endurance

On Monday we returned home from an unprecedented trip: Mike and I spent three days and nights in New York City. No kids (excepting the mobs of adorable toddlers going about their days on the streets of Park Slope - but we didn't have to feed or bathe them). We swapped houses with a family who had a wedding in Annapolis, and our kids had a blast at their grandparents' while we did all the things we love to do: eat fantastic meals, walk for miles, talk talk talk, then eat and walk and talk some more, and so on, with occasional interruptions in the pattern (a great movie or museum exhibit).

We hadn't had time together like that for nearly (2 days to go) seven years! But we slipped right back into our city selves, feeling at home at once, surrounded by the Korean grocers, hipster bearded Brooklynite barristas, blank-eyed subway riders, elderly ladies curled over their vertical grocery carts, inching along the sidewalk, fabulous leggy women in impossibly stacked shoes, Cuban musicians singing and playing exquisite guitar on the subway platform. At first we were self-conscious about fitting in. After our years of suburban, comfortable living, were we good enough for the city? But then we realized that everyone is good enough for New York, and that is what makes it extraordinary.


I could tell you more about the trip, but honestly, it was so good in every way that I think it would come across as awful gloating. We were away long enough that we missed the kids (a great feeling) and even made a trip to Grand Central for the express purpose of buying them F and G train shirts. (We've never bought a souvenir before!)

After we'd gotten back Sunday evening, spent the night at Mike's parents' house, and driven back to Annapolis, everything started to unravel. Payback, maybe? Frances was oppressively negative and complaining, as well as terrified of noises, shadows, anything her imagination could come up with; Gabriel was aggressive and physical; and Mike had to prepare for his first seminar of the summer all day. In the late afternoon, the kids and I drove to Baltimore to meet up with some friends (a long overdue, first-time-in-the-flesh meeting) and Frances's complaining reached a fevered, nearly absurd pitch. I was at a loss. Also livid.

But Anna, mother of much bigger girls, possesses a sense of calm and wisdom that helped enormously. She helped me to see that some moments with children are simply to be endured. We tend to think there are certain parenting techniques, philosophies, or books that can offer us tools for every developmental snag and behavioral challenge. Countless times I have turned fretfully to Mike and said, "I don't know what to do!"

But sometimes kids are just tough, and all you can do is wait it out. Life is hard! Growing up is hard! Endurance is key. I think sometimes I would do better to submit to the painfulness of the moment, rather than search for the proper route out of it.

Frances is still having terrible fears, but the negativity is lifting. I gave her a series of consequences yesterday (chores, which work well for her) and that seemed to help. She has been picking pints of raspberries off our bushes (they ripened just in time for our return!) and making elaborate plans for her birthday on Friday.

Today is the summer solstice. Nothing like the longest day to encourage a mama to take the long view.