“Safety Clown Says” … or, today was just a great day!

A few years ago, as the ice cream truck circled our neighborhood, Leon and I had a conversation about how slightly creepy and sort of Hameln-esque we found ice cream trucks.

Sure, back when we were kids the ice cream truck was exciting enough. Deep in the heat of summer, you would hear that alluring bell; run to your room to scrounge your pocket change together and then indulge in a syrupy sweet bomb pop, or an orange dreamsicle, or those really tasty strawberry shortcake bars and – if you were like most kids – you enjoyed every sticky faced moment of sugary bliss; but then you grew up and moved on to more sophisticated ice cream treats. And the neighborhood ice cream truck with its clanging bell and music-box soundtrack was forgotten.

Well, like so many other things these days, Leon and I have reevaluated our “oh-so-grown-up” attitudes toward the neighborhood ice cream truck.

Before I get to that, let me just say that today was an absolutely show-stopping day. I woke up with the birds at 5AM, but was content to dose with a sleepy smile on my face until I heard Miss Sydney at 6:45AM. (Actually, truth be told, I was waiting to hear her. Saturday mornings have become family snuggle time, and I honestly just could not wait for her to wake up. I know, I know – someday SHE will be the one waking us up at 6AM for cartoons and cereal, but now it’s my eagerness that wakes me up early!)

Finally, I heard it – just the hint of a nerfing around sound – and we were able to enjoy snuggle time, smile time , genuine happy, babbling, let’s-bother-daddy time.

And the day began.

The best part of the morning was packing up our gear and heading to our local nursery, Daniel’s Farm. We love Daniel’s. We buy all of our plants there: our herbs, our hanging baskets, and in the wintertime – our Christmas tree. It’s a family run farm with 15 greenhouses and we enjoy the owners, who always work the counter and are generous and willing to put up with me and the lists of odd plants that I bring with me, most usually discovered from garden plots I find in MidWest Living.

Sydney and I went to Daniel’s together. She “rode” in her snazzy front carrier. Sydney is very much into smells and colors these days – so the herb house was awesome fun, and she also proved a great help in selecting the pansies we took home. Hauling our treasures out to the truck, a kind older woman took pity on me with my pull-cart, infant, bag of soil, car seat, full-tray of herbs, diaper bag … etc. Her help put a smile on my face and convinced me yet again that people are often far kinder than we dare to imagine.

We headed home. Sydney napped. I gardened.

The day progressed, one content moment after another; nothing fancy or spectacular, just peaceful, calm and infinitely memorable.

Early evening found us enjoying a family walk at Laurel Park. We stopped and watched a family flying a kite and listened to the laughter of the man and his daughter. We caught up on our feelings, worries, concerns and joys … and when we heard the clang, clang of our younger years, Leon dashed for the truck to find his baggie of spare coins and we hailed the ice cream truck, picked out our familiar favorites (wow, prices have certainly gone up!) and our walk became this awesome combination of new family centeredness combined with yesteryear memories. It was pure bliss – those sticky fingers, I even managed (no surprise here) to drip orange dreamsicle all over my shorts! We laughed our heads off and discussed the finer merits of the modest offerings of the ice cream man (the menu hasn’t changed much in 20 years) and considered what a completely terrific Saturday evening we were having: ourselves, our baby, a beautiful park, our new stroller and the ice cream man.

Talk about enjoying the simple life.

The Simple Things

Who would ever have thought that a 30-minute excursion to the local market would be cause for much musing and reflection? I certainly never did. However, this week, after almost 4-months of fairly restricted home life, I went to the grocery store. More to the point, I went to the grocery store all by myself. I drove there and everything. The trip, from getting ready to pushing the cart to reading the headlines of gossip mags in line at the checkout to driving there and back, was completely exhilarating. I drank it all in ~ the new location of cilantro in the produce aisle; the new assortment of energy water (a need for Daddy Leon in our house these days since he remains bound and determined not to drink coffee, silly man!); the new “soup of the day” in the deli. For some reason, being able to successfully navigate such a mundane trip, after so many weeks of restrictions on even the most basic functions of life, gave me renewed energy.

Right now, life centers on Sydney’s needs. Her waking, sleeping, eating and … other functions ;-) are a source of great focus. Life is definitely defined anew. It's different and that's okay. In the midst of all this newness, I am also taking a graduate class – Media Law, if you can believe it. So last week found me entirely focused on baby and cramming in a few minutes of writing here and there to complete a paper covering First Amendment case law. This week, it’s a case study on tort law, specifically building a case for a libel suit that proves actual malice. Good stuff. And certainly interesting in between feedings, naps, diapering and tummy time (yes, we attempt just a bit each day already … it’s fun, not so much because Syd is terribly proficient at it yet, but because Bailey gets in on the action and she is fascinated by him!) Oh, and we have become newly addicted to Hannah Montana. Yep. That’s right. Late night wakeful periods at the Jameson Ranch might just find us with the T.V. tuned low to an episode with Billy Ray and all the crazy Hannah gang. … In light of all of this excitement ;-), maybe you can see why a solo-flight to the market was truly inspiring.

I don’t know about any of you, but my life has always been intensely driven. I love pushing my mind and talents and whole self in pursuit of good things, whether those things be experiences on the home front, the work front or just personal, “inside” things. It’s incredible to be experiencing these first few weeks as a new, young family. Leon and I love navigating challenges and this is no exception. We are being pushed in entirely new ways; what an awesome thing.

I love being intentional and reflective during any new experience. When I take the time to sit and “ponder” (to borrow from that most famous of mothers) all that is happening in my life, in our life and even already in Sydney’s life ~ I am so encouraged and inspired. Thus far, and I don’t want to paint too rosy a picture because there have been late night tears (ours included with Sydney’s) and mid-day melt-downs and early morning frustrations; but thus far, the pursuit of this good thing, this family life, this existence that eclipses “just” Leon and I, this new, weird adventure of our household with a baby, this life with Sydney is just the most incredible “thing” we can imagine!

And it’s only been three weeks ….

Wow. There’s plenty of trips to the market to come, plenty of simple life moments in which to revel and we can't wait.

Week by Week ... A Second Installment

This week has been a wonderful adventure for the Jameson family! Whether navigating 2AM feedings, or conquering diaper changes with only a minimum of fuss, or avoiding the occassional projectile spit-up ~ Leon and Gret are enjoying these early days of new parenting.

And thus far, our little Sydney is putting up with us and exhibiting tremendous tolerance for our blunders ...

(you know, like giving her the first sponge bath and getting soap in her eyes, oh dear ... we've already problem solved THAT little snag! And here's a shot from a successful bath with Grandma Jameson helping out!)

The first night was tough, we won't lie. And what we quickly realized during the successful nights since is that, as with so many things in life, attitude and mindset make all the difference. We would guess that most new parents carry, in the way-way-way back of their mind, a belief that "in time" things will return to "normal". 40-weeks of intentional preparation still doesn't quite pack the same wallop as that first night, when suddenly it becomes clear that the new normal is: this. And it's great and awesome and overwhelming and challenging all at once.

We have a little notebook in the nursery wherein we record the "ins and outs" of Sydney's day-to-day experiences. To make this little book more than just a physical rundown of Sydney's life, each night we take time to write down three things: today's beautiful moment, how Sydney grew today, and what Mommy and Daddy learned ... here are some highlights:

• We learned, "that when we take our time and are in the moment, there's no place we'd rather be. Our life won't go back - so much lies ahead."
• We learned, "That [we] each have given of ourselves for our family and we trust that the other knows it and loves them for it."
• We learned, "That we can't seem to beat the spit-up, no matter how hard we try, but we are determined to triumph yet!"
• We learned, "Too much stimuli and too many visitors leads to a long night for all! Help!"
• Finally, "Each day we learn more and more about working together ... and are stronger for it."

It's kind of exciting to wake up each day to a totally new sense of "expected." After 10 years of married life, it's sort of a strange thing to have no real idea of what the day will bring ... that in and of itself has been a challenge. But, we are realizing that being patient and open to whatever comes, being sensitive to and focused on all that God has granted us, and most of all "shelving" self in the interest of our family, our spouse and our child makes these days of total "new" absolutely awesome.

What more could anyone ask from a "normal" life?

"Hey, Kid! Go play with sticks."

Recently, my parents, our good friends, Doug and Carol, and Leon and I had a conversation about today's overly parented child.

You know the type ~ the poor child whose parent obsesses over every tiny detail; calls the teacher with insane worries and requests; actually watches their high school student's class-by-class attendance online via Power School and calls the teacher immediately if Junior is late to class, demanding an explanation; the early childhood parent more worried about Sally being gently disciplined (because it will most likely damage her fragile sense of emerging self) than by the fact that Sally can't recognize her alphabet letters; Helicopter Parents.

That bane of childhood who have taken all the fun out of growing up: no more home-baked birthday treats (somebody might have a peanut allergy or somebody’s parent might use fatty oils and real sugar); no more bicycles without helmets (though we still have school buses without seatbelts, go figure); no more climbing trees and playing sword fight with sticks or eating dirt or exhausting oneself playing with the neighborhood kids till all hours; no more hopping fences. We want a well-packaged childhood; after all that’s what’s safest for the children (plus, they don’t ruin their baby UGG boots and Ralph Lauren, monogrammed backpacks).

When I look at the rules and regulations of today's pre-middle school set and the obsessive tendencies of parents even on the high school level, I wonder how my generation escaped childhood alive. I mean, for crying out loud, didn't my parents love me?! They let me carry a backpack loaded with books and didn't give me a wheeled suitcase to haul my things! I could be crippled or maimed! Are they going to pay my chiropractic bills? They didn't feed me organic everything ~ I actually ate Mac and Cheese made with (gulp) powdered cheese PRODUCT! I ate cookie dough batter made with (brace yourselves here) RAW EGGS! I could have high cholesterol or worse! Dangerous hoydens.

Lest you think we intend to raise Sydney with no rules or sense of safety ~ let me be clear to say that Leon and I fully own that the world is a "dangerous" place. We also appreciate the opportunity to make smart choices and protect our child in a world that largely feigns deep care for the young, but consistently creates systems that threaten them. (And I do love baby UGG boots … come on, seriously cute!) The point is not to be typically-American and pendulum swing 100% the other direction (I mean, after all we seem to live in a culture that absolutely refuses a moderate position on anything from politics to how I feed my baby) ... The point is, all this perfectionist parenting scares me just a little because I have a tendency to ... (I'm sure this will SHOCK most of you) people-please and push for perfection.

Seriously. The other day Leon and I got into a discussion about which language to introduce Syd to (in addition to English of course) from the start. I don't want a million toys, books and games with 15-different languages, so I want to pick just one. You know: Mandarin is all the rage but Spanish is so practical ... oh dear. Here we go ... Gen X parenting! STOP the madness.

I am slowly developing this theory about my generation as parents; we who graced TIME magazine as the apathetic generation; whose Boomer parents were criticized for leaving us to fend for ourselves as latchkey kids and ATARI addicts (and who, true to form really didn’t care all that much about the criticism). The result is … I think we are truly overcompensating.

You can almost hear the inner mantra: “WE won't raise our kids that way. WE will be involved parents. WE will make SURE people know how completely in tune we are with our child's every need. BE GONE peanut butter; BE GONE getting to know neighbor kids whose parents I don't know (and don't care to walk down the street to get to know ...); BE GONE childhood wildness!”

We'll see how Leon and I do once our little girl is here. Truth is; I was raised to be inventive and imaginative. Super-sized plastic Fischer Price kitchen that (as a friend recently wrote me) is larger than my living room? Who needs it! I loved building a clubhouse (and one very inventive time, a house boat!) out of large moving boxes. Crazy bike-like toy that attaches to my television so that my child can peddle like a mad gerbil in a cage and get some exercise? Go ride your bike outside! (Oh, wait … our neighborhood eschewed sidewalks for larger lawns … )

But maybe Sydney will want these things? Maybe she won't appreciate a mom and dad who tell her to play with sticks? Maybe she won’t want to lick the cake batter bowl because she learned about salmonella at school? Will we be able to provide our child with a sense of old-fashioned play and adventure and risk in a 2008 world of risk management, helmets and home-baking free classrooms?

I think we owe it to her to try ...

Then again ...

Maybe I am just inviting disaster. How does one say, "It's all fun and games ..." in Madarin anyway?

For more on this topic, check out Chris Mercogliano’s new book, In Defense of Childhood: Protecting Kids' Inner Wildness. [Click here] to read an interview.