Right vs. Easy

Doing what is “right” and what “easy” is not always the same thing. Zefram recently challenged me to choose between doing what was right and what was easy at the Supermarket. Last week we went to Superfresh and as we were perusing the tomatoes and avocados, Zefram saw the Grocer. We have seen him many times before. This time however, Zefram looked up from his frivolities and announced in a very load voice, “He is so fat!” The man was barely out of ear shot so I know that he heard what my son had said. I was instantly mortified but tried to remember that Zefram is only four years old. Nevertheless, this is the moment that it is incumbent on us as parents to react and step up to the challenge. I immediately looked Zefram in the face and told him what he had done was wrong and hurtful and put him in time out. I wanted him to know the gravity of the situation and that saying things like that hurts peoples feelings. When I turned around the Grocer was gone. Later in the car Zefram and I talked about the situation. He said he only liked thin people. I told him that God makes everyone and we need to treat them nicely. That was the end of the incident until we went shopping again. The Grocer was busy unpacking oranges and I spotted him from across the way. There was a lump in my throat. Do I do what is right or what is easy? It would be so easy to ignore the situation and pretend it didn’t happen. No, that wasn’t right. If I want my kids to learn to grow up with moral character it means that they need to see me model that behavior for them even when I feel uncomfortable. Ignoring the butterflies in my stomach, I hoisted Athena on my hip, grabbed Zefram’s hand, and went over to talk to the Grocer. I introduced myself to Paul and he looked shocked that I had come over to speak to him. I looked him in the eye and said, “I wanted to apologize on behalf of my son. He was very rude to you last time we were in the store and I am sorry.” Paul smiled a beautiful smile that lit up his whole face and said that he had been called worse. The comment made me feel bad for him because no one should be treated like that. Paul was so very nice and forgiving. I am happy that we talked. Maybe we made a new friend.

Our Special Girl Turns Two

Our little girl turned two today. She is the blessing that we never knew we needed but could never live without. In two years Athena has become the center of the Cochrane Family. She is a gleeful upbeat ray of sunshine that skips and dances her way into your heart. On a normal day, Athena can usually be found singing to herself or engrossed in self babble no doubt philosophizing on life’s simple meanings. Nevertheless, there is nothing simple about Athena; she is the blonde, blue eyed goddess that has a magnetic charisma to move mountains and hold our universe together. Going anywhere with Athena is like going out with a celebrity. To see her is to love her. Most outings to the food store will usually end with at least one person being ensnared by her charm. They will stand and chat with her carrying on lengthy conversations. I truly believe that Athena lives for these moments because she is always so eager to leave the house. Like a puppy she gleefully awaits her coat because she knows that this is a sign that we are going out to meet her adoring public. Athena is the archetype of positive energy. There is no doubt that she has been ear marked for greatness—but for now she is just a little girl having fun. And if the truth be told, that is what makes her so special, she loves life. And we love her. As we came back from eating Chinese tonight, I caught our oldest son bending down in the back of the car to gently kiss her on the forehead. This stolen moment was such a touching scene but it sums up what we feel about our very special girl.

Sunday Church or Company

This morning I woke up with angst in my heart. I wanted to go to church and the emotion was like fire in my chest. Ever since I have started down my spiritual journey the feeling of communing with others has become part of my makeup and my daily routine. I could not understand the overwhelming desire but the craving for spiritual fulfillment was akin to a thirsty traveler looking for a refreshing glass of water. The struggle was that we had company overnight stay at the house—They were close friends that we rarely get to see. What to do? This was certainly a dilemma. I did not want to insult our company, and I certainly did not want to insult my husband—after all Lee and Scott had known each other for 25 years. But something in my heart needed to go.

At 5:30AM I got up and made pancakes and fruit salad for breakfast and set the table; then discreetly retired to my bedroom to get dressed for church. Scott came to check on me several minutes later. When he saw that I was getting ready for church he was obviously upset. “We have company,” he said. “How are you going to explain this to your son, that our company is not important? We always tell Alex that he needs to stay at home when he has company. You are not practicing what you preach.” What my husband was saying had merit. I thought deeply about what he said and answered, “I would tell him, that God comes first, then family, then friends, and work.” I tried to reassure Scott that I was not trying to insult him or anyone else.

Several minutes later I reappeared in the kitchen to finish with the breakfast preparations. Tina (Lee’s wife) looked at me for a moment and asked where I was going. I told her to church as I cut the food on my son’s plate and tried to avoid her eyes. Then I lifted my eyes and took a deep breath and asked her, “would you like to come with me?” she said, “Yes, but I have nothing to wear. I will feel uncomfortable in Jeans.” “I’ll change into Jean’s if you come with me,” I smiled. OK—came the response, so off I bounded to the bedroom with a bounce in my step. I was going to church and everything had worked out. It was the second time in my life that I have ever worn Blue Jeans to church. But I don’t think that wearing jeans offends God and more importantly, I got to go to church with my friend.

Big Brother Blessings

Gratefulness can come in so many ways. I found myself thanking my son Alex on the way back from a family field trip yesterday to Port Discovery. I told him how proud of him I was of him; I am so elated that he is responsible which makes it easier to go different places without Daddy. I told him how much I depended on him and how he is a blessing to my life. He quietly said thank you and you could hear him glowing with pride as he said the words. He indeed had been a big help. He had every reason to be proud of himself. Alex had helped me out in a crises situation-totally rising to the occasion. He had helped me find his four year old brother Zefram after Zefram had wondered off for greener pastures to play in. Things like this can happen so fast and if you are one of those parents that say it will never happen to you—I guarantee that the first time you loose a child it can be very humbling. Events such as these can happen within seconds; Yesterday was no exception. I was distracted and that is all it took. Athena had decided to express her two year old rights as we left the water room. She melted into a full fledged temper tantrum like a rag doll and everyone turned to look at her in the usual way. I looked up and saw that both Alex and Zefram were safe drying off and then returned my focus to my discontented child. I put all of my emphasis on her blocking out everything else in the room. In the space of a minute, Zefram was out the door and gone. I looked feverishly for him to no avail and after going through the room for the 7th time it was evident that he wasn’t there. I could feel the panic simmering in my belly and I told Alex to go search the floor for Zefram as I talked to one of the employees. A few minutes later, Alex came back pulling an uncooperative Zefram behind him. Alex, at 7 years old, had saved the day proving that he could be responsible beyond his years. I am so grateful to him.

A few key take always that I learned yesterday were:

Take a picture of your child when you go out to a crowded place with your cell phone so that you can remember what he is wearing.
Write your cell phone # on your child’s arm if he is too young to remember it.
Like our parents, always designate a place to meet if you get lost. Although this works for older children, reminding a child that they can not leave a specific section without you is helpful—At least in Zefram’s case.

A Family Valentines Dinner for Five

One can hardly think of Valentines Day without thinking of a romantic dinner for two; but how about a romantic dinner for five. The Cochrane Family celebrated this holiday together on February 15th with a sit down dinner. We wanted to impress upon our children the type of family love that binds us together. At the end of dinner, everyone received a prize box with an assortment of mysteries inside. The kids were delighted by the suspense of it all. Each box was filled with bubbles, a piece of chocolate, a lollypop and an assortment of other things from the dollar store. The bubbles were the biggest hit of all. The kids played around the table for about 40 minutes with them. Athena was fascinated at trying to blow bubbles for the first time, and Alex was equally amused at seeing how many bubbles he could catch on his wand. The whole cost of the event was 19 dollars but the memories will last a life time.

Loving Myself on Valentines Day

Scott and Alex were out of town at Boy Scout Camp this weekend, so Valentines Day became an exercise in loving myself and making the day special for Zefram (4 years old) and Athena ( 2 years old). I started off the event by going to the gym and treating my body to a wonderful yoga session and a ten lap swim. Yes—folks nothing says I love you like twisting into tree pose or relaxing into downward facing dog. Afterwards, the kids and I went out to eat at the Italian Market—Zefram’s choice. While we waited for our Cheese Pizza to cook, the kids and I tantalized our taste buds with gelato ice cream. Zefram’s really got into eating his dessert first and his face was covered with chocolate ice cream. He looked so cute! I had a glass of wine to commemorate the event and Athena had fun pealing the cheese off the pizza in long strings which she meticulously ate. This may not be the traditional idea of Valentines Day, but I have found that life is what you make it. Treating myself special is almost more important then having someone else treat me special. By going to yoga, eating my dessert first, and treating myself to a glass of Cabernet I was telling myself that--"I love you" in my own special way. My kids got to see me make the day extrordinary for me and them. This I think is one of the great life lessons. The bottom line is, I had a wonderful time and I definitely had that loving feeling at the end of the day. What a Valentines Day!

Family History in 87 Year Old Table

Family history is so very important; just as important as the things that will be remembered in the history books. Thomas Carlyle said, “History is the essence of innumerable biographies.” Our personal history is what gives our lives structure and meaning. Last night I spoke to Grandma Kollar about the dinning room table that she gave us after our first child was born. Over the years ,we have become so accustomed to seeing the dinning room table that the Cochrane Family sometimes loose s the significance of what it means. Our dinning room table is over 87 years old! The table came with the first house that my Great-Grandparents bought in Cincinnati Ohio when they came from Italy in 1920. It was the table that the DiTommaso ate at, did their homework on, and entertained dignitaries from the Italian Consulate. It was the center of their universe and they used for everything. In the evenings the table was transformed into a formal setting with linens and candles. Mr. DiTommaso always sat at the head of the table and Emilia at the foot. The first born son sat to the right of his father and the other children filled the additional seats. Sometimes the table was transformed into a bingo parlor with fun for all. As a little girl, some of my earliest memories where of this legendary table; like my grandmother and my mother before me, I used to love to sit on the decretive claw feet of the table; something my children now enjoy doing this too—and it always makes me smile. Over the years I have developed my own special memories around this table. This is the table that we sat around when our loved ones passed away, it is the table we raised our glasses at when our children were born, and it is the table that we signed our contract for our current house on. We are so blessed to have this table in our midst that connects us to our rich family history. Someday our three children will share these incredible memories as well. For now, they are happy to play on the claw feet.

Compassion in the Face of Euphoria

After the Inauguration I came across several people that had tried to go downtown and didn’t have a wonderful experience. This shook me up. I had one of the best experiences of my life so everyone must have had a fantastic time too. How shallow of me! One of my friends works for a local newspaper. She hadn’t been given a press pass but wanted to get a story anyway. So she set about fighting the throngs of people and traffic in the early morning hours. Unfortunately, her co-worker ran late and they never got to the mall in DC. On the phone she regaled me with her frustration. It was hard for me to keep my thoughts in check. My ego wanted to condemn her immediately. After all, it all comes down to prior proper planning my ego said.

But wasn’t it me who had lost my money on the way downtown my higher self reminded me, so why had I been so lucky. The fact is I was not lucky. I had received compassion from another human being. Officer Paige had seen the innocence in me. After all, your experiences are a state of mind—and all you need is a good attitude. I guess this is why good things happen to some people and not to others.

When we hear stories like my friend’s our brains are very quick to judge and separate their pain from ourselves. We instinctively blame them and assign them guilt in order to congratulate ourselves on our apparent success. We rationalize the situation. “If they had only woken up earlier like I did” our ego whispers. “If they had left without their co-worker they would have been all right.” All of these statements, however true, serve to isolate us from others.

The very next day I got an email from another close friend at church whose grandchildren were ticketed guests of the inauguration. They too had not made it to their final destination. Why did I make it to the mall, but not these others? I had a case of survivor’s guilt. Since nothing happens by accident, I asked God “why am I having this experience? Why are you showing me this?”

The still small voice inside my head said, “So you will learn compassion.” I need to learn to not blame others for their misfortunes.