ElizabethEsther.com

Doing what scares me

The sign said: do not ride if you are uncomfortable in small, dark, enclosed spaces.

The kids glanced at me. "Mom, are you gonna be OK?"

They know me. I hate elevators and airplanes. I get claustrophobic.

James took my hand, pressed it to his heart: "I think you should tell the attendant that you have claustrophobia."

I was like: "Forget that. I'm so proud of you for using a big word like attendant!"

He smiled. "Mom. Seriously."

"I'm gonna be OK," I said.

"Are you scared?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "But I'll just close my eyes if it gets really bad."

The gates opened and we walked toward the yellow submarine. I paused at the top of the spiral staircase and looked at the attendant. I sorta did this embarrassed cough. 

"Um. Hi. Uh..." I stammered. "Is there..um? Well, how long is this ride?"

"About fifteen minutes," he answered quickly. What he meant was: you're holding up the line, lady.

"Oh." What I thought was: Shoot, I can't hold my breath that long.

"Um, so," I continue."Uh. Is fresh air pumped in?"

"No," he said. "They pump in hot, stale air."

I stared. He grinned. And then I burst into hysterical laughter. Somehow, he made it all OK and I followed my family down the stairs.

As we settled into our seats, my two sons held my hand and patted me reassuringly. So, there we were in the small, dark, enclosed space of the Finding Nemo Submarine Voyage at Disneyland and it was actually, really wonderful.

(Except for that one part at the end when we had to wait inside the submarine while the other submarines GOT THE HECK OUTTA OUR WAY. Thank God for the calming distraction my iPhone).

That's when Matt reached over and kindly patted me on the shoulder. 

And I was all: Look, honey! I'm using the pretty coping mechanism...er, iPhone you gave me for my birthday!

He was proud of me.

It wasn't until we were debarking that I noticed the flotation devices stacked in the corner. 

I'm glad I didn't see those when I first sat down. It was hard enough overcoming my fear of small, dark, enclosed spaces. If I had to worry about drowning, too? Well, you know. A skittish mind can only handle so much.

The point is, I DID IT! I CONQUERED THE SUBMARINE RIDE AT DISNEYLAND!

(Hi, I'm Elizabeth and I get excited about small accomplishments.)

I'm proud of myself. I faced my fear and thankfully, I didn't have to face it alone.

My sons talked me through the entire thing.

Who's the parent around here, anyway? :)

p.s. Many thanks for all the kind birthday wishes yesterday. I felt so loved. It was a wonderful birthday!

The big picture

We took a spontaneous trip to San Diego on Valentine's Day.

My favorite part was driving over the Coronado Bridge. It's a spectacularly high bridge that connects the mainland to Coronado Island. For me, it's terrifying but also, strangely exhilarating.

There's something inexplicably satisfying about gazing out over an expansive view. The view from way up high looks so breathtakingly beautiful. 

It made me sort of wistful. Sometimes I focus too much on the "street view": the cracked pavement, dirt, man-holes, litter. It's easy to forget that a bigger picture exists.

Maybe that's why taking a spontaneous trip is important. Sometimes we need to get outside our "street-view" lives and see the big picture--if only to remind ourselves that it's really there. I know that I need to allow myself to bask in the joy of life more often.

It's easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of a busy, hardworking life and forget to create space for fun and enjoyment.

Marriage and a big family is hard, difficult work. But then there are moments when I catch a brief, fleeting glimpse of pristine beauty. And it takes my breath away.

The question isn't: "Did you wipe-out?"

The question is: "Did you paddle back out?" 
This is my li'l grom, James. He paddled back out.

::

::James will be reading your encouraging comments::

7 Quick Takes

 1. Dude, it feels good to be a Californian. I loved visiting Chicago again but realized I'm no match for the Midwestern winter. I tend to take that kind of hostile climate personally. My sister text'd me after that big snow this week and was all: Too bad you guys aren't here! It's a beautiful winter wonderland today... And I text'd her back: Way to have a good attitude! I was nice enough to refrain from texting her a pic of my bare feet in the 75º degree weather we've been enjoying here. I love her and I love Chicago. But I'm wimp enough to admit that I don't think I'd survive those winters.

2. Revolutionary Road is the lamest movie ever. it was on HBO this past week and we watched it just to make fun of the ridiculous dialogue. What's pathetic about Hollywood is that they try to make fun of "traditional" families, except all they know are stereotypes. So, the dialogue ends up being hilariously cliche. Seriously, how many more movies can be made about "the hopeless emptiness" of the suburban, 50's housewife--that poor, pitiable creature who can't get an abortion or (sniff, sniff) take a year's sabbatical in Paris?

3. Book club update. I'm super excited about our upcoming discussion of "Evangelical Is Not Enough." Just a few thoughts: all opinions welcome. I think some folks felt like they needed to agree with the book's conclusions in order to participate. You don't. The whole reason I chose the book is because it's not preachy. It's just a good way to get to know the subject matter (liturgical worship) and discuss it among friends. Also, we're discussing the first chapter on January 27th, but we'll probably discuss 3 chapters per session after that. Sound good?

4. Back to life, back to reality. As much as I enjoyed the holidays, it was nice to get back into our school schedule. I celebrated by doing 15+ loads of laundry. And weighing myself on the scale. I take it back. I think we should extend the holidays indefinitely; so long as that means no laundry and no scales.

5. Crazy moms in minivans. Sometimes I think the scariest folks on the road are not Chicago cab drivers. Nope, the craziest drivers are moms in minivans yelling at their kids, drinking a Starbucks and texting at stoplights. Moms, we can do better. We owe it to the world to do better. DO NOT TEXT AND DRIVE!

6. I refuse to let my sons play football. I know, I know. Criminal, right? I dunno. Call me crazy but I think a lifetime of brutal, chronic pain is too high a price to pay for just...a game. My husband still suffers from 4 permanent injuries he sustained while playing football. Far as I'm concerned, the buck stops here. My sons will not pay that price. Period.

7. A conversation with author of "Crazy for God," Frank Schaeffer. Yep, I really got to chat with him! Frank Schaeffer, son of famous evangelical Dr. Francis Schaeffer, agreed to a phone interview and we ended up talking about his book, the Religious Right, fundamentalism, James Dobson, Glenn Beck and the apocalyptic attitudes that he says are "fueled by an adrenaline of hysteria." I'll be posting my interview with him on Monday. Be sure to check it out!

And for more fun Quick Takes, head on over to Conversion Diary.

Blood, bottled water, forgotten children and a messy, beautiful life

I feel like I'm crash landing into Christmas, skidding in sideways and barely alive. The presents are wrapped, the ham has been ordered, the house is clean. But I've lost my mind somewhere between unmet expectations and the child I forgot to pick up from school.

She waited for an hour and twenty minutes. She managed not to cry.

I felt like crap. Like the worst mother to walk this earth as I came careening into the parking lot, spilling myself out of the mini-van and into the school office, apologies falling out of my mouth.

I don't know how I forgot that it was early dismissal. But I did.

And what's worse, it's not the first time.

It probably won't be the last. I never imagined I'd be one of those mothers who forgets her child at school. But here I am.

I don't know if it's the stress of everything but I also nearly passed out this week at the sight of my daughter's blood. It was insanely embarrassing. I've handled cuts, bruises, screams, vomit, pee, poop and birthed five children. Blood does not scare me.

On Wednesday, blood scared me. I got so faint my ears went deaf, my knees gave out and I stumbled heaving and gasping for air in the brisk afternoon wind.

I also forgot to send candy to the school so my son could decorate his Christmas party cookie. I even sent an email saying I would send it. And then I forgot.

And when my husband showed up for the school Christmas concert, I wasn't there.

He text'd me: Where r u?

I couldn't understand why in the WORLD he was sending me that text. I was at home. Where else would I be?

So, I text'd back: I'm in Hollywood selling my first screenplay.

When Matt got home he smiled and gave me a kiss that melted the universe. Then he told me everything was alright and that I should go take a shower.

The next morning he took us all to the beach. Somehow, the beach makes everything right again.

Except Jude was thirsty. And I'd forgotten to pack water.

"Here, have this," said a pregnant mommy sitting nearby. She handed us a bottle of water.

And I almost cried right there because here I am, a total mess and even strangers are offering me grace.

Life is an amazing thing.

Land of eternal sunshine

waves on the jetty @ Corona Del Mar, Nov. '08

Southern California is land of eternal sunshine. The only way I know the seasons are changing is because the light changes.

Summer light is stark and white hot. It glances off the ocean, burning your eyes and your skin.

Summer sand is hot as coals--blazing the soles of your bare feet as you hip-hop across it.

running into the waves @ Newport Beach, summer '08

Summer sunsets are like molten lava, flaming oranges and angry reds. You feel it stinging the back of your legs as you haul umbrellas and surfboards back to your car after a long, sandy day.

But the light changes in mid-October. The air is cooler in the morning, the beaches are quieter. The light  warms the ocean cliffs with yellow gold. Autumn sunsets are languid, painting the sea pink. And the twilight breezes are cold.

sunset just north of Santa Barbara, Oct. '09

Winter light is pale and thin. You can lay out for hours without getting burned. And the sand stays cool all day.

Crystal Cove State Beach, Feb. '08

Rain storms blow in from the Pacific and the coldest days hover around 60 degrees. On those days I like to bundle up and watch the wind-swept ocean near a jetty. But I never brave the jetty rocks.

Rogue waves have swept many a soul into the roiling sea.

In late spring, the marine layer moves in--sometimes socking us in for days. All is gray. Visitors wonder if they mistakenly booked a trip to land of eternal fog. If the sun burns through the gray, the light is orange--the sky a dirty shade of beige.

The gloom can last through late June. 

Laguna Beach, June '09

And then it is white-hot summer again.

Some days I wish I could witness more signs of changing seasons: brilliant foliage, frost, snow.

But then I'd have to give up the ocean and the California sunshine.

Cambria, March '08

And I've watched too many ocean sunsets to give that up.

Not even for all the brilliant foliage in Maine.

Cambria sunset, March '08

How about you? Where do you live?
What signs of the changing seasons do you cherish?

Please Text Responsibly. (Hint: NOT while driving!)

Of course he thought it was important. Dire, even. It simply could not wait. So, we all waited behind him at the green light while he finished up that super important text.

And then I honked. He was like, "HUH? What? OH!"

And then the light turned yellow. Fortunately for him, he squeezed through the intersection in the nick of time. The rest of us had to wait again.

It could have been worse. He could have killed someone. Because if he texts at stoplights, what's to keep him from texting while stuck in traffic or even on an "open stretch" of road?

It's deceptively easy to kid ourselves that texting while driving is NOT dangerous. Not for you, of course. You're probably remarkably dexterous and a champion multi-tasker. It's only everybody else who sucks at it.

This is why I've intentionally decided to place myself on a texting ban while driving. I just don't trust myself. There are enough distractions while driving (5 of them are in my backseat) without needing to reach for my cell phone every time it pings. 

This is because texting is exciting. Me likes it! Me likes to hear the text message ping!

But now I know why. My brain squirts out a little dopamine each time I hear that sound. It's a stinkin' drug!

Which means that texting while driving is very much like drinking and driving.

It's irresponsible, unsafe and recklessly endangers my life and the life of others.

I've already made one rule for myself: no talking on my cell phone while on the freeway. This is Southern California. Our freeways were notoriously dangerous long before texting became popular.

Now I'm adding another rule: before I turn on my car, I will put on my seatbelt and turn off my cell phone ringer.

I have a new little mantra for myself: Nothing I "need" to say is THAT important.

My life and the lives of others are more important.

What do you think? Want to join me?

Put on your seat-belt. Turn off your cell-phone.

Chances are, you'll need to watch out for all the other drivers who didn't!

US Open of Surfing & Andy Irons!

I was playing with the twins on the sand...

when superstar surfer, Andy Irons, ran right past me!!! Matt got the shot!

Later, Jorie got a great view of the competition while perched atop Daddy's shoulders.

There were some great double overhead sets rolling in this morning. The whitewater was pretty heavy so they were towing guys in. Here's Andy getting towed in:

Honestly, I think this is the best US Open we've had in years. For one thing, it's nice to see Hurley as the big sponsor. I'm impressed that the prize purse is $100,000! And it's exciting to see big stars like Machado and Slater come out to compete.

Also, Huntington Beach has done a fantastic job of keeping everything clean, safe and family-friendly. Anyone remember the OP Pro riot of '86? Yeah, it's so much nicer now. Great job, HB!

Visiting SoCal? How NOT to look/act like a tourist...

1. Don't wear Penny Loafers on the beach.

2. Get in the water. Getting close enough for a picture doesn't count.

3. Don't try to surf in the swimmers only zone.

4. Those brightly colored swim trunks from Lands End need to stay at home. Buy local.

5. Wear sunscreen. A sunburn is a dead giveaway.

6. Try not to set up an entire household on the sand. Yes, that includes the TV.

7. Remember quarters for the parking meters.

8. Carry a small camera. That monster around your neck doesn't mix well with briny sea-air. Or sand.

9. Learn some Spanish. FYI: taquitos are not pronounced: ta-queee-toes.

10. Sex Wax is not against your religion.

11. We don't say "y'all." Ever.

12. If you get caught in a rip-tide, don't swim against it. Paddle parallel to shore. Then swim in.

13. Don't argue with the lifeguards.

14. Night swimming in the ocean isn't romantic. It's dangerous.

15. Get to the beach early. Parking after 12pm is impossible.

Bloomage.

Yep. Spring has sprung. YAY!