Missed Opportunities

Focusing on what's not happening, rather than what is

I have been known to keep sporadic, but pretty regular journals for both my children. Every now and then I sit down and write about Barcelona and Berkeley, their personalities, and any milestones they may have accomplished.

While the actual books themselves appear identical -- save for each child's name on the cover -- the contents tell very different stories... I am the first to admit a gap in Barcelona's journal from June 19, 2002 to April 14, 2003 is a major blip and reflects one of the most challenging periods for me as a first-time parent.

When Barcelona was 15 months old and did not yet walk or talk, our pediatrician raised the red flag. She told us most children are doing one or the other, if not both, by that age.

Over the next several months my daughter was subjected to blood, urine and genetic testing as well as a hearing test, ultrasound and MRI. She was examined by a child development specialist, audiologist, geneticist and a neurologist. Each searched for a medical reason why Barcelona's gross motor and speech development was months behind her peers. I usually left these meetings emotionally drained by the specialists' theories.

One day I realized nearly a year had gone by and I all but missed it! I was so angry when I thought about all those doctors and how they focused my attention on everything Barcelona was not doing as opposed to what she had accomplished. All the little things that made her a beautiful, unique child had seemingly gone unnoticed.

Mostly I was disappointed in myself. After all, Barcelona did learn how to walk and she also mastered several baby signs to communicate with us until she found her voice.

Despite another blip after the birth of my son, the journal I keep for Barcelona is a testament to the shift that took place after this epiphany. The entries I write, although not as often as I would like, always make note of the everyday as well as the momentous.

One of your favorite words right now is "why." So whenever you ask me a question, no matter how I answer, you ask "Why? Why, mommy?" Sometimes it sounds so silly, I just laugh!
-Sept. 28, 2004

It turns out that after my anger subsided, I found a purpose. I was Barcelona's mother and her advocate. It was my job to make sure the doctors took note of her triumphs and to be there with hugs and encouraging words in the meantime.

I remember an appointment we had with the pediatric neurologist who watched Barcelona cautiously walk down the corridor to his exam room -- something she had not been able to do the first time we met. The doctor asked me a series of questions to gauge my daughter's progress since he'd last seen her.

"Does she know her body parts?" he asked.

When I nodded an affirmative response, the neurologist leaned down and looked into Barcelona's face.

"Barcelona, do you know where your eyes are?"

Then my sweet little girl looked at me, back at the doctor and WINKED both eyes. Her smile beamed as the neurologist and I both chuckled with delight. When we stopped, he told me "she's just fine."

Truth be told, as much as I worried, I always knew my first born would be all right whatever the outcome of all those tests, good or bad. Her father and I just needed to make sure she had the tools, whether it was speech therapy or adapted P.E. classes, to help shore up her confidence so she could tackle new challenges in her own way and on her own time.

Last fall, at our annual appointment with the child development specialist, he told me there was "no reason why Barcelona cannot start kindergarten on schedule." And I was pleased to hear these words -- not just for myself as a proud parent, but for my daughter, for how hard she has worked and how far she has come.

Today, Barcelona is a happy and healthy 5 year-old girl who loves drawing, practicing her letters, playing dinosaurs with her Baby Brother, and dancing. In a matter of days she will start kindergarten and I will be there beside her, holding her hand.


Mommy Time Column ~ August 2006

A Not-So-Super Birthday Party

When a party costs more than a college education

I confess, I am hooked on a little reality TV.

My guilty pleasure is not one of the more popular shows my mommy peers tend to follow like "American Idol" or "The Apprentice." No, I watch a show which airs on MTV called "My Super Sweet 16."

This series is all about the planning and execution of parties commemorating one lucky teen's 16th birthday -- or 15th birthday, in the case of the Latina girls.

The concept sounds simple enough, but we are not talking about a DJ, balloons and a little cake. The parties on "My Super Sweet 16" are grand-scale events usually with a price tag which exceeds what I paid for four years of private college.

The girls on this show, and a few boys, are divas to the nth degree. They whine, cajole and pout their way through every stage of party preparations and, in the end, always get their way and usually a new BMW to boot.

Watching this show is like watching someone sprinkle salt on a live snail. I am horrified by what I see and hear -- you would not believe how these teens speak to their parents! -- however I am unable to tear my eyes away from the screen or change the channel to watch something else.

These teens have professional party planners and stylists at their side. One had silver coins minted in Mexico which she passed out as invitations. Another had rap artist Kanye West perform. Almost all of them have several outfit changes and some sort of choreographed entrance.

I cannot believe how much goes into these parties, I said to myself recently while watching an episode. But there, in my hands, were a pair of scissors and a color printout of Swiper the Fox body parts which I would later assemble and hide in our backyard for my daughter's Dora The Explorer backyard birthday bash.

Earlier in the year, I had gone all out for Berkeley's second birthday party. I hand stamped the invitations, stuffed tin pails with fake hay and toys for goody bags, and served an Old West lunch on aluminum pie tins -- heehaw!

As Barcelona's fifth birthday neared, I decided to take the easy route and use store-bought invitations and thank you cards. But before I knew it, I was printing personalized tags featuring Backpack for the goody bags along with a Map for the obstacle course in our backyard, CD labels and good old Swiper the Fox. Oh, let's not forget booking the larger-than-life Dora bounce house which loomed over the our single-story home and the 50 partygoers in our mingling in our backyard.

When I picked up a recent copy of a local parenting publication, I found pages and pages of advertisements for theme parties and party entertainment. Every couple of months a catalog dedicated entirely to party supplies arrives in my mailbox. Birthday parties are a cottage industry for children of all ages.

There is some comfort in knowing other parents also strive to throw a good party, even if it is for a toddler. And, honestly, at this age the party planning is for the parents because I have found that as long as there is a place to play, the little ones generally entertain themselves.

Now the shindigs I throw for my little ones are nothing to the scale of those I see on "My Super Sweet 16," but I cannot help but wonder is that where I am headed? Ten years from now, will I be one of those mom's smiling wanly as my daughter stomps her foot and shouts, "Daddy promised"? Will Barcelona's 16th birthday party cost more than my wedding?

Probably not. (Knock on wood.)

Mommy Time Column ~ July 2006