here...

Rocking Out!

Benja and I went to see School of Rock the musical (!).  When we arrived the usher shouted way up to the tippy top of the theatre that we were the ones in row O (the very last row).  If I'd had the energy, I would have raced up those stairs like Rocky.  It was exciting to feel "recognized", even for being the back row sitters.  To make you even more jealous, we had the entire back row to ourselves (all four seats).  Luxurious, I know.  So we spread out and enjoyed the view from up there.  I had consumed a large cup of tea and suddenly in the middle of the first act, I urgently needed to use the bathroom.  When we sat down, I noticed that there was an exit door close to our seats.  I took the door, but noticed as it closed, that it locked behind me.  I was confident there must be another way out.  I walked down the hallway and saw there was a staff bathroom, with a handwritten sign, requesting the door remain open.  I was desperate at this point, so I closed the door and peed as fast as I humanly could.  Feeling relieved, I emerged, ready to enjoy the rest of the show.  I saw a door back into the theatre, but it said, "staff only" also.  I checked it anyway.  It was locked.  I raced up and double checked the door I had emerged from.  Still locked.  There was one other option, the only door (besides the bathroom) that was open.  It said "Exit to Mifflin Street".  This being my only option, I took it. 

Again, the door locked behind me.  I raced down to the next floor.  It was locked.  The next floor, same deal...until, I made it to street level and exited the building.  I raced around the block, where every door was an exit door until finally finding the door we had originally entered.  Standing at the entrance were three security guards.  I must have looked strange, with no coat or bag, just a flustered person race walking into the building.  I quickly explained that I'd gotten locked out.  One of the guards, scoffed, saying this was not possible.  The other guard, realized I had exited the fire exit.  He offered to escort me back in.  As we began walking, he asked, "So you need to go back stage?"  I spluttered, no, I was in the audience, when he realized I wasn't actually a part of the show, he lost interest in me and pointed me towards an elevator.  In front of the elevator, there were two more ushers who asked what I was doing.  After explaining, once again, as quickly as I could, I raced up the elevator (OVERexplaining is the only kind of explaining I do).  Luckily the usher on my floor recognized me (I'm row O!)  During the intermission, Benja and I laughed over how funny it would have been if I'd ended up wandering on stage, yelling that I would find my way back to the last row.  I didn't leave our row again till the show was finished.  Just in case....

Becoming Street Wise...

A few weeks after school started, as we were eating dinner, Zibbi suddenly stuck her middle finger up and said, "Did you know this is a bad word??!!"  Apparently, one of her classmates had made the gesture in class and educated everyone else on how negatively this gesture is viewed by the surrounding adults.  What struck me was how easily Zibbi could stick up that one "naughty" finger, I'd never experienced anyone flipping me off with such beauty and ease.

Then, on Thanksgiving day, we watched School of Rock.  Benja and I were going to the musical the very next day (!!), we decided we should watch the original movie as research.  It is rated PG-13, but it is a 2003 PG-13, which I hoped was less risky than a 2018 PG-13 rating.  After the movie finished, we were working on getting Thanksgiving Dinner on the table.  Suddenly Zibbi shouted, "Dad, I know what your ass is."  Thom and I paused and, having misinterpreted some of her words in the past, inquired what she'd just said.  She repeated, "Dad, I know what your ass is."  Still unsure, we asked once more.  Zibbi responded that your "ass" is your "bummy".  No misunderstanding this time.  Maybe watching a PG-13 was a mistake, however, it was Thom's favorite part of the holiday.

Little Balls of Love

A few weeks ago, I volunteered in Zibbi's kindergarten class.  In previous years, I have tried to volunteer with a younger sibling (or two) in tow, with extremely limited success.  I even speculate that after the disruption I caused one year that the school district actually changed the policy so no younger siblings are allowed during volunteering. (Sorry!) I know, the world doesn't actually revolve around me, it just feels like it sometimes.  Even though I don't actually have any younger children with me now, I was feeling nervous about volunteering.  Zibbi's teacher said she needed help running "literacy" stations (which Zibbi had been calling "little c" stations.  She was disgusted with us, when we asked if she was learning letters at "little c" stations.  She already KNOWS the letters...)  Before I volunteered, I took a deep breath and made the intention to spread some joy in the kindergarten class room.  As I was leaving, a crowd of 5-6 year-olds surrounded me, asking for hugs.  One of Zibbi's favorite friends requested a hug and told me she wished I was her mom.  I was both flattered and shocked.  I know her two moms and after the initial flattery wore off, I wondered how many moms did she need!?!?  Was she trying to collect moms? Another little girl gave me a big hug, then paused.  She exclaimed, "How do you SMELL SO good??"  I also wasn't expecting that comment.  Leaving the school, I had that feeling that I had failed on my mission of spreading joy.  Instead, those little bundles of love left me covered in joy.

Black Face

We have been a flurry of home projects as of late.  Fourteen years worth of ideas are FINALLY starting to come to light.  One project, I worked on last week was spray painting doors to cover Benja's closet black. I thought I'd put all my project items away.  Then Sunday morning as I'm cleaning the kitchen, Zibbi suddenly screams out in surprise and panic and pain.  I look over and she has the spray paint can in her hand and she'd pushed the button.  Unfortunately, the can was pointed towards her face, so paint was in her eyes, on her cheek, chin, neck.  My immediate thought, was "OMG she looks like we were trying to do a "black face" thing, this is NOT a good look, now or ever."  Quickly, I grabbed a wash cloth and started rubbing off the paint, while shouting for Thom at the same time.  Luckily, we were able to get all the paint off around her eye. And after a LOOONG DEEP bath (her favorite kind), most of the paint was off.  There's still a bit on her neck that looks like she's been rolling in the dirt, just as a reminder to put my supplies away. 

Distractions

Face painting reactivated Zibbi's smile...

After flooding last month, Madison has become a swamp land.  The Mosquito population is completely thriving, even in the morning.  Not our usual for September.  Sunday was the Wish Walk, not only was it already warm in the morning, did I mention the mosquitoes?  Holy moly, they adore Zibbi and I worry they may just fly off with her...As we registered for the walk, one of the volunteers mentioned that mascots were on hand.  Zibbi is TERRIFIED of mascots, so she immediately burst into tears and hid herself.  To distract Zibbi, I suggested we create a bracelet.  On a table next to us, were bowls filled with bracelets that read, "I wish to go..." OR "I wish to be..." So everyone could imagine and share what wish they would request, if they had a wish granted.  Zibbi told me she wanted "I wish to go..." and when I inquired what I should write, she said, "home"...so much for my distraction techniques. 

It's the THOUGHT...

On a Saturday recently, when everyone woke up, Benja proudly proclaimed how he'd been up for hours.  I inquired if he'd made us all breakfast (since he is into cooking right now).  He paused and said, "I thought about it, but I didn't.  But you know, it's the THOUGHT that counts..."  Now we use that excuse for EVERYTING.  I THOUGHT about doing laundry, but I didn't.  Even though you have no clean clothes, it's the THOUGHT that counts....I feel like his Improv camp is really paying off. 

Frenemies for Life....

To celebrate Benja turning 13, we went to see Hamilton in Chicago.  Since then, we have been all Hamilton music, all the time.  There's a song where Hamilton talks about his frenemy (friend + enemy) Aaron Burr.  After a listening, Zibbi told me that Lotta is HER frenemy.  I thought that was pretty an accurate assessment, their loving playtimes can so quickly turn violent, before there is even time to respond.  Then, Zibbi sighed and said, "And I have to LIVE with my frenemy..."

You are Beautiful

As many mornings as we've been able, Lotta, Zibbi and I have biked to school.  The fresh morning air and bright blue skies are a big incentive.   Along the way, there is a billboard that reads, "You are beautiful".  A recent morning I commented to Lotta how some people do not feel beautiful, and so this billboard was extremely important at reminding anyone feeling ugly that they are beautiful.  Lotta seemed shocked that anyone would feel less than beautiful.  I think she may have even had a very Ellie like "really".  She pondered this for a moment and asked if I thought more women than men felt less than beautiful.  I agreed that this seemed to be the case.  My hope for future Lotta is that she continues to feel beautiful, and flaunt her own signature style, and that even the thought of not feeling beautiful is shocking.  Today Lotta decided to wear as many jewels to summer school as she could. 

A Nocturnal Party Animal

Almost every evening, unless she is ill, Zibbi suddenly gets a super huge burst of energy as soon as the

lights are out.  She will then check outside to see how dark it is.  Get another drink of water.  Practice some yoga moves, do some burpees and other exercises.  Fall off of the bed.  Walk around the room.  Scratch her many itches.  Suddenly urgently, need to have a lengthy discussion about a random topic.

Recently, I decided to try out a Loving Kindness Meditation on her to see if it would help her calm more quickly.  In the first step, you close your eyes and send "loving-kindness to yourself".  Zibbi immediately said she was going to send loving-kindness to her "bigger" self.  It struck me what a fantastic idea this was, as a 4-year-old, she is so very in love with herself right now.  At four, she's able to be courageous in ways she may not in the future.  And I know some time in the future, she will have challenging moments when she will not feel so freely loving of herself.  What a beautiful package to send to her future self, some love and some kindness.  I hope that her future self feels that "thrown" loving kindness when she needs it most.

Reenacting When Harry Met Sally...

There is a scene in When Harry Met Sally where Sally makes it well known that she is upset with Harry by being extra pleasant to everyone around her, while she blatantly ignores Harry.  I often feel this way with Lotta lately.  For example, she made me a Valentine's card that said, "Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, I like you".  Then, she made a Valentine's card for Thom proclaiming her love for him.  Today, she was trying to explain something to me and immediately started shouted to indicate how unintelligent she finds me.  Then Thom asked a question and she immediately reverted to, "Yes, Daddy?"

The thought came to me the other night that Lotta NEEDS more hugs.  She is making it challenging for me to issue the more hugs that she needs.  Or maybe I need them.  I just didn't think the being angry getting off the bus at merely seeing my face would begin at SEVEN.  I thought I had a few more years of love.

Fortunately, the more Lotta becomes hateful, the more Zibbi becomes loving.  The other morning she told me, "I just LOVE you SO much."  She's decided she loves me so much that she wants to marry me (the rule is, if you kiss on the lips, you are married...)

Lotta's Love Life

A few months ago, the mother of one of Lotta's classmates contacted me to ask if I knew that Lotta had agreed to marry her son, Walter.  In shock, I told her I was unaware that a proposal had been accepted. A few days later, a fellow student approached Thom, to let him know how Lotta and Walter loved eachother.  So it seemed official.  When I questioned Lotta, she shrugged and explained that it would be a LONG time before they were grown and able to marry.

Maybe a month later, Lotta told me she had a different boyfriend in her class.  And I asked what happened to Walter.  She again shrugged, as if saying, why couldn't she have both options in her life.  A boyfriend NOW and an entirely different husband later.  Seemed reasonable to me.

As we were talking about all that has to happen in order for a baby to be born, Lotta decided she would prefer to adopt.  AND she wants to marry Naja, her best friend.  I am SO confused.

What's your size?

Once we finish reading and turn out the light for bedtime, Zibbi loves to either make strange noises with her mouth OR chat about whatever pops into her mind.  Last night, she suddenly said, "Even though I'm small outside, I'm BIG inside."  She said, she'd read that in a Madeline book.  I thought, that perfectly describes both the story book character AND Zibbi. 

At dinner, we like to do Questions for Kids.  One question last night was what 5 celebrities would we want to have dinner with? Zibbi decided she wanted to have female superheroes.  She was crestfallen when she discovered they were not actually "real" people.  We decided they would still be a fine choice.  We thought of Wonder Woman, SuperGirl, Bat Girl, Cat Woman.  No one could think of a fifth female superhero.  Zibbi suddenly decided that she didn't care what the rules were, she really wanted to have ME as her dinner guest.  She raced over to my chair, jumped in my lap and proclaimed, "Because, I just love you so much."  I just wanted to document that she said that, just in case she's not feeling so loving in the future towards me.

The Dirt on Ben

At last month's Moth, the topic was Dirt.  Here's the story I told, which I didn't feel went as well as I'd hope (I froze on stage), but I thought I'd share the story here.  Ben had asked me to tell a story about him (Ellie always seems to make it into my stories..)

When my son could barely walk, I discovered him pretending to throw up in a stack of pink bins in the hospital.  He’d witnessed his sister using those containers for just that purpose so many times.  Even at that young age, he had had plenty of experience with the dirty, messy side of the hospital.   His older sister had a brain tumor, so he was in and out of the hospital all the time.  And at that point, he just thought that’s what you did when you saw one of those buckets.  It was his normal.  

From the very start, Ben experienced hospital life.   For example, there was the time I was nursing newborn Ben in Ellie’s hospital room.  Suddenly, her anti seizure medication relaxed Ellie so much that she stopped breathing.  The room filled with responding medical personnel.  When they had Ellie stabilized, one of them surprised, said “oh, you are nursing!”

Honestly, it was easy to ignore Ben, he was so healthy and vibrant, compared to all Ellie’s medical issues.  I mean how do you even compete physically with a brain tumor?  When Ben was 4, or maybe 5, he gave it a really good try when he had 8 cavities, plus strep throat PLUS Lyme’s disease.  THEN, he had an allergic reaction to the antibiotic he was on which left him polka dotted.  I was fairly certain I would win “worst mom of the year” medal that year.  Even right now they are competing as Ben asked me to tell a story about him, because somehow Ellie always sneaks her way into every Moth story I tell.  

During another hospital stay, Ellie had had a major surgery.  Ellie had been stuck in bed for a week, maybe longer recovering.  These were particularly challenging stays with a toddler in tow, as there were so many many bright, exciting buttons, just begging to be pushed.  Even though Ben was super young, just walking himself, he raced over to give his sister a huge excited hug, when he saw her trying to walk again, two physical therapists assisting her.  It was shocking that someone so young could understand how momentous it was that she was walking again (or trying to).  

And the last year of Ellie’s life, we were in and out of the PICU so many times, that Ben would pick her next room as we were departing, he was already anticipating the next stay, because he knew we would be back.  

The last few months, things became increasingly smelly and dirty, we were dealing with any and all bodily fluids you could imagine.  I knew if Ben saw or smelled anything that was happening in Ellie’s room, he would immediately start throwing up himself.  I tried my best to protect him from seeing and experiencing what was happening in there, for his sake, as well as mine (otherwise, I’d have TWO messes to clean up).  

Ben was 5 when his sister passed away.  At the end, he was this energetic little boy who would run into Ellie’s room and just scare the daylights out of her.  She would scream upon his arrival, not expecting his visit.  At the time

I thought of him as all caps BEN! With an exclamation point.  I desperately wanted him to remember how much Ellie loved him and not just her screaming for him to leave her room.  I wanted Ben to remember how Ellie always called him her best friend and how lucky she was to get to have a brother, whom she lived with, as her best friend.  How convenient is that? And I realized after Ellie died that the reason Ben’s favorite letter was “E” was because it started his sister’s name.  

Ben is now in Middle School, an age Ellie never reached.  Whenever there is a concert at school, it is always a bit shocking seeing all of Ben's classmates now, older than they are in my head.  And every time I walk in and feel weepy, and just cross my fingers they will play a sad piece that I can cry along to. A song so sad, I could look around me in astonishment to anyone NOT crying because, what are you a robot?  Every time, as I walk in to find a seat, Ben will spot me and start waving his hand wildly.  Instead of pretending he does not have parents, like his classmates, he just full on owns it.  It always makes my heart soar with love for his bravery and willingness to be who he is regardless of who he is surrounded by.  I once asked him how having Ellie as a sister impacted him, he said he felt like it made him kinder.  I have to agree, he has excelled in the kindness department.

Last week,  I volunteered for the Middle School.  One of the teachers stormed out, upset by a student.  Because apparently some of those middle schoolers can be real a-holes (I’m quoting here).  I offered her water, because that is recommended as helpful in any situation.  We started chatting and she asked who I was, and as soon as I said, "Ben Kennedy's mom", her whole face lit up.  It was as if just hearing his name, made her  feel as equally happy as she'd felt unhappy just moments before.  Which, of course, made me tear up.  That guy, somehow, has found a way to shine and jed (joy spread as Ellie would say) even in Middle School.  Somehow he was able to take all the messy, dirty, chaotic, neglectful parts of