Solutions for Y-ners

As a follow-up on my various posts regarding quarter-life crisis issues, here I pose a solution; something that seems to be helping me.

Mine was a classic case of the Y-generation-incited indecisiveness: I just didn´t know what I wanted, what would be best... mainly, I didn´t know where was best. It was all very messy in my mind, which made every other aspect of my life all the messier, and I got rather tired of it. So, on a random day (after my trip to Holland), Daniel and I said, "ENOUGH of this! We are staying where we are, and we´ll make things work here." Why? We were sick & tired of pros and cons, and of irrelevant pros and cons (ya sabes, the kind that you come up with just to promote the place you are more inclined to go for).... of basing decisions on whims, and then changing those decisions, and on thinking out loud without conviction.

No, I will not say that Spain won. In the end, it became less about a competition between countries, and more about simplification. Our life has been stressful enough, lately. NOT bad, no, but stressful. So, we´ve gotten rid of the proverbial clutter. And, isn´t it always so refreshing to get rid of the clutter?? Not an easy thing to do, because we Y-ners are hoarders, hoarders of ideals & options..... but so like a fresh breeze. A spring-cleaning, literally & figuratively.

We chose the easier way: the option with fewest adjustments. We´ll stay where we are, sort of (only moving to another town..). Fewer changes. Good for now. This is not to say that we are settling. Goodness, no. I have come to hate the word. But it is so calming to just "conformarse", to come to terms with a decision, and to store some of the other ideas for later.

Things started to fall into place very quickly once the decision was made. We have found a new home, in our old neighborhood. We´ve found a little pre-school for Ari.... early, huh? So odd. I have a job- interview lined up. But, more importantly, we´re not so overwhelmed. A bit, yes, because it is still going to be a year of huge adjustments. But most of the uncertainty has been eliminated.

Now to my crying children.... they´re tired of their naps.

Cows in a China-Shop

(Anika & I couldn´t possibly be Bulls)

Last Thursday, Daniel took me on a fabulous date. He had it all planned out, in honor of my birthday, and I knew nothing of what was to come.

I dropped Ari off with her grandparents, and headed to Madrid with Anika. Daniel met us at a downtown metro-station & took us to the Museo del Romanticismo. This was my kind of place: I love everything related to the 1700s & 1800s, and felt right at home in the color-themed rooms...
(the sage room was my personal favorite: with a spectacular sofa to match). Again, I dreamed of standing in one of the corners of a Victorian ballroom (by the grand piano, perhaps....though not to play it, of course!), dressed in an empire-waist gown with a soft-green sash... Surely, I was born in the wrong decade of the wrong century. (I must find my way onto a period-piece filmset!)
This was Anika´s first museum, and she seemed perfectly content for a good while. Daniel and I pointed out all the furniture-pieces we would claim if we had the chance: a fold-out mahogany desk, of course... two or three sofas, and a perfect little cradle. And then there were the little things: the elegant coin-purses & ink-pots & jewelry.... a dream of a doll-house for the girls.

After the trip to the museum, we had several hours to kill, so we strolled in the park by the palace. Talked about appartments, jobs, plans... ate a piece of licorice-fudge. Tried (in vain) to take a picture or two of ourselves in front of the palace.

A little before nine, Daniel said it was time to head to our restaurant. I found out I was terribly underdressed. We were in the Royal Theater. Daniel had gotten reservations at its splendid restaurant! Silly-ly, I could think of nothing to say, except, "I can´t believe I am wearing these pants.... I look like a vagabond. Look at all those people in their silk skirts!"
After a while, I decided to stop complaining. The place is gorgeous: it was like stepping into the museum once again, only this time we were allowed to tread on the carpet & sit on the sofas.
I wanted to take photos, but we figured it would be tacky. So, instead, we sat at our dinner-table & tended to Anika.
Daniel had called in advance to make sure that strollers and babies were welcome there. They were, but it was not ideal. On the contrary. After sleeping for several hours, Anika awoke upon arriving, and was hungry. Not surprisingly, she started to cry right when I was in the bathroom, so Daniel sat there with her, trying to console her.
When Daniel burped her, I noticed a giant stain on her burberry-style dress. GIANT. It reached her shoulders. Awesome! Murphy´s Law.
We had not ordered our food yet, and I had to go deal with this mess. The bathrooms of the opera-house / theater are NOT equipped for infants. Not in the least. Also, this poo-mishap happened right during the intermission: so, dozens of fancy opera-visitors flooded the bathroom & gave me mean glances... mean, because they wondered how it could possess a mother to take her infant to the opera. (I know this, because I would wonder the same thing!)
I was embarrassed. I waited until the last one left the bathroom & placed Anika on her changing-mat in a small space between two of the sinks ( to the soundtrack of LOUD opera-music). Anika smiled while I tried to wash her yellow back. The burberry-style dress was replaced by some sweatpants and a Helo Kitty shirt.
She was clean & comfortable & stink-free :-)
After some fussing, Anika fell asleep in her stroller, and Daniel and I had an extraordinary dinner, complete with caviar & crab & lamb... I took several sips of D´s white wine & got all sleepy. I am not a drinker by any means & those few mililiters of good wine went straight to my head. The waiters were friendly and attentive, not seeming to mind the presence of our baby one bit. Despite our awkwardness in the etiquette-department, it was lovely. Anika slept & we dined in style, underneath the stars.

Then, we made the long journey home, on metro and bus. Half-asleep.

(thank you, Daniel, for all the fanciness.. I won´t forget it)

Generational Issues

While I was in Holland several weeks ago, I read about a phenomenon that is very much on my mind these days. This generation, we twenty(and thirty)-somethings, have a decision-making problem. This is so severe, in fact, that most of us end up going through a so-called quarter-life crisis. (the Dutch book calls it the "30ers dilemma," dilemma of 30-ers)

My brother & sister-in-law were discussing this with me, and they have two books on the subject, so I read through those. Almost every paragraph resonated with me. It was like reading my own thoughts.... No, it was better than that. Everything that has been stressing me out and confusing me was there, on paper, with an explanation. It´s a bit simplistic to think that one book could explain every aspect of my little life-crisis, but that is what it felt like.

Why so flaky? Why so indecisive? Why so unsatisfied? Why so wishy-washy?

Apparently, it comes down to one thing. OPTIONS. I thought it was just my multicultural background... you know, being an MK, and all that. I thought that was the reason for my uncertainties. But it can all be traced to the fact that we young-uns have a really hard time dealing with the plethora of options before us.

Fifty years ago, life was a lot simpler. Not necessarily better, no, but definitely simpler. One would wake up in the morning, pick out one of maybe 5 possible outfits, choose either cornflakes or toast for breakfast, and head to work... WORK was not such a huge question: it was either work in the homestead, a teaching-job at the local high school, a cafeteria. Things were pretty predictable. In the following decades, things started to change drastically.
From the small decisions to the big ones: everything got a whole lot more complicated. And it all started in the grocery-store. Cereal? Which one of three-hundred varieties?? Milk? Skim, fresh, low-fat, extra calcium, whole, soy?? And quantities (gallon, liter, etc..), packaging (plastic, glass, cardboard), price.
Options became the magic word: every aspect of our life would revolve around it. From our clothing, to our food, to our relationships, to our careers, studies, hobbies, transportation, housing......

It´s too much for us. Psychologists / sociologists have conducted experiments and found that, ironically, people do not thrive where there are too many options. Life did improve for a little while: when the amount of options went from 0 to 20. But then, when it surpassed the 100s, it all got a little messy. We stopped knowing what to choose, and decided not to choose anything at all. Instead, we just stand still, surveying a world of opportunities and wondering where we belong in it.

One of the examples in the book was something like this: a hungry donkey sees two piles of hay. The piles are both equally appealling, and the donkey doesn´t know which to choose. So, rather than settling for one of the piles, the donkey starves herself to death. Dramatic? Yeah, but I totally got the point.

Another example: two groups of jelly-shoppers were presented with a certain amount of jelly-jars. The first group had 6 jars to choose from. The other group had 16 jars. Significantly more jars were sold in the first group. Clearly, we do not do so well with options.

We don´t know what we want. It´s exactly like the author of one of the books said: we want both the farm-house and the loft in the big city. We think, at least for a while, that we can have it all: the succesful career and the perfect little family, the big income and time to travel around the world, the nice car and no car at all /or an ecological alternative.
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This is why I have such a hard time figuring out to do with my life. This is why I change my mind almost every time I make a decision. How can I make one decision and stick with it, knowing that there are a hundred other options out there... options that might be better.

But, another thing the Dutch book brought up: perhaps the next generation will learn to deal with this. Maybe my kids will know exactly how to take advantage of all the options they have. Maybe having options won´t make them indecisive & unsatisfied.

P.a.v.o.r N*octurnus

Ari had her first panic attack (in her sleep) half an hour ago. It disturbed me greatly, but I did some research and have come to understand that it is very common to children of her age.

Around midnight, I was watching the latest LOST-episodes with my friend (a valid reason to be up that late!) when I heard Ari fussing through the babyphone. I went upstairs and picked her up, offered her water, and turned on the dim light to try to see if something was the matter with her. Ari behaved so strangely: she turned her head, kicked her legs, pushed my face away, kept saying, "mamama," but she didn´t respond to me. I did the usual thing: I held her, sang to her softly, told her "mama´s here," "mama is bij jou," but she kept crying.. She didn´t say anything, but uttered "nnnnunnnunnnu," "uuuuhmm". Her eyes were wide open. It alarmed me. I wanted her to snap out of that- didn´t know what her matter was.
After a long while, she settled down. She asked me to read her the Pooh-book and had a drink of water. I asked her if she was tired and she responded in the affirmative (something that NEVER happens!).

I went back downstairs after the usual routine: "mama is turn off de yight," "vinderziek" (vlindermuziek/butterfly-music) and "mama is cose de doors".

Naturally, I headed straight for the computer. Wanted to find out how "normal" this was. Figured it must have just been a nightmare, but still, it was strange.

As it turns out, this fits the description of "pa(v)or nocturnus" perfectly. It is very common for young children to experience night-terrors: these panic attacks usually only last for about 15 minutes (Ari´s case, too, though it seemed an eternity!), and are very alarming to the parent. This happens at some point in the first 4 hours of the child´s sleep (again, Ari´s case), as opposed to nightmares, which typically occur in the second half of the night. Obviously, this has everything to do with sleep-cycles.

Other markers:
-during a night-terror, the child appears to be awake, but is actually asleep (so they do not respond or communicate).
-the child will not remember the drama by the time they wake up in the morning (whereas children do frequently recall nightmares).
-it is NOT effective to try to comfort the child: such an approach will be met with more kicking, pushing.... (again, because the child is asleep) Hence, the child may continue calling out, "mama, mama!", because (s)he is not aware that the parent is actually there, comforting her(him).
-the best thing for the parent to do (albeit difficult/heartbreaking) is to let this go on; to let the child get over it (as long as they´re not hurting themselves with the kicking, etc., of course.) Waking the child is not advisable in this situation.

This immediately made sense to me, because I noticed that Ari got more agitated as I tried to comfort her.

And, when I read the list of things that can induce these attacks, I was convinced that Ari´s drama was a classic case of Pavor Noctornus. Children are most likely to have an episode of this after a busy day; when they are overstimulated; when they haven´t rested enough; when their routine has been interrupted. Indeed, the dear did not nap today, and we didn´t come home until about half an hour before her bedtime. This was not a normal day for us, and Ari suffered the consequences. (thankfully, she´ll probably greet me with the usual chipper, "mogguh"(morgen/morning!), "Ari is wakker" (Ari´s awake) tomorrow).

So, it was reassuring to learn that this is perfectly normal for toddlers.... Also, I am even more convinced of the value of rest & routine. My parents often use that good old Dutch calvinist motto, "rust, reinheid, en regelmaat" ("rest, cleanliness, and routine/structure"). This is something I aim for in my daily life with the kids (yet fail so frequently!).

Hopefully, it won´t take another night-terror to remind me that my dears need these things!

Recycling

I was pondering "dreams" and life-goals again (you´ve got to do something with your time, right?), and wondered whether, in the end, our dreams are all essentially the same.
Made up of the same stuff.

I started to think of a little something called "the collective unconscious". My university advisor (and English professor) was a bit of a Jung-freak and managed to incorporate Jungian psychology into all of his lectures on Shakespeare, Spenser, and Milton. These were my favorite classes, due in part to this, I think. My professor explored connections between the texts and analytical psychology (some very obscure). I´ve long since forgotten some of those connections, the clues in the literature that pointed to traces of Jungian psychology. But they were fascinating, because they made sense out of it all, and they made the literature resonate with me.

Jung´s concept of the collective unconscious states, basically, that a large part of our thoughts and experiences are universal. In other words, our thoughts, dreams, feelings, and experiences are inextricably linked to those of other humans....regardless of our situation & geography & age. Most of our ideals, then, are timeless. I could be dreaming of the same thing as a woman in the Middle Ages, or a child in Africa. Our environment & personal experience only affect the details, not the essence.

Anyway, this is precisely why my aspirations have been shaped, in large part, by others (more directly, by the expression of others, or art). The images that come to my mind when I consider my dreams & goals are images reflected in movies, novels, or song-lyrics. And vice versa.
"There is nothing new under the sun". Remember? That is exactly what Jung was talking about.

I thought I´d give you a recap of some of my recurrent life-dreams, to illustrate the point more clearly:
*I envision a cozy bookstore with wooden beams across the ceiling and myself in the middle of it, serving coffee to the fascinating readers....... (the "You´ve Got Mail"-idea)
*I see myself, briefcase in hand, doing literature research in the stuffy basement of an old university.. or sitting in an office (with a huge wood-framed window) in the English department, contributing to journals for literary criticism. With a bunch of other enthusiastic academics (academic enthusiasts?) around, of course... (think "Possession", the film with Gwyneth Paltrow)
*I imagine having no "job" at all (basically what I´m doing now, but in a more romantic setting): just raising my daughters (and 2 or 3 more kids :-) why stop at 2 in an ideal world?), frolicking in the green hills, racing to the lighthouse, baking cookies in our industrial oven in a massive kitchen with an ocean-view. (à la "Anne of Green Gables,"maybe).

That is the best I can think of. And, honestly, don´t you think of similar things? I don´t know how many of my friends have shared a similar coffee/tea/book-store idea. Obviously, we´ve customized these collective ideas, but they originated in the same place.

I guess I´ll talk for myself, but I do think Jung had a point. My thoughts are nothing but a patchwork of the best feel-good movies and novels. With a few slight adaptations. Little House on the Prairie meets Dead Poets Society. Something like that. Usually, this frustrates me. It bothers me to be so unoriginal. To have such Blah-aspirations. But then I remember that what seems unoriginal and abstract (the common denominator in my dreams: I might describe it as a sense of "coziness" or something fluffy like that :-) ) is just a reflection of a greater/universal/collective dream. I am not saying that Napoleon ( to name someone ) shared my dream of serving coffee and conversing with a bunch of fellow idealists. But there is a reason why Hollywood feeds us the same formula (for romance, for action, for adventure) in all its productions. Books do the same. And songs.

Sometimes, I just think in song-lyrics. Whatever I might be experiencing, all that comes to my mind to express it is something written/expressed by someone else. While writing this, for instance, I sing, "But you can´t be in love like the movies..... ´cos in the movies, they´re not in love at all!" (from a song by the Avett Brothers, one of the local bands from our life in NC) It seems so pathetic, but, on the other hand, it´s just human. It´s a manifestation of the collective unconscious. It makes art work. It makes Hollywood a lot of money. It´s a form of recycling.

Good grief! I dwell on the same two or three things... it´s all kids and marriage and dreams in my world. Any suggestions for a change of topic??

I´ve added some Ari-quotations to that earlier post (before I forget them).

Upon Considering Haves and Have-Nots

This morning, I thought I would go ahead and whine some more. More venting, to work it all out in my mind. But I´ve decided to try to look at the brighter side. Sleep-deprivation, as Daniel and I discussed over the phone early this morning (when he was off to work after another stress-induced argument), can really distort things. Recently, in moments of stress or frustration, we´ve both said things like, "that´s it! one more day of this chaos, and I´m going to lose it!".
Then, when morning comes around, everything seems a lot more bearable. It happens again and again..... simply because fatigue & stress are so invasive; they have such power to dampen one´s spirits.

Anyhow, I thought of stress, I thought of everything that is making this month such a hard one. And then God (or a more sensible version of myself, I suppose) reminded me that I am so exceptionally blessed to be in this place.

It´s surprisingly easy to lose perspective (for me, anyway), despite daily confrontation with the suffering of others around the globe (ahem *Haiti).
I am surrounded by Have-Nots. By Have-Nothings and Have-Littles. I don´t have to leave the city to run into people who lack a roof above their heads, who have no resources whatsoever, no food to feed their children. The Have-Nothings are everywhere. And then there are Have-Less.... people who do have the basics to make it from day to day but haven´t lived the life they would have chosen for themselves. I could go on and on. There are a lot of people, within a wide range in the Have-Less category, who have a real right to complain.
I am one of the Haves. NO! I am one of the Have-Much´s.

An expression of gratitude is in order: (again, I repeat things ad nauseam)
- I grew up in a great family
- I have an education (and not a cent of debt, thanks to others)
- I have health
- I have friends (I might complain that "I have no friends, no social life", but I´m not really a loner, in the end)
- I have a best friend for a husband (just as I wanted)
- I have children (just as I wanted), and they were born:
*healthy
*happy (both of my daughters are smilers!)
- I have a roof above my head
- and.....compared to so many people, I suppose my life is quite interesting. (another invalid complaint: "I haven´t been anywhere! I haven´t seen the world").

What more could I really be asking for??? (I do ask for plenty, but realize it is ridiculous).

It has been surprising to discover that the most beautiful phases in life can also be the most difficult. Daniel and I are living a dream, raising the two loveliest daughters, but the dream has been difficult. It´s strange to feel such complex and conflictive emotions all at once. It has made us all behave so strangely in the last few weeks. We´ve yelled at one another, we´ve slammed doors, we´ve hugged, we´ve felt so proud of our little family, we´ve been so fascinated with new life, so overwhelmed with love, so worried, so unsure about the future, so afraid of failure, so grateful, so happy, so blessed..... How does that work? Everything collides.

An observation: The sixth week of a newborn´s life is infamous. It is, supposedly, the hardest week for baby & parents (especially with regard to colic, which is something that little Anika suffers from considerably). The first few years (first, second, or third...depending on which marriage-book you consult) of marriage are the hardest ones. The terrible two´s are...well, the terrible two´s.
Suffice it to say that, due to this combination of factors (and some others), this could pretty well be one of the most difficult years for us. But it is so beautiful, on so many levels, and we are so blessed to get to go through this. It (the trouble) has everything to do with togetherness: being together, the four of us... learning to adjust to every one´s particular needs, and to accept the personality-differences that make life-sharing so complicated sometimes. And the fact that we get to be together at all is really special.

Do me a favor, then, and read between the lines of my entries. When you read, "it´s so, so difficult!", also imagine a footnote:* "it is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!", because it (being a young mother,etc.) truly is.

The Things She Says

Memorable quotations from my 2-year old: (pronunciation included..)

"Mama is like bew-full (beautiful) pie!" (don´t ask me why. she got the "pie" part from "sweetie pie," but I don´t know how she came up with this combination).

"De A de Ari has a red bird on it" (a keen observation when we passed the Alcampo....)

"Dis is a stupid park, dis is a stupid clouds, dis is a stupid car, dis is a stupid tree" (My bad! she overheard my use of "stupid" in traffic and decided everything else was stupid, as well. )

"Ari is eat a ham-huh-huh (hamburger)" (my personal favorite).

"casa means house...coche means car"

"Ari is cah-ring (coloring) vary well"

"Papa is fuh-russ-trated (frustrated)"

"Ari is buy moneys at de store"

"Buhn-Gog (Bunnydog) is laughing...HAhaHaHAha!!!!" (whilst holding him by his ears, making him "jump").

"Whus-puh-whus-puh(lippenstift: chapstick)...Ari´s have some" (the child is obsessed with my chapsticks and hand-creams)

"Opa is put de Josh Goban cee-ee (CD) on de pooh-ter (computer)" (he did put that CD on when he was here in December... A few weeks ago, Ari mentioned it, just out of the blue).

"Papa says ´tomato,´Mama says ´tomaat´" (with such care to emphasize the different pronunciations. She said the same for "bus," and some other words). (She´s becoming increasingly aware of the differences between "her" languages. Always noticing the distinctions between Mama´s language & Papa´s language & Spanish).

"Allyson´s got new boots for Ari.....wooooooh!"

"Somebody´s in de kitchen"

"Ari´s counting...yumber free (3).. Lucas said ´cinco´"

"Ari´s got a new changing-table" (not true, by the way)

"De pizza-toast is like a polar-bear" (first, she saw the letter "A" in her pieces of toast. Now, apparently, she´s imagining other things, too).

I write this as the baby-phone allows me to catch up on all the silly things she says while she should be taking a nap.
She makes me laugh so much every day, amid the stress of juggling life with 2 kids.

Yesterday, I was preparing Ari´s bath and filling the small bathtub for Anika... suddenly, I heard "boom" and she started whining: I turned around and there she was...soaked in her green new PJs. She had tried to climb into the bath by herself and fell in. I thought to myself, "Great! Another bath-problem...it´s going to be months before she´ll take a bath again!", but, thankfully, she got over the shock and took a bath without complaint.

She´s so dramatic, it´s quite entertaining. I guess she gets it from me. What did I expect? I always get super-excited (excessively so) about things when she´s with me, and she has picked up the habit of exclaiming, "WOOOO-HOOOOO!", "Wow!", "cool!", and "hee-heeeeeee," when she sees/hears/discovers something interesting. I suppose I´ve tried to teach her to be optimistic and enthusiastic about life, and I´ve gone a little overboard. Sometimes, however, her expressions are so nonchalant... more Daniel-style: a dry "yup" or "jah" (ja). She´s a funny child.

And then Anika... Well, there´s not too much to say about her at this point. She is calm, smiles a lot, and has belly-aches. That´s about it. It´s impossible to stop staring at her while she smiles. It is so sweet and lifts my spirits. We have yet to discover Ani´s little personality-quirks. When we do, I´ll be documenting it!