When Things Aren't Shiny

- June 09, 2023

We tend to take pictures of happy moments or pretty things. When I looked through my photos to pick a picture that was going to match the tone of this post I couldn't find anything. I couldn't find anything that even matched the tone of this month. None of these pictures of Aria smiling or of the fun things we've done tell the whole picture. It has been a difficult year, for us and our whole (extended) family. Posting shiny pictures of us laughing and having a good time just doesn't feel right.

So while I share these recent memories, I hope you can live vicariously through some of the truly shiny ones (like our recent visit to the park) and maybe feel validated by the commiserate difficulty that comes with some that were not so shiny. Even when I am not with you, or calling or texting you, I am there with you and thinking of you all the time. You would probably be surprised by how often you cross my mind.

This is a picture of Aria at a Mariner's game with Sophie. The picture doesn't capture the deafening sound of the speakers blasting announcements and music. It doesn't show the 45 minutes Jeff spent driving in circles trying to find a parking spot that wasn't literally so far away that it was in West Seattle, or the sweaty 25-minute walk back to the car in 80-degree heat while carrying Aria who got so heavy it felt like my arms had turned to sand.

I felt defeated that I had not been able to connect with my friends because it was too loud and chaotic. I felt sad that my memory of going to a baseball game as a kid was so different from this experience. I often wrestle with this internal grief that Aria's childhood is so vastly different from my own and that was coming up for me too. It is difficult for me to process what growing up is like for her as an only child because it is so different from how I grew up.

Jeff reminds me that not everyone has the same childhood. He reminds me that Aria's experience is unique and different to mine and that it is normal and it is okay.

Parenting is difficult. I am trying to navigate it like a captain at sea with no steering wheel. Sometimes the sea is calm and peaceful and wonderful. And sometimes giant storms engulf the ship and I'm just trying to hang on for dear life and get us all through with minimal damage. But ultimately there is no steering wheel so also coming to terms with being thrown around the deck a bit.

Sometimes I can laugh about it. Like Aria's first day of preschool. She had found a pinecone the day before and was obsessed with it. So when I asked her what she wanted to bring to her first day of school as a comfort item she said "the pinecone!" and I said, "Okay, sounds good!" So I sent her off to her first day of preschool with a freaking pinecone. The other kids all had their loveys and stuffed animals. But no not Aria. She had her pinecone.

And sometimes I cry about it. Today was field day at school. It was pouring rain when we got up, so I put Aria in sweats and a coat, and rain boots. By the time we got to school, the rain has all but completely stopped. All the other kids had shorts and tennis shoes on. I dropped her off then raced home and grabbed some tennis shoes and took them up to the office. I told the secretary she needed them right away and she looked at me like I was a complete lunatic. And I felt like a complete lunatic. So I left and cried for 30 minutes about it. I thought I had ruined her field day. Other parents in the class were texting me telling me she still had the boots on and hadn't changed. Hopefully they had fun and this will be something I can laugh about like pinecone day.