Easily one of the most important jobs I take on as a mother is to see life through the eyes of my child. I don’t know that I ever tried to walk in anyone else’s shoes before I met my husband. I’m not saying I was a bad person per se; I did a lot of good for a lot of people. I just didn’t spend a lot of time looking at things from other people’s perspectives. My idea of what was right and what was wrong was clear. I didn’t need to see through someone else’s eyes.
When I met Carlos, he was always soothing my self righteousness.
“I can’t believe she would do that!” I would say about some coworker or family member.
“Well,” he would begin calmly. “Imagine if you were her.”
And he would walk me down a road of deep empathy, the like I had never seen.Continue reading…
We went into San Francisco today, watched a play at the Children’s Creativity Museum, had lunch at the Metreon, took a picture with Santa and bought some ornaments in Santa Land inside the Macy’s on Union Square, and finished our night off watching ice skaters in Union Square. I want to talk more in depth about trips into the city, but I’m tired. It’s been a long week, so I want to tell you a quick father daughter story and then take my ass to bed.
After a long day, Celaya was emotional from all the excitement, and we were headed over to watch ice skaters.
We came across a regular in this area at this time of year, a giant metallic rainbow colored angel. I have seen this guy dressed like this several times over the past few years, Carlos has chatted him up a few times, but Celaya has always been shy around this imposing figure.
This year, as she and Carlos began to walk past him, Celaya turned and walked right up to him. Continue reading…
If you’ve read anything else I’ve written, or if you know me at all, you know I homeschool. It is one of the first things that comes up in almost any conversation I have. Often it is because I have a five year old with me in the middle of the day. Which is odd. As a homeschooling mom, I need indoor play places. I would go insane if I had to spend weeks of rain or extreme heat locked inside with a cabin fever kid. So here is yet another reason I love the city of Hayward: we have great indoor play places.
Why am I writing a piece on indoor play places in the city of Hayward in the fall, you ask? It is neither raining nor extremely hot. To be quite honest, I have a ton of other essays on my list to write, but two things happened. First, I was recently inspired to write about my city. I feel like it has gotten a bad reputation over the years.
When I was a kid growing up in Fremont just a few miles south, Hayward was “that scary place where the rougher kids lived.” What did I know? We were working class, usually broke, but we still lived in a house in the suburbs. Hayward and Oakland were the scary places. Now, I’ve lived here for 20 years, and I never want to leave.
Don’t get me wrong, we have our share of scary city stuff happen.Continue reading…
Of all the parks in Hayward, California, San Felipe park is my favorite.
Many of you know I homeschool. Homeschooling is a joy and a pain. I know I am giving my child complete freedom to learn out of genuine curiosity, I know she is free from a harsh and rigid system I disagree with fundamentally, and I know that she will have a natural love of nature and being outside because we go outside A LOT.
The pain comes with the fact that she is in my care all day long every single day of the week. Sometimes mama needs a break. That break takes its form quite often in parks.Continue reading…
I live just above the downtown area of the city of Hayward on the top floor of an apartment building overlooking the city and looking out to the hills. My husband and brother have been trying to convince me to move for years. “We could get a house,” they say. “The kids could have a yard,” they say.
“Find me something similar to what I have now, for a similar price, and I will move.” I always respond in the same way.
Especially now that I have children, location is incredibly important to me.
My daughter and I have been walking to our city library (We have a new library going up now, and we cannot wait to get in there!) since she could walk. It is less than a mile away. The hubby and I walk to the movie theater, which is seldom overcrowded, for date nights. The theater is even closer than the library. I live in a secure building. My apartment has windows on three sides (I get to gaze at the horizon from my desk while I write), a balcony on the backside and a patio on the front, and we enjoy two thousand square feet of space.
No, I’m not leaving until I buy my dream house. (I have been getting more anxious for that recently. More on that later.)
But, I didn’t always live in this big place; we needed the space when my brother moved in after my daughter was born, and we lucked out when the only three bedroom apartment in my building became available. When I was 19, I moved into this building, into a one bedroom apartment on the fourth floor. Years later I moved into a two bedroom. Now we are here.
The building is nothing to brag about. People throw trash in the elevator, vomit in the stairwells, and pee in the hallway. It can be pretty gross sometimes. Plus, our fabulous pool just happens to be located next to the dumpster. So, yea, that’s luxury living at its finest right there. But I understand also that I live just down the hill from my alma mater, California State University of East Bay (Hayward, really), and that college kids and their friends can be idiots. Also, some people never learned the “don’t poop where you eat” rule. Go figure.
But we have a great group of people here who wave to each other as we head out for the day. We make conversation in the elevator (over the vomit), and we ask after each other’s family. We also commiserate over the pee and the trash.
I am not going to throw the baby out with the bathwater, as they say, and I’ll tell you why.Continue reading…
As an SF Bay Area parent, I have a ton of options for what to do with my kids. Celaya, my five year old daughter, has spent her weekday mornings in Bay Area parks since she could walk. We have the Exploratorium in San Francisco, the Children’s Discovery Museum in San Jose or Sausalito, the Chabot Space and Science Center in Oakland, and many more play places and museums to choose from. We also have hiking trails, lakes, the ocean only 30 miles west and the bay shoreline that we can access from many entry points. You can get anything you want in the Bay Area if you just know where to look. When you take your kids to CuriOdyssey, you get the best of all worlds.
The problem I am finding is that most of the parks in the mornings and early afternoons are empty except for very small children. School has begun, and I homeschool my children. This never mattered much until recently when Celaya reached “school age.” All of her friends and most other kids her age headed off to kindergarten. We now have to actively seek new groups of homeschoolers to meet with, and I have to actively seek ways to engage her growing mind.
Also, I don’t just homeschool, I unschool. I’ve got a whole separate piece coming on what that means, but for now just know that we do not sit down at a desk each day and do formal instruction for hours, not even for one hour. We do a lot of hands on learning. Somewhere around midmorning we head out into the world to engage with it. We meet new people, we enjoy nature, and we breathe fresh air. Or we hit a museum or play place where Celaya can socialize with other kids and learn about the world around her.
Museums cost money though, sometimes a lot of money. For most of them I buy annual memberships because they pay for themselves in two visits. For the rest, you’re looking at $20- $30 per person per visit. That’s a lot of money, and I only have one kid that costs. Once Matilda is old enough, that’s another kid to pay for, and ideally I’d like four kids. Game over. I can’t afford entrance fees for four kids at $25, plus parking, plus cafe snacks, plus plus plus.
What I have learned to do is find the public parks, museums, and zoos that charge minimal membership fees. The other trick is to take advantage of reciprocal entrance fees. Continue reading…
My brilliant plan to run at night entered crash and burn phase almost immediately. I headed out after work, 10:30 PM, down a very wide, well lit sidewalk. I had only one headphone in my ear, the other one tucked neatly into my shirt. I run with my head up and my music low. I only feel comfortable running at night because both neighborhoods where I work are well populated and safe. As a woman, I have had to think about safety first my whole life. Walking at night? Not down a dark alley. Headed out with some friends? Not with all boys. The chances of anything happening are pretty slim, but, again, I’m a woman. And staying safe, as a woman who runs alone at night, is a primary concern for me.
On my third night out running, I entered the part of the neighborhood that gets really quiet when cars aren’t driving by. But I’m on this new kick to be unafraid, so I’m cool. No fear.
“Scurry scurry.” I hear something in the bushes next to me. Instinct pushes me out further on the sidewalk. I’m running on the edge of the sidewalk now, almost in the streets. “Scurry scurry.”Continue reading…
I never had anxiety before I had kids. When I was a kid, I was fearless. I began to get a sense of my mortality in my twenties. “Okay,” I thought, “death is real, and I could die.” But still, I wasn’t going to, not for a long time. Never did I think I would find myself daily running through anxiety. It certainly did not ever occur to me that I would be writing about changing voices in my head.
I was going to live to be 100, just like my great grandmother.
After a wild and crazy youth, I met and married my life partner.
Life was still grand. We traveled, we spent weekends drinking Spanish wine and watching Spanish language films, we hiked on weekends, and we ran in the afternoons side by side along the sidewalks of our city. We loved life, and we loved each other.
Then I had my first baby, and the voices crept in. I had tried for two years to have Celaya, and a dark inner voice worked hard to convince me that I didn’t deserve her. Little demons whispered to me that I would drop her; I would cut her while I was cooking; she would get a fatal disease.Continue reading…