Seven

Leo turned seven last week. Seven. People always say “the time goes so fast!” And it does, usually. I love this kid and his snarky attitude (I have no idea where he gets that), his joke delivery, sick burns, and big sweet heart. Instead of prattling on about him I thought I would dig up a story I told for the There’s More podcast at USD. The theme I was given was “BANG.” That was the only prompt I had and I had no idea what to talk about. So, I started thinking about the word “bang” and all of its connotations. After eliminating a variety of inappropriate avenues, I settled on the actual sound and what it makes me think of. When you hear a bang it usually goes along with something that’s startling or something blowing up so that’s what I decided to talk about: blowing up my life in ways I never imagined.

Many moons ago I started online dating, went on some dates, and met some interesting characters.* In April 2014, I met a guy for coffee. Full disclosure, I met him at the coffee shop literally across the street from my house in case he turned out to be a creepy murderer. He wasn’t. I honestly didn’t have high expectations-it was just coffee (and according to him it was an “interview” not a date 🤨). Luckily he was nice and funny and smart. We had a lot in common and he thought my being a professor was interesting and not scary (something someone actually to me). We texted after coffee, hiked Torrey Pines, ate pupusas, and after our fourth date I knew I had found my person. I called my Mom and told her she should plan to attend our wedding the next year. She thought I was joking. I wasn’t. After six weeks of dating I invited him to Europe with me while I taught abroad. Two weeks after that he moved in to my condo. We were engaged by December and got married 11 months to the day of meeting for coffee. BANG. 
Then we blew up our lives in a way I never imagined: We decided to have a kid. And you may be thinking. Right, big deal. You had a kid-people have kids all the time. But you need to understand something. I did not like kids. I was NOT GOING TO HAVE KIDS. EVER. Under ANY circumstances. Kids interrupt your naps, they cramp your vacation plans, and they are often sticky. These are not things I like. But my husband Jairo really wanted kids and is patient and kind and a variety of things I am not so I thought: what the heck! We can do this. This will be easy peasy. I was very wrong. Turns out when you are pregnant in your (ahem) later thirties (what the doctors like to call “advanced maternal age”) things can get a little crazy. I had to teach sitting down, my fingers turned into hot dogs, my knuckles and ankles disappeared, and the only shoes that fit were Birkenstocks a size too big. I was not the glowing pregnant woman. I was a walking poster for high blood pressure and the fact that pregnancy is a young woman’s game. At one point I was getting dizzy spells and couldn’t drive so Jairo would take me to work. One afternoon my blood pressure was really high and my doctor wanted me to get checked. I had to call an Uber and the look on the guy’s face when sweaty pregnant woman got in his mini van and said, “To the hospital!” was priceless. I promised him I would not birth a child in his van. I kept that promise. But just a few days later, six weeks before my due date (on the night of my baby shower) and in the middle of a semester my water broke and it was go time. We were not prepared. I had no hospital bag packed (because I still had at least several weeks!) so I threw some stuff together and we headed out so Leonidas could make his (very early) debut in the world. When we got to the hospital they hooked me up to a butt-load of machines and a relentless blood pressure cuff that squeezed my arm with a ferocity I had never experienced before or since. Once we were settled and the Pitocin started drippin’ my husband looked into the bag I packed and realized I had brought my laptop. When he held it up with a “what the hell” look on his face I explained that I thought I would get some grading done while I was in labor. This is a great indication of just how unprepared for what was about to happen I actually was...

Leo was born the next morning and I did not get any grading done. I did however take some time to order a carseat and text my amazing colleague who would need to step into my classes a wee bit earlier than planned. We came very close to an emergency c-section because Leo’s heart rate kept dropping luckily he stabilized and was born weighing in at 4 pounds 11 ounces. A massive team was waiting to take him to the NICU as soon as he was born. It was one of the scariest things I have ever experienced. And so I found myself, type-A, hyper organized planner and list-maker thrust into a situation in which I had absolutely no control.** BANG. My world really did explode. For nine days we took shifts at the NICU while Leo put on weight, and then lost it, got treated for some serious jaundice that made him look like a little yellow highlighter, got a feeding tube, ripped the feeding tube out, had tons of wires attached to him and needed to be in a plastic incubator for the majority of time to stay warm. And then he was fine. One day they just said here you go and sent us home as a party of three with absolutely no instructions. BANG. He will be four next month and we are exceedingly fortunate that he is a totally healthy, happy and smart little kid. Along the way we have weathered a variety of blow ups: literal diaper explosions, teething, walking, growth spurts, talking, starting daycare, night terrors. Super fun stuff! Our lives now blow up in new and different ways on an almost weekly basis and I’m still trying to learn how to appreciate the insanity and unpredictability of it all. I have had to put aside the idea that things need to happen at a certain time or in a certain way because, guess what? I am really not in charge anymore and I never actually was. Life is crazy and messy and fantastic and sometimes it needs to completely blow up in your face to put you on the right track. So I don’t want you to be afraid of those big bangs in your life. Wait for the smoke to clear and look for the new possibilities you have thanks to that explosion. 

That was written three years ago and since then we have survived quarantine, Zoom school, Kindergarten, lost teeth, the death of two pets (in the same summer!), and mean kids. There are still days where I feel like I have no idea what I am doing as a parent and that is ok. What is important (I think) is remembering that he is a complete person unto himself. He has his own interests (dragons, Pokemon, drawing, unicorns, snacks, dancing, building stuff) and it’s my job to support him as he grows into whoever he is going to be. Happy #7 to my one and only, never lonely, macaroni. 🌈

Cartoons + A Kiwi Crate = this face

*If anyone ever needs material on the topic of “you’re not the person from your online picture” I have a lot to work with-hit me up!

**This has probably been my biggest parenting challenge. Control (or thinking I need to be in control) is driven by my anxiety. It’s like a terrible merry-go-round. When I don’t know what comes next I freak out (usually internally and sometimes externally) and there is no way to even guess what comes next with kids. They are bonkers. I once had to tell Leo, “we don’t lick the bottom of our shoes.” No parenting book prepares you for this shit. Over the years I have tried to slowly loosen the reins on my need to control when it comes to Leo. It is a work in progress but so far he’s turning out pretty awesome and I am convinced that has absolutely nothing to do with me.