HI(I)P Mama

Outside the HUB

Things are heating up. We had the Spring Equinox mark the commencement of spring, symbolizing the turn towards more light than darkness in our 24 hour days. Roosting in the Northeast for a time, I enjoyed the season's turn over spotting vivid purple crocus' dot the muddy soil, watching sunshine yellow daffodils wave against chilly breezes and witnessing bare trees call in the chlorophyll to soon sprout buds on their naked limbs. In the realm of the cosmos, Aries season began in full force at the turn of the Equinox. Represented by the planet Mars in ancient astrology, Aries sparks connotations of fire, free will, passion and drive, as well as confrontation, aggression, opposition and heatedness. In other words, there is no way around this time of dealing, preparing and focusing on where we want to take action or what we need to confront in our lives, even as grace surrounds us with spring time delights.

I don't know about you, but I'm feeling the power of this energy, the burn of "go time" with a mix of "...pants on fire." Almost two weeks ago, I traveled north with Elsa and Harry post their spring break. After some sacred slothly family time that revolved around their 2nd degree sunburns (teenagers!%#@!) and doing a whole lot of nothing much, the three of us landed at JFK to a whirlwind of activity. The day after we arrive, we hit dentists, doctors, haircuts, some serious mall shopping and dinner for Harry's 16th birthday. After all the action, we made it back to Choate for dorm check ins and I crashed at the Sally Hart Lodge, think a grandma style B&B in the middle of campus. The next day, I collected Elsa after her morning classes to go prom dress shopping (success!!!) and getting settled at a friend's house before her shoulder surgery the following morning.

Day 3-8 was all about Elsa. As if watching your child, who had to sometimes be pinned down to receive shots as a child, take her IV and nerve block with a whole lot of grit and grace isn't enough to test a mama's heart, she handled the next 5 days with the same quiet bravery and supple vulnerability. Watching her muddle through the anesthesia, pain, numbness, nausea, drugs, immobility and frustration with humor and a doe-like willingness to receive care, my heart stopped and strengthened a thousand times over. My white knuckling ebbed and flowed with her progress, my adrenalin fed stamina endured for the duration and my prayers found ears that listened and kept her healthy.

What was truly beautiful in this time of anxious and arduous turbulence was how my daughter accepted my help; taking the meds on the schedule I set, eating when I gave her food, letting me wash her hair in the shower and not yelling at me as I made sad attempts to put her hair in a bun. Elsa has never been one to let folks do things for her. One of her first words, after mama and dada, was "myself". She'd say this and point to her heart and refuse to let us help her get dressed, feed her or hold her hand as she came down the stairs. And here she is, at age 17, finally letting her mother do things for her.

On day 9-10, the mother/daughter time continued with a school visit to Penn State. Sling, ice, Tylenol and Advil. Check. A Reaping at Sunrise by Suzanne Collins on Audible. Check. A walk through campus on a balmy, cloudy afternoon. Check. A chilly, windy tour through campus on a sunny morning. Check. An 11 hour round trip road trip over the course of 30 hours. Check. A commitment to Penn State University's class of '29 the night we got back. OMG!!!!! Check!! Another night in the Sally Hart Lodge to be on stand-by if Elsa needed help with anything for her first night in the dorm or day back at school post surgery, as well as a take out sushi dinner, donuts from Neal's before classes and a trip to the orthodontist after classes with Harry. Check. Hugs good-bye until next time. Check.

Arriving home just hours ago, I sit with the fatigue and cconsider this role I play to my children. They are my first and foremost, and yet my role is played in concentrated deep dives and long distance connections. In poker terms, it's a mix of leaving my chips on the table while I use the restroom and pushing my chips into the middle of the table and calling out "All-in!" Almost 2 years into this empty nest gig and I finally realize that what I do is High Intensity Interval Parenting. HIIP! (Think HIIT classes in gyms. High Intensity Interval Training).

Living 1600 miles away from your children on an island comes with times that are filled with insane and intense intervals, as well as some quiet recoveries. There is sprinting and walking, hills and flats (at least on our treadmill). Having become a runner over the last year- who knew turning 50 would inspire me to run my first half marathon!?!- I have experienced the dopamine rush of moving faster than I thought I could as well as the satisfaction that speed doesn't always matter, simply hitting a target, no matter the pace, feels damn good, too. In discovering my parenting style is a HIIP style, I guess you could say I train for the long haul distances, but the sprints seem to be what this spring is all about. The fact that I get to drop everything and tend to the "all in!" intervals with my kids is a privilege, and now that I'm home, I think I'm going to take some time to stretch, catch my breath and tend to my own fire for a bit.

And before I go I want to give a small shout out to the friends who hosted Elsa and me on this trip, who fed us and sheltered us with their warm and generous hearts (and wet noses:). Thank you for being there for us, and drinking wine with me, so I could tend to my daughter's recovery .

With gratitude & a slowing pulse,

St. Sunshine