Tag: family

A Story of Resilience, Love and Thriving

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“One day you will tell your story of how you overcame what you went through and it will be someone else’s survival guide.” -Brene Brown

One of the things that Vicki Atkinson and I hear from podcast guests is that we are warm and welcoming. A lovely thing to hear. But I’d flip that around and say that what makes it work is that our guests are open and courageous.

We met author, public speaker, and parental advocate Vickie Rubin through our mutual blog friend, Ab. I love that because they both have such genuineness. We get to see in action how they show up for life. Whether at home or in their roles as advocates, they come alongside others to see them and share stories that make everything a little clearer and brighter.

So in the latest episode (and last episode of 2024) of the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, Vickie gives us the elevator pitch for her book, Raising Jess. She jokes that it’s long enough to require an elevator in the tallest building in Manhattan. Fitting, because there is so much goodness in her book about raising her child with a chromosome deletion: mother’s intuition, decisions about whether to have more children, the grandparent’s point of view, and more.

Vickie’s openness and support of others are so inspiring. In her work supporting other families trying to navigate the systems to get resources for their children and in Facebook communities, Vickie is a powerful parental resource and advocate. By telling her story, she continues to help others navigate their own challenges.

Vicki and I ask about what’s next for Vickie. She’s recently published an article in Newsweek and she tells us about the writing classes she taking.

This is a great episode that not only focuses on the resilience, love, and thriving of one family but also inspires the same in everyone who listens. When we share our stories, we empower others and Vickie illustrates this so well.

I’m confident you’ll love the scenic and beautiful places we explore as we share the power of storytelling – in our books, our podcasts, and our lives.

We know you’ll love it!

On a programming note – this is the last podcast for 2024. Our next episode featuring the amazing Beth (i didn’t have my glasses on… blog) will drop on Jan 10th, 2025.

Search (and subscribe!) for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts OR Listen to it from your computer on Anchor: Episode 97: Raising Jess with Vickie Rubin

Episode 97 transcript

AND subscribe to our YouTube channel to see a video clip of each story: @SharingtheHeartoftheMatter.

Links for this Episode:

Vickie Rubin | Author & Advocate | Special Needs Parenting
Thankful for Superhero Healthcare Folks: Bones, Scopes & Hopes
Newsweek Article: Mom’s Diagnosis Was Crushing Enough, Then She Gave Me an Ominous Warning

From the hosts:

Vicki’s book about resilience and love: Surviving Sue; Blog: https://victoriaponders.com/

My book about my beloved father: Finding My Father’s Faith

(featured photo from Pexels, quote from Finding My Way to Forgiveness by Vicki Atkinson)

Certainty for Today

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“May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.” – Nelson Mandela

My internet browser keeps trying to bait me to find out who I’m voting for 2024 election. It presents headlines from one side or another to see what I’ll click on.

From my point of view, I don’t want to click because I don’t want it to feed me what I want to hear. It’s not that I’m uninterested or uninformed. In these days before this hotly contested election, I’d love to have some certainty. But not at the price of wrong information and expectations that will lead to disappointment.

So instead I’ve made my list of the things I’m fairly certain will happen today:

The sun will rise and set.
That I’ll feel moments of awe, angst, and amusement.

Cooper the dog will put something in his mouth that he’s not supposed to.

And I’ll eat a little or a lot of Halloween candy.

Miss O and Mr. D will make me laugh
and some toys will be played with.

I will not make it through my to-do list.
But I will accomplish enough of my must-love list.

We’ll learn something, spill something, and read something.
One kid, or both, will anger the other and apologies will have to be made.

That amidst the rush and hustle of daily life with a nine-year-old and a five-year-old,
I’ll feel the overwhelming gratitude and love that I was able to choose to have this family
Using IVF.

And that’s why I never needed to open my browser to figure out which way to vote. I voted for Kamala Harris so that other families can choose, if they need to, to have days filled with the same types of certainties I’m likely to have today.

Loving and Learning

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“Life isn’t about getting and having, it’s about giving and being.” – Kevin Kruse

I was chatting with another parent at a party the other night. Let’s call her Casey, because, well, that’s her name. Casey was telling me about spending the night prior sleeping on the floor next to their new puppy’s crate. Since I was fresh off of sleeping on the couch for my puppy when he was getting adjusted, I was nodding along.

Then Casey said that a friend of hers told her she had made a mistake by getting a puppy. The opinion was logical: she laid out all the plans Casey had said she wanted to do like rebuilding her acupuncture practice in a new location and thought the puppy was not conducive to Casey’s goals.

Hmm, is love ever directly conducive to our goals?

Perhaps when it is the goal itself but from my experience, love is the big disruptor that often interrupts our progress on the things we can measure.

I’m thinking of this past weekend when my four-year-old son wanted to sit on my lap as I was writing a post so I switched to typing one-handed.

Or the time 20 years ago when I screwed up a work presentation because my new love wanted to spend time and so I forgot to practice.

And the swollen eyes I had for weeks after I had to say goodbye to my last dog, making it nearly impossible to concentrate or pull myself together.

And yet:

My four-year-old, Mr. D, has been bounding out of bed in the morning to say “hi” to the puppy. I find him with his arm around the dog or the cat as he tries to broker peace for his new best friend. And having a puppy has also made him more organized to keep track of his Bun Bun stuffy so that it stays out of the dog’s sharp teeth.

My eight-year-old daughter, Miss O, has a new way to make friends. We stood outside the school gate this afternoon letting kid after kid pet the puppy while she proudly showed them how she’s trained him to sit. And the puppy is also making her grow up because she’s having to find her inner discipline in order to deliver clear commands to him.

I feel the rumbling at my feet of puppy snores as I type this and feel less alone. I’m also feeling the exhaustion that comes with the extra discernment, communication, and enthusiasm I’m expending to train my kids to train the puppy.

We’re loving and learning. I’m not sure there is anything more conducive to my parenting goals than that. I’ve lost sleep for far less worthy reasons!

What do you think is worth losing sleep for?

Staying in My Own Lane

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“Always be a first rate version of yourself and not a second rate version of someone else.” – Judy Garland

My brother and I like to talk about Wordle strategies. It seems to be our easy, go-to conversation. To be fair, my brother has all the strategies and I’m just a decent guesser.

His goal is to have more successes getting the word in three guesses than in four. I hadn’t thought of that particular challenge. So when I changed computers a while back, I had to relog in to the NY Times and it started my stats all over again. I thought this was a great chance to give his approach a try.

For a while my 3’s and 4’s were neck in neck. But then I realized, taking the time to be strategic about getting it in three was irritating me. I’d rather go faster and get it in four.

Taking the time to play Wordle is pleasureful, but taking time to think through all the possible combinations to land on the most likely was just unrealistic.

I was chagrined to realize that life had just given me another opportunity to learn to stay in my own lane. The only way I’ve figured out how to be happy playing the game of life is to find my own goals – not try to live up to others.

(featured photo from Pexels)

But I Love Them Wholeheartedly

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“Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged of man.” – Rabindranath Tagore

Kids! They bicker with each other
and leave their shoes around.
Tears flow too easily
usually because they’re low on fuel.

It takes so much work
To make a family work
Keeping their hearts and minds engaged
And bodies well.

But I love them wholeheartedly
And not just when they are sleeping
Curled up with an arm akimbo
And sideways on the bed.

Because there’s a fierceness
Of love and loyalty
When we know we belong together
And commit to making repair

The laughter and dance parties
Curiosity and attentiveness
Is so damn inspiring
That one cannot help but grow

I’m so profoundly proud
Of the effort my kids put in to every day
Really of all of us
Forging a path through all the busy-ness
To the heart of the way

Family has a myriad of definitions
Depending on our point of view
But I’ll keep mine – work and everything
Because there is so much love to do!

Inculcating Sustainability

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“We have not inherited the earth from our parents; we have borrowed it from our children.” – Wendell Berry

A while ago we were driving and saw litter by the side of the freeway. Mr. D said, “It’s not healthy for the moon to eat.” It started a rousing discussion of not only what planet we live on but also Earth sustainability.

A lot of the climate change messaging these days doesn’t seem to resonate with kids. First, it’s rife with fear and disgust – like humans strangling the planet because they are short-sighted and selfish. I’m not sure that resonates with grown-ups but I know for certain kids can’t grok the cynicism.

Second, they have a sense that grown-ups don’t know what to do about it so it feels too big for kids to take on.

Third, they are just developing their altruism muscles so giving up things when other people are not lands as unfair.

Fortunately, Seattle has a great recycling and composting program. In the winter, we’ve spent a lot of time at the dump (the transfer station) watching how it works and playing with the educational models (see pictures here). Inculcating some sustainability habits to go hand-in-hand, seemed to me like a good next step.

After trial and error, some climate change for kids books, and thinking, here are some of the things I’ve come up with to teach my kids:

One in, one out: We participate in hand-me down chains for toys, books, and clothes. We try to give away at least one thing for everything we get. I can’t claim we do this every time – but we try.

Involve them: I reuse a lot of containers – like hand soap. They love participating in refilling our containers.

Full life cycle: We grow strawberries, try to grow peas and pumpkins, visit pumpkin farms, and give away our plum crop to people who are food insecure. Even though we live in a city and are disconnected from where our food comes from, I try to connect them to the bounty of the Earth when possible.

Teach them skills: Things break and need maintenance and there are a lot of skills to repair and reuse things instead of just discarding them. I’m not much of a seamstress but I do know my way around drills, saws, caulk, and glue. Seeing that we can not only fix things but also make them better.

Selling our stuff and buying second hand: We have a great second hand kids shop in our neighborhood that makes it possible to sell what we don’t give away – and buy at the same store.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to oversell what we are doing. They are small efforts and I’m far from consistent and perfect on these things. But these things are doable and sustainable for us. They counterbalance the messages of judgment and fear that leave us feeling helpless. If nothing else, it convinces my kids that they can do something to help. And believing that might just make a difference.

Being Difficult

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“There will never be an “us” if I play small.” – Sharon Preiss

Last Monday when Miss O, Mr. D, and I were getting ready for bike camp, nine-year-old Miss O was dragging her feet. She had a ton of “problems” that were blocking her: she couldn’t find shoes, Cooper the dog was in her way, her helmet was missing one unicorn ear, she didn’t remember the route we usually use to go down to the lake, yadda, yadda, yadda.

I turned to her and said, “You are being difficult.”

She replied, “I am.” And then added, “I wish I could tell you when you are being difficult too.”

To which I replied, “Please do. But I’d especially love to know when I’m being difficult when others are trying to be helpful and supportive or if it’s when you all are dragging your feet.”

I’ve been troubled by this conversation ever since. In fact, I’m finding it hard to write about. Here’s my best guess at why.

I think I’m starting to experience the generational BS that women in my family pass down. And it’s so ingrained and insidious, I’m not even doing it intentionally.

“You are being difficult.” It’s like code for saying that I expect her to fall in line and be agreeable. To be flexible and accommodating like a young woman.

To be fair, she was being difficult. It’s just that the word hits a note of a gender stereotype that I’ve tried to avoid my whole life. I had no intention of passing it on. Then it slipped out of my mouth.

I’m naturally pretty agreeable. But inheriting the expectations of how a woman should behave has kept me from speaking up when I needed to – both in pursuing my own interests and also when something is wrong. And it kept me playing small. Trying not to stand up or stand out has kept me quiet about what I know or am capable of doing. It’s made me intentionally dim my light so I’m not too much.

It’s taken me decades in leadership positions to figure out that I can be genial AND forthright. And when needed, it’s acceptable to be hard-headedly, certainly, yet kindly, difficult.

So, I’m officially okay with Miss O being difficult. While I prefer she not do it when we are heading out the door, it’s fine if she does that too. Because sometimes that is when we learn to flip the script.

(featured photo from Pexels)

The horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad day

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“Things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing. We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.” – Pema Chӧdrӧn

On this past Saturday, we had a horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad day.*

Cooper the dog, had some potty accidents that we discovered. A couple that I found and cleaned up first thing in the morning, and a couple that Miss O unceremoniously stumbled upon. Ewww. Apparently, Cooper had GI issues after his surgery to remove the grass from his ear on Thursday.

We found some bugs in our pancake mix.

Then nine-year-old Miss O saw that the vines in Rusty, the crested gecko’s enclosure had fallen down. On closer inspection, we’d been misting too much and the whole enclosure was a swamp. So, instead of our to-do list chores, we spent all morning rehabilitating Rusty’s setup.

[Side note: We called my niece to get some advice. She’s the one who gave us Rusty. Miss O told her that we’d gotten Rusty out of the enclosure by saying, “We executed Rusty.” We quickly clarified that we’d evacuated, not executed, Rusty.]

At a kid’s birthday party, five-year-old Mr. D got hit in the head by a water balloon thrown by an 11-year-old boy who had been spitting in the ballons before hurling them.

Our tap water turned brown.

It was literally one thing after another. Some things caused by us, like Rusty’s enclosure. Some things that were random like the water turning brown. Some things caused by other humans like the water balloon.

There is probably nothing that peeves me more than life messing with my efficiency. I was not in a great mood, but I’ve learned from experience that rough days call for leadership, even when I don’t feel like it.

At one point in the day, Miss O exasperatedly said, “This is awful. I don’t know what to do!”

So, we talked about my dad’s approach to just find the next right thing to do. And we took comfort that what we did have to respond to “life” with was each other. We were doing pretty good job of sticking together.

Then as the kids were getting ready for bed, a huge lightning storm came in. Seattle very rarely gets thunderstorms so this was a rare and incredible show. After they brushed their teeth, we snuggled in my bed with all the curtains open and watched the storm.

It was fitting. On a day that seemed extra “life-y,” to let the storm and rain exhaust itself and pass on through. In that way, we weathered the storm.

(featured photo from Pexels)

*Title is a riff on the children’s book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judy Viorst

It’ll Be Alright In the End

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“Everything will be alright in the end, and if it is not alright, it is not the end.” – The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

Months ago, when I signed Mr. D up for his very first summer camp (rock climbing, in case it matters), I assumed that it would start at the same time as Miss O’s. For his age group 3-5, the camp ends at noon. Miss O’s older group goes until 3pm. But certainly they’d start all the groups at 9am, right?

When I took a closer look before the camp started this week, I discovered Mr. D’s doesn’t start until 9:30am. When I realized that detail, I started inwardly groaning about the inconvenience.

But just briefly. Because in the last dozen years, I adopted a shift that has made an immense difference to my happiness. I started assuming that “it” is for the best. That whatever is irritating me is just an opportunity opening that I can’t yet see. Or that I may never totally understand because it’s above my pay grade.

This has a Biblical basis (Romans 8:28), and a Buddhist basis, but I don’t think it requires a particular spiritual tradition. It’s just an act of staying open to the possibility that there’s a perspective that I can’t yet see.

For anyone that is thinking this sounds Pollyana-ish, I get it. But this change came from the darkest days of my life when I was stuck in all the feelings of failure after my divorce and clueless about what I was going to do next.

So many things came from that vulnerable time in the dark: my meditation practice and faith, the conversations with my father, my two beautiful children, my writing. And also this idea that I should stop doubling-down on irritation and instead stay present for whatever is unfolding.

It’s easier to do this for things like camp drop-offs. In this case, the payoff came almost instantly. Of course, it was beneficial to have Mr. D’s camp start a half hour later. He got to see his sister get dropped off, and then have some time warming up on his own.

 It gets harder when the kids are sick and I have to cancel my hair appointment. Or the babysitter cancels and I can’t go out with my friends.

So, I practice with the small irritations – believing that it’ll be alright in the end. And if it’s not alright, it’s not the end.

Riding the Rhythm Into the Comfort Zone

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“Each one must learn the highest wisdom. It cannot be taught in words.” – Smowhala Wanapum

We’ve just returned from two week vacation on the beach. It was an incredible privilege to be able to take that time. It was born of a feeling that Mr. D needed a break between his 52-weeks-a-year preschool and starting Kindergarten. But it turned out to be something we all needed.

We had lots of friends join us. My friend, Eric, was with us a good deal of the two weeks. Also, my oldest friend, Katie, my meditation teacher, Deirdre, my mom, and one of Miss O’s friends came with her mom for part of the time.

But we also spent a number of days just the three of us. For anyone not in this phase of life with young children, it’s a tricky thing to present children with a whole lot of unstructured time. Ah, who am I kidding? It seems to be problematic for most every age.

For us, it started out with some rough moments. Mr. D lost it a few days in a row. The things that set it off were so innocuous. Like the time he didn’t want Miss O and her friend to go out in the dinghy after dinner even though he was invited and included. It had to be something else bugging him.

And then we found the rhythm. Activity, break, activity, food, activity, break, food, activity, bed. For example, wake up, walk on the beach, and then take a break; go swimming and then break for lunch; then pickleball; take a break; dinner and paddleboarding, then have some downtime watching shows and go to bed.

Here’s the lesson I derived for myself – when life feels new or unsettling, find the rhythm. Often the rhythm gets us through even when we are outside of our comfort zone.

It’s like every new hike or mountain I’ve undertaken. I feel the anxiety of not knowing where I’m going. And then I shoulder my pack and start walking. Soon enough, I will find or experience the answers. I just need to rely on the rhythm of my pace until I get there.