Being Scared

The news is incomprehensible and I'm not really sure what to write in response to the shootings in Newtown. The specifics are still coming in, the number of dead still rising and the grief in any public place palpable. It seems like only yesterday that I was writing about the shooting in Aurora, Colo. And, as we've come to know, I'm sure there will be other horrific days like the one we are experiencing today.

We're all scared. We're all wondering how those children, those poor, suffering, weak, shocked and innocent children, will go back to school. How will this affect their lives not only in the now, but in the future? The saving grace, or at least what I keep telling myself, is that children are resilient.

I'm scared that I could, at one point in my life, bring kids into this world, a world where hearing the words, "children are among the dead" always takes your breath away, but they don't come across as a complete shock in a world that never ceases to be mad and angry and mean. While I cannot wait to be a parent and share the joy of life, there also seems to be a crazy amount of pressure on any parent to keep their children safe. And how can we when things like this happen?

Let Them Be Little

This weekend was filled with a lot of football.  Saturday was all about USC football with the boy.  We ventured out to the desert (aka Riverside) to hang out with some friends to watch the Steelers vs. Raiders game.  But what I took out of this weekend wasn't that I'm a really good girlfriend to go watch all of these football games (which I do enjoy, by the way).  No, what I realized more and more was what kind of kids I want.

I realize I might have lost you there.  There's not a clear connection between football and children, especially when you throw in a tailgate or two along the way.  But, my dear friends, let me show you how this is done.

While watching USC win, there were two brothers sitting in front of us.  I'd peg them at about ages five and three (or younger) and they were THE cutest.  Both were geared up in USC red and gold from head to toe; my favorite were the ears sticking out from under the too-big baseball caps.  I was skeptical of the parents at first.  The mom had her nose pierced like a bull and had a half-shaved head with crazy-big earrings.  I totally judged.  But the boys put my judgement to shame.  They were extremely well-behaved and I could tell that they genuinely loved each other by their actions.  The older brother would push the little brother back into his seat if he got too close to the edge.  They shared a water bottle.  The older boy pointed out the airplane because he knew his brother would get a kick out of it.  They didn't cry.  They didn't scream.  They weren't running around.  But they were still happy, funny, friendly kids.  So I have to give mad props to the parents for the way those boys were acting; I'm sure it's not easy raising two young boys.

Take-away lesson number one: Raise kids who know how to behave in public but still have fun.

On Sunday I had the pleasure of hanging out with two little girls who are six and three.  They reminded me so much of me and my sister; they played really, really well together.  They spoke the same language and fed off of each other's enthusiasm.  They were so creative!  At one point, I found myself in a "doctor's waiting room" with an un-diagnosed illness.  After that, we were at a crazy dance party.  And then, of course, they had to take me to the yoga show.  

My favorite part of the day, though, was when they were running around in the backyard (which was mostly dirt and rocks) barefoot.  They weren't worried about their feet getting dirty or stepping on painful stones.  They were having too much fun showing me their chickens and swing set.  This struck a chord in me.  Most of our backyard growing up was gravel and although the first couple of steps out there always stung a bit, once your feet got used to it, the darkening sky at the end of the night was the only thing holding you back from a whole day of playing.  

Take-away lesson number two: Teach girls that it is perfectly acceptable to be dirty and running barefoot is freeing. 

These are obviously only two things that I hope to instill in my children.  But it's so good to see that children can grow up without iPads or distractions from their parents (which I didn't see at all this weekend).  Kids can be kids.  That's what I want. 

An Educational Shift

I am a nerd, therefore I like NPR.  My favorite part of public radio, though, is the once-weekly show, This American Life.  It is a long-form radio show that touches upon a wide array of topics.  The most recent show, entitled "Back to School" was mind-blowing.

This is the synopsis of the show that is posted on This American Life's website: As kids and teachers head back to school, we wanted to turn away from questions about politics and unions and money and all of the regular stuff people argue about, and turn to something more optimistic - an emerging theory about what to teach kids, from Paul Tough's new book, "How Children Succeed". 

I would hope that everyone reading this would listen to the show because it is hard to write a really good synopsis that includes ALL of the topics they touch upon.  But I will point out a few highlights that I found extremely interesting.

* When telling middle school girls "scientists have found that you can improve your intelligence" on a regular basis, studies show that those girls, who have often "fallen apart" when it comes to math, catch up to their boy counterparts in that subject.  They close the gap and perform at the same level as boys; the girl's average math test scores were the same as the boy's average math test scores.  Telling students they can improve their intelligence changes the mindset of these kids.  They are learning resilience and optimism.  That alone can change test scores. Holy cow!

* Kids who have "attached parents" - those parents who empathize with their children and comfort them during stressful situations - are more socially confident and successful later in their lives.  They're better at dealing with other people and picking themselves up after setbacks.  It seems like common sense.  But for those kids who don't have attached parents, they don't have those non-cognitive skills and therefore don't do well in school (focusing on non-cognitive skills is the premise of most of the show).  Teaching parents how to be empathetic and connect with their children can help those children later on in school.  Studies show that having an empathetic parent who can be supportive during stressful times (poverty-stricken childhoods, domestic abuse situations, etc.) can reverse the effects that those stressful situations create.  Potentially changing a child's life is as simple as teaching his or her parent how to be empathetic and supportive, something that can help even the poorest of the poor. Again, holy cow!

I truly believe that education is one of THE MOST important things in a person's life.  But here's where I often stray from other's beliefs.  I believe that money doesn't have to buy education.  My sister and I went to public schools from kindergarten to the day we got our high school diplomas.  She went on to get a bachelor's degree from Stanford University and I received a bachelor's degree from Colorado State University and a master's from Stanford University. We didn't go to some fancy pants boarding school and my parents didn't splurge on overpriced tutors.  Instead of those things, we had them, our parents.

I know that our parents were the driving force behind our successes academically.  From practically the beginning, they read to us every single night.  They asked us questions. They encouraged us to ask questions (my mom would always send us off to school saying, "Ask good questions").  They took us places.  They let us experience things.  They expanded our minds.  They talked to us like adults.  They pushed us (but not too hard). They built our confidence.

We went to rural public schools that didn't have the highest achievement records in the state and we could have drifted through. While I can't give all of the credit to my parents (my sister and I took upper-level high school classes and were involved in a lot of activities), without them, who knows where we would have been.  

I'm not saying teachers aren't important.  And I'm not saying that parents can do it all on their own.  But what I am saying, and what the This American Life show describes, is it is clear that outside forces beyond what we learn in the classrooms affect how we learn and how we succeed. 

One Day at a Time

"The only way to live happily ever after is to do it one day at a time."
 -- Unknown


As of tomorrow, I will have lived 9,125 days here on this earth. 

Over 9,000 days.

That's a whole ton of sunrises and sunsets, of breakfasts and lunches, of ice cream cones and barefoot miles.

That's more tears than I can count, more hugs that have warmed my body and kisses that have made my soul soar.

In that amount of time, I have lived in four different states six different times (seems like I can't get away from the southwest).  I have cycled countless miles along the beach and up in the mountains.  My face has gotten sunburned and windburned and eaten by mosquitoes (don't ask).  

Looking back over more than 9,000 days is mind boggling.  So much has happened in those days.  So much has changed, whether it is my hair style, my shoe size or the boy who is holding my hand.  And yet, so much has stayed the course. My parents have loved me every single day, regardless of what I did in the 24 hours before or the 24 hours after.  I know that just like the sun will come up, they will love me.  That is a gift that not everyone can say they have.

I met my favorite person around day 824.  Even today, at the 9,124th day, and again in another 9,000 days, she will be the bestest sister a girl could ever wish for, or even have the gall to ask for.

Around day 8,245, I was a graduate for the third time in my life.  Wait, do I count kindergarten and 8th grade graduation in that?  Hmmmm...probably not.  Three times I have gotten up on a stage when my name was read, reveling in the feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction, finality and beginnings, while also being scared out of my ever-loving mind.  I have become an educated woman who is constantly wondering, asking and learning.  I don't know exactly when babies become curious beings, but I am still as curious now as I was that day.







I lost my grandpa around the 6,390th day.  That was one of a handful of truly, deeply, heart-wrenchingly sad days of my time here. I have been blessed to have lived, so far, an extremely happy life, one that hasn't been hidden under rain clouds or despair.

Between days 8,925 and today, I fell in love and have given my heart, fully, to another human being.  Hopefully there are more days that feel like these in my future.






 

I became responsible for a life somewhere in the 8,000's.  Every day has been a learning experience: Dogs like to chew carpet.  Dogs like to pee on carpet.  Carpet starts to smell after being peed on too many times.  Dogs like to lick you.  Dogs eat a lot of food.  Dogs need a ton of exercise.  Dogs are truly wo(man)'s best friend. 





People always say, "Man, am I old," in reference to themselves.  And in some cases, it's justified...if you're 89 years old and have lived a full life.  But don't tell me that at the age of 28 or 34, you can truly call yourself old.  Sure, you might be 10,220 days into life, or even 12,410 days.  But what is that compared to 32,485 days.

32,485 days.  89 years. 

That's what I'm striving for (and more).  I want each and every one of those days to combine together to make a happily ever after.  I'm already a third of the way there, and think of all I have experienced up 'til now.  

Here's to tomorrow...and the next day...and the next...

If Heaven Wasn't so Far Away

As I was driving home the other day, I heard this song on the radio and it made me think of my grandpa.

My grandpa, Jose Vigil, was never able to see any of his granddaughters graduate from high school, much less college.  He won't get to watch any of us get married or have babies.  He was barely a tangible presence in my younger cousin's life, as he died when she was still young; she has a few memories of him, but not too many.  My sister and I were lucky enough to have a solid childhood of experiences with him.

• Going to the shed to get the air compressor to pump up the old, worn-out-to-the-point-where-the-leather-was-smooth basketball.
• Drinking from the outside water spigot.
• Going tubing down the small stream on their property.  We'd enter the property, hop into the bed of the truck (the only place we could ride in the bed), and drive up to the stream.  There, we'd cruise down the stream for a bit, but usually it was too cold to stay in too long.  Once it was lunchtime, my grandma would feed us Vienna Sausages & potted meat on saltine crackers.  We'd drink it down with the barrel juice drinks (you know the kind).  Those were sweet, sweet times when life was wrapped up in that one afternoon.  Nothing could get better than that.
• Riding horses.
• Playing in the hay loft (which was usually cut short by my sneezes and runny noses...dang allergies).
• Watching baseball on TV with the sound off (the announcers never said anything worth anything).
• Making carne seca (beef jerky)...a little bit of salt, a little bit of pepper.

Remembering these times with Grumpy makes me smile and warms my insides.  Here's a little prayer up to you, Grampito:

We all miss you so much down here.  The family is not the same without you and while we somehow figured out how to on in your absence, there is definitely a big void.  I was lucky enough to grow up with you in my life.  I worry that Nieves' memories of you are brief & fuzzy - I wish she could have known & loved you like Pilar, Sierra & I did.

Gramita is doing ok.  Things are getting harder for her - maintaining the house and land, taking care of the animals, worrying about all of us ... please help her to stay strong and not give up.  Because without her ... I don't know what this family would do.

I think that you would be proud of the people your granddaughters have grown up to be.  Pilar is so bright and talented and with focus, could do so many things.  Sierra is a very smart girl who finds interest in new, surprising things.  She has huge potential now as she graduates from high school - I hope that she sees her potential as we do.  And then there's Nieves, who is probably the most caring, sensitive, loving child I know.  She is the definition of sweetness and I can't wait to see who she grows up to be.

Grumpy, I hope you are proud of me.  I've stumbled sometimes and I have tried my hardest to be a good person.  Please continue to watch over me and guide me to do what is right.

How Young Is Too Young?

We've all seen them - the oh-so-cute baby Nike shoes for kiddos.  Since I have motherly hormones racing through my body, I always coo at how adorable and small they are.  But then I start thinking, "Why put your kid in Nikes if they can't even walk?"

Which leads me to my next question - when should kids start wearing Nikes?  When should they start running?  I saw two sets of running mother/daughter duos this weekend.  It was hard to peg the age of the girls, but I'd say they were somewhere between six and 10.  And I couldn't help but wondering when the appropriate age is for kids to start actually going out with their parents and running.  When are they too young?  Is it detrimental to their development?  Is it dangerous?  If you start them too young, will they get turned off of the sport? 

A few weeks back, I was reading the trail issue of Runner's World (for the life of me, I can't find the article online that I am now going to reference).  In it was an article about a trail race that, because of the handicap system in place (head starts are granted to groups based on age, gender and past victories), an eight-year-old girl and a 68-year-old woman were fighting over the win.  As I read that, I thought...wait, she's eight years old?  The story went on to detail how she went out and trained on the course with her dad, doing hill repeats and figuring out where to surge and where to walk (the scary downhills).  I couldn't help but wonder what kind of crazy, deranged parent would make his daughter do hill repeats?!

Now, I must explain that I started running early.  There is one picture that always makes the rounds of me and my sister in a kid's race - I was probably six or seven.  But at that point, our "training" runs were chasing each other around the backyard and through the house.  We were not doing anything hard-core, that's for sure.  And really, after that, running fell off the radar.  School started, we had dance and other extracurricular activities to take up our time.  I finally got back into it in middle school, when most kids are reintroduced into the sport.  My sister was over it by then.

"It is important to remember that both walking and running are natural (authentic) activities for kids and adults..." writes Jenny Hadfield on the Ask Coach Jenny section of Runner's World.  She says that when kids are young (under five or six), make sure that running is fun and enjoyable.  Do backyard relays or take the kid out in the jogger and then ask them if they want to run the last block home with you.  Not until after six or so should you introduce you child to actual running - going out for the sole purpose of running.  This would also be a good time to try out a fun run with them (get them acquainted with how races work).

"Believe it or not, kids are better at monitoring their fatigue than adults are.  They tend to run fast, but not for too long.  And they rarely run too fast, too long, or push too hard if left on their own," Hadfield continues.  This is a really interesting point that I originally hadn't thought of.  If a kid gets tired, they're going to stop  no matter what.  They don't feel any pressure to continue.  If your child is still interested in running as he or she gets older, Hadfield suggests to start looking for running programs for them (like the Girls on the Run program, which combines practicing for a 5k with self-esteem lessons).

I guess the bottom line is...keep running fun.  If they like it, encourage it but don't be over the top about it (don't want to scare them away from the sport).  Don't be the crazy football dad who pushes his son to be the very best QB1 he can be.  You don't want your child to end up burned out on running.  You want them to see how much you enjoy running and maybe, just maybe, they'll end up coming over to the "dark side."

Don't Hate on Disney

So I'm mandating (that's right, mandating) that today is Tuesday tunes because I didn't post yesterday.

Growing up, we listened to a lot of Disney soundtracks because we were obsessed with Disney movies.  And when I say a lot, I mean we had every main Disney song memorized.  This was a favorite:

Sigh.

How come dates in real life can't be like this?


Since me and my sister are two girls (clearly), we always fought over who got to sing the Jasmine part.  Same thing happened when we would sing songs from my sister's favorite movie, Grease.  I guess we learned  how to trade off...or maybe she bullied me into singing one part or the other.

And then of course, there was this one:

My sister's favorite Disney was Beauty and the Beast.  And how could all little girls not want to be Belle?  She was brunette, gorgeous and loved books.   

Although I remember the lyrics of the songs, what I remember most about these songs is spending time with my little sister.  We'd sit on the old red blanket and pretend we were soaring over Agrabah.  She'd collect Beauty and the Beast toys, while I'd try and get all of the 101 Dalmatians.  We'd march and pretend to fight when "I'll Make a Man Out of You" (from Mulan) came on.  We'd watch the movies over and over again...those are some lines I might be able to recite.  We lived, eat, breathed Disney movies. They were our childhood.

Many people say that Disney movies give children an unrealistic view of the world.  Sure, every girl ended up with the guy, even if she tried her darndest not to fall in love.  And yes, loose strings were tied up and happy endings were a must.  But really, a movie is a movie.  And unless that is all you are exposed to as a child, I do not believe that any harm will come out of watching them.  It is a parent's duty to show you other things and to tell you that not everyone looks like you but that's what real life is about. 

Disney movies are just that...movies.  Enjoy them and sing along with them.  I know I certainly will belt them out any chance I can get.