Friday, December 30, 2011

The Christmas Bah-Roo: A Tail of Hope - Part II

December 24th, Christmas Eve: The day before Christmas turns out to be a busy day - we lost most of the day before due to the impromptu acquisition of Snowy the dog from L.A. Love and Leashes. All that we didn't finish yesterday needs to be done today combined with the list that had already been formed just for the day of Christmas Eve. We still have to finish putting out the Christmas decorations (boxes and boxes of stuff), make cookies for Santa, wrap final gifts and clean up. Along with the just the usual meal making, etc. Daughter 1 has a riding lesson at the barn. We need to get dog food for the dog (we only have kibble that is left over from our 90+ lb dog, not suitable for a 20 pounder.) Church plans are scrapped - there is literally not enough time and we don't want to be away from the dog for that long of a period since everything is new and uncertain to her. We want at least one of us around for her during the day - although we do have plans to go out for Chinese food for dinner. I am absolutely not making dinner tonight.

Snowy the dog follows us around all day. Never letting us out of her sight. In the 24 hours since bring her home we learn the following about her:

  • She snores: Last night I had her on one side of me in a little makeshift bed on the floor. My husband was on the other side (in the bed, not on the floor). It felt like Surround Sound of snoring activity. 
  • She doesn't care for the menu: Last night we only had our late dog's oversized kibble which was probably also stale - so I get it. But, we end up purchasing Solid Gold: Just a Wee Bit, which is a high rated dog food (my husband does the research) and she turns her nose up. She does like people food, though. We have a friend that make her dogs fresh food everyday - sure hope Snowy's not used to that, because I don't think that's going to happen over here. I am not sure if she is not eating because of stress, sadness or just because it's a new taste.  My husband says when she gets hungry enough, she'll eat.  
  • She loves walks: Wow. She's like regular dogs who actually get excited at the sight of the leash and runs to the front door, tail wagging. We are stunned. The girls can even clip the leash onto the dog's collar without being growled at, bitten, or otherwise fearing for their life. She looks so cute and gung-ho on the walk - and boy, I can't believe how fast such little legs can walk (makes a real cute clip, clip, clip sound, too!)
  • She doesn't respond to "Snowy": Okay, that's probably not her real name. She doesn't seem to have any name recognition at all. We try Chloe and Zoe. Nope. Well, it was probably a good name for a dog at Christmas time in the adoption center - and the girls like it. So, I guess it will stay.
  • She doesn't bark: We notice she is unusually quiet. At first I worry that maybe she had her vocal cords cut, but then we do a little more research which leads us to believe she is part Basenji; she has the wrinkle between the brow, the big ears, the shape of her face, the short coat and the curly tail. And the no barking - definite clue. We are delighted. White German Shepherd mix - bah!
  • She's affectionate: Snowy apparently loves attention and being petted. She wants to be part of the pack and follows us around everywhere (especially me.) We are cautious and apprehensive at first, but gain more confidence over the day. This dynamic generates a lot of sharing about how traumatized we all felt over the experience with our late dog, Udo.
Taking Snowy on trips in the car is an added, unexpected bonus. She loves the car. She is small enough that she can travel around with us and go places where she is allowed. My husband and the girls take Snowy with them to the pet store to get her proper kibble. They return with the goods plus a brand new red collar to adorn her neck. Daughter 1 thought red would be the perfect color for Snowy. She was right - Snowy looks stylish. Red sets off her white and grey coat perfectly.

Our first separation from Snowy occurs when we leave to go out for Chinese food. Luckily the restaurant is close - we'll only be gone about an hour. But we feel bad leaving her alone. Although she has been following us around all day - she's probably beat and would finally enjoy a nice nap. 

When we return home our predictions of her having Basenji blood are confirmed. As we emerge from our car we hear the strangest sounds emerging from our home - something that sounds like a cross between braying and a yodel - this is the Basenji bah-roo. We burst into laughter. The unexpected sound delights us to the core. 

We excitedly open the door to our bah-rooing animal. She is so happy to see us. We are so happy to see her. Seeing her wagging tail, her welcoming doggy body language, her openness to our affectionate pats and pets - I experience this welling of feeling in my chest. I can't quite tell if I am sad or happy. Maybe the feeling is grief; maybe the feeling is relief; maybe the feeling is joy. Maybe it is all of these.



Thursday, December 29, 2011

The Christmas Bah-Roo: A Tail of Hope - Part I

Friday, December 23rd, The Mission: Visit Santa Claus. Time is running out. Daughter 2 wants to see Santa because how on earth would he know just what she wanted otherwise - and the stakes are high this year with her heart's desire being the Kanani doll, the Girl of the Year from American Girl. We had been to American Girl Place at the Grove just last week and the stock of Kanani items was shrinking. A desperate state of affairs.

Now, my preference was to visit old Santa at the Westside Pavillion - smaller lines, quicker  trip (long to-do list with Christmas around the corner) and we could have lunch at Nordstrom's afterwards. But I could see the glitter and glamour of visiting Santa at the Grove  gleaming in my children's eyes. We wait for Dad to finish his business meeting then all take off mid-morning for the fancy outdoor mall. Upon arrival we are number 492 in line for Santa - over a three hour wait. Not happening. Disappointing, as this destination was far, far away from our home.

We did a quick run through at American Girl Place (the place was packed and watch out for those mommies and grandmas with the huge red bags - might run you down!). All items of Kanani had been completely sold out. Now the pressure for Santa to come through was really on. Daughter 1 buys a silly knitted hat the shape of a horse's head at a little vendor cart (she's horse obsessed). Then we take off.

New destination: Westside Pavillion and Santa Claus. We actually find a parking place not too far from an entrance and we are on our way. Santa's line is manageable (but slow moving). Success looks to be had.  While waiting in line we take turns looking into the shops. On one return, Daughter 1 and Dad arrive with news that there is the cutest dog down on the first floor at the new L.A. Love and Leashes Adoption Store. Groan. Now it's my turn to accompany said Daughter to the animal adoption center as the line is moving s.l.o.w.l.y. Double groan. About seeing the dog. I really don't want to.

I dutifully go downstairs to the L.A. Love and Leashes Adoption Center. Daughter 1 and Daughter 2 accompany me. The dog is a little mutt type. White. Grey spotted ears. Short legs. Curly tail. Kind of cute, but nothing to get too excited about. Daughter 1 is all excited and exclaiming how cute the dog is and how it came up to her. I read the posted paper about the dog. Name: Snowy. Age: Thirteen-years-old. Oh. My. God.

I turn to the girls. "Girls, this dog is thirteen. She's not going to live much longer. One or two years if we're lucky. I don't want you to have to feel sad about another loss." They assure me that they know and they understand. While we are looking at the dog a man comes up to Daughter 1 and recognizes her from the barn where she rides; his daughter rides at the same barn. His wife runs the adoption center. Groan. A connection to bring us in deeper. I hustle the girls back up to Santa with the hope that that will be that. Visit Santa. Lunch a Nordstrom's. Back home to finish getting ready for Christmas. All neat and tidy.

Finally we get to see Santa. Daughter 1 decides that she'll sit with Santa, too, this year (even though we didn't expect her to - she is thirteen); but she thinks it'll be fun to wear the horse hat in the photo and she's feeling silly and fun. Santa's lovely and the picture turns out darling. I'm ready for lunch!

Then my husband suggests we all go down to the adoption center. You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. You may wonder why I am so leery about this whole scenario. You see, we just survived a major fiasco with our last dog.  After years of dealing with unwarranted doggy aggression and mental illness, I have absolutely no desire to get another dog any time soon if at all (and I've always been a dog lover.)  Daughter 2 has been lobbying the past month for a dog for Christmas. No way. I keep telling the kids maybe in a year, but in my mind it's actually, maybe never.

So, back at the adoption center we look at the dog again. The other dad whose wife runs the operation encourages the girls to take the dog for a walk. I'm overwhelmed with mixed emotions. I feel bad for this dog - she's thirteen, who the hell is going to adopt her? She's a big medical bill waiting to happen. She does seem friendly and the girls can actually pet her. But I still feel tense and scared each time anyone goes to touch her. I really do not want a dog right now. And I'm hungry. I appeal to my family's hunger factor and we all go to lunch.

During lunch I'm trying to figure out what my husband's deal is with this dog. Is he really thinking we are getting this dog? What are the girls feelings? Does everyone understand this is an older dog and that we could experience her loss in the very near future? Daughter 1 seems to have a strong desire for and connection to this dog. Daughter 2 prefers to have a pug (there is not one there, just a lot of Chihuahua mixes), but really she loves all animals and would be happy with anything that is small enough that she could actually walk it herself.

I can't believe we are having this discussion. From a practical point of view, I am  thinking, "No way." But I am also feeling here. And I am trying to understand. Because I know from our last experience that we feel we have a psychic debt because we took a life so that we feel we owe a life. If we got another dog, it was going to be a "rescue."  I am also taking into account my oldest daughter's connection with this dog. It came up to her. She is the one who suffered the most from our last dog's aggression. I know that although logically she knows it is not her fault, that being a child she will still feel some responsibility for our other dog's death. Feelings aren't logical.

The girls go back to L.A. Love and Leashes while we pay the bill and I try to ferret out what the heck my husband's stance is on this one. It comes down to the fact that we both believe it is very unlikely that anyone will take on a dog this age and we feel we owe the universe a debt. But we are still not committed. We are hoping when we go down, that maybe someone else will have already miraculously adopted the dog.

Back at Love and  Leashes. We cautiously pet the dog. My husband picks her up to make sure she is not aggressive.  We try to find out her back story (surrendered by her owners a couple of days before to Los Angeles Department of Animal Services and the owners didn't speak very good English, that's all they know.) I am trying to figure out if she likes us and wants to go with us, but there is so much going on and the dog just seems to want to leave the mall, period. We notice her jumping up on an older lady and make the connection that her other owner may have possibly been a senior. I am hoping this lady will take her. She leaves.

I am filled with anxiety. My husband is afraid to commit. He's afraid of making a mistake again. So am I. We are worried about aggression rearing its ugly head. After confiding to the other dad about our experience, he assures us he will take the dog back if it doesn't work out. That sounds good. An escape plan.

Finally, I just say okay. I can't stand the thought of her not being adopted simply because she is old. She walks so nicely with the girls and seems to be handling the stress of the whole crazy atmosphere well. Even as I say, "yes", I am filled with anxiety and my heart feels tight. My husband conveniently disappears with the girls to take the dog for a walk outside while I fill out the paperwork.

While I am at the main table waiting to take care of business, one volunteer says the dog seems like a white German Shepherd and Corgie mix (I feel like waving my hands in the air and letting her know that the Shepherd part is not a good selling point for us.) Then another volunteer suggests that I get pet insurance because she just spent $2500 on medical bills for her dog (umm, are they really trying to get me to adopt this dog?) That's then topped off with "male" being written down for the dogs gender - big freak out moment as I definitely don't want a male dog, but it turns out to be an error.

Finally, all the proper papers are signed. A check is written (by me.) The bell is rung. And we are congratulated for being the new owners of Snowy.

My husband and I are shell-shocked. What on earth have we done? We are still on the first floor, so we stumble out the door to the outside. Since I'm better at navigating the car out of the parking garage because I know this mall better, I volunteer to get the car and pick them up outside (I am also going off the fact that my poor husband doesn't look like he can really emotionally maintain right now, so I better handle the heavy machinery.)  I have to pay a five dollar fee since we were there waaaaay over the free three hours due to dithering over the dog. Nice.

I pick everyone up. Snowy jumps in eagerly. The dog loves car rides in direct proportion to our other one not . She seems happy. She has stinky dog breath coming from her enthusiastic wide-open mouth. Her tail is wagging. She's probably hoping we are taking her back to her owner. Poor thing.

She seems unsure when we arrive at our house. We feel unsure, too. All of us feel not quite safe petting her. Already, her acquisition has brought forth discussion on how scared we felt with our other dog and how we no longer trusted any dog. Wounded souls. We and this new dog. And so we step into our house and begin again...


To be continued...



Sunday, December 18, 2011

Sharing Sleep: A Bad Habit?

Are you worried about nursing your baby or toddler to sleep? Wondering if your child is ever going to sleep on his own? Are you being bombarded with dire warnings that your kid will never go to sleep on her own and will develop bad sleep habits if you help her to get sleep each night or bed-share?


It's overwhelming, I know. This is one of foremost hot topics I hear at breastfeeding support meetings - worry about whether frequent infant waking is normal or healthy, fear that nursing a baby or toddler to sleep creates "bad habits", and pressure from all sides of the "necessity" of getting infants/children to "sleep through the night" by themselves. Often mothers will have read some sleep guru's warning of horrible future consequences in their child's sleep habits and social and intellectual development if they nurse or comfort their child to sleep.

All I can say about that is...hogwash. These sleep "experts" who try to scare parents into not meeting their baby's and children's very real needs to be near their parents (especially their mother) very likely have no experience in the natural course of nursing and child development. Did these "experts" actually have the experience of nursing their child to sleep only to discover that their child never would stop? Never is a very long time and I'll go out on a limb here and say that the answer is probably not (and I bet they most likely did not breastfeed for long anyways, if at all). Did these "experts"' actually have the experience of comforting their children to sleep for years only to find out that they had to continue this same ritual all throughout adolescence and then maybe were faced with the fearsome possibility of having to share a dorm room with their offspring in order to comfort them to sleep during the college years? I highly doubt it. How many kids have they actually known who were comforted without limits until they outgrew the need that actually displayed the horrendous outcomes they predict? I bet they haven't met any. And if they don't have the personal experience with the supposed bad outcomes from actually doing what they are warning against - how does their argument even hold any merit? It doesn't, because they really don't know. The scenarios they warn about are driven by their imaginations and fears, based on pedagogical theories not experience. I highly doubt that their "expert" advice is based on any clinical trials, either. What you are getting from them is a big, loud, obnoxious opinion with nothing real to back it up.

I highly doubt that they they have solid evidence behind these dire predictions because I happen to know from personal experience (and from knowing other parents with similar experiences) that if one does nothing (by which I mean one is not pro-active at all about trying to get the kid to go to sleep by himself, "sleep through the night", etc) but nurses the kids to sleep until they outgrow the need and also lets them bed-share for years and years that the kids do - lo and behold - eventually grow up, sleep the expected "through the night" ideal and actually want to have their own space. Really and truly your little limpet that seems as if she will never stray from your side (or breast!) will eventually sleep eight hour (or more!) stretches at a time. Not only that, but your child will eventually want their own sleep space in their own time. This could be at three or four years, it could be at twelve years. Heck if I know when that might be. Each child is unique and has their own biological rhythm so I can't say at what age this definitively occurs. I can only assure you that, indeed, it will.

I'll share my personal story because I do have experience following a more relaxed and natural course - I'm kind of on one of the far ends of the breastfeeding and bed-sharing nighttime continuum here in the U.S. (although I may not be at the very farthest end, believe it or not). I nursed each my two daughters for around six years. We have had all sorts of musical bed arrangements, child/adult bed-sharing the norm for us. My oldest daughter I gently weaned over time, but she still slept next to me to go to sleep even though she was weaned. My second daughter is the one with whom I have the experience of complete natural weaning with no encouragement or pressure from me; she nursed to sleep until just before her seventh birthday. For many years my kids were very frequent wakers (especially my oldest daughter, even after weaning). Eventually, all on their own by their own biological time-clocks, they slept longer and longer stretches; yes, my daughters do now "sleep through the night" - beautifully by the way - without any forcing at any time on our part. We have always had an open bed policy for our children - they are welcome into our family bed at any time.  Yet they were very excited when we got bunk beds for their bedroom. My thirteen-year-old has been sleeping in her bunk for the last several years with only occasional visits to our room. I have noticed that in the last couple of years she has developed a really strong desire for her own space and a need for privacy; some nights she retires totally on her own and I have no idea she's gone to bed if she hasn't come to give me a kiss. This was not a goal - it just evolved over time. Kids really do grow up.

Now, I am in no way suggesting that anyone needs to nurse their kids until they are six plus years (that would be rather unrealistic, would it not?) - this just happened to unfold as part of my unique path which has allowed me to have a very full and varied experience of breastfeeding; and my kids happen to be on the far end of the nursing continuum (I wouldn't have believed anyone if they had told me I would nurse for that long and probably would have thought they were out of their mind if they had - in fact, when I first heard someone mentioning that their six-year-old still nursed when my first child was barely a year old I was completely disgusted; go figure.) I only share this experience with you because I am am sure many "experts" would have been shaking their heads and wagging their fingers with dire predictions for my daughters' future sleep habits, intellectual abilities and psychological soundness. Well, I am happy to report that all is more than well in our little household. My daughters have developed into loving, caring, intelligent and responsible human beings admired and well-loved by their peers and by other adults. So, I am glad I trusted my instincts and honored my daughters' needs.

Because I am a big believer in a mother following her instincts, I am not going to tell you exactly how you should put your kid to sleep, where your kid should sleep or how long to nurse, etc. I am not going to fill you with fear or dogma, but encourage you to follow your heart. Each family is unique with unique personalities, circumstances and needs. I do believe, though, that helping your child get to sleep can be found with methods that trust and respect the child and his needs. Methods that are gentle and loving. Actions that foster connection and positive communication. I think it helps for parents to know that it is absolutely normal for babies, young children and older children to want to be near their parents at night (and for babies and toddlers to want to nurse); there is nothing wrong with their child. Children are biologically wired to seek protection and safety during a time of vulnerability (of which sleeping is one.)

What really bothers and concerns me is that advisers abound who warn against comforting children to sleep and sharing sleep (these could be authors, sleep trainers, pediatricians, social workers, your mother-in-law or your neighbor); these same advisers like to point out how many hours a day a baby or child "should" sleep and give the impression that this type of sleep is to be solitary and achieved straight through like we expect of adults thereby inaccurately insinuating that your child has a "sleep problem" that needs to be "fixed." This is distorting facts. Babies do sleep a lot but at intervals throughout the day; babies are wired to want to sleep near their mothers and quite often will fall asleep after nursing - this is normal, not pathological. The wakeful sleep that infants have is also protective for their health as it may protect against SIDS. It is also normal for toddlers and young children to wake frequently at night and to seek the company of their parents (especially their mothers.) This is not pathological. There is nothing wrong with your child if your child is doing just as he was biologically designed. He will grow out of it. Truly. What is distorted are adult perceptions of what constitutes normal sleep for babies and children. The problem seems to be more one of attitude and ideology.

My blood especially boils when advisors use fear tactics to not only try to scare parents into not trusting their child's natural biological sleep patterns, but also to encourage parents to disengage from their child by ignoring their child's nighttime needs. Scaring parents from listening to their instincts and to their child's needs breaks positive and essential communication between the parent and child by undermining the very essence of healthy family relationships - trust, respect and love. I believe that we can trust our children when they tell us they need comforting to sleep and when they express their desire for our presence in the wee hours of the night. We can also respect their needs by finding a way to meet them. By doing this, we assure them that they are loved. We do not need to be afraid of love.

So does sleeping with your child create a bad habit? Well, let's put it this way: One man's trash is another man's treasure - or, it's all how you look at it. In our family, we are still very active in putting our youngest daughter to sleep. We still prepare her bath, brush and floss her teeth in the evening, read a story and lie next to her while she falls asleep. She wants us there while she falls asleep. I could view her desires as "manipulative"or as a "bad habit";  or I could just accept them at face value as her knowing what she needs to feel secure. Do I have to lie next to her to help her to fall asleep? No. I could just kiss her goodnight and stand firm that it's bed time right now and mommy has things to do. Actually, she's very understanding when I do have pressing things to do, but she prefers to have me or my husband there if at all possible. That's okay with us because we see how fleeting this time is. How this time is an opportunity to connect and bond with her. To find out secret dreams, listen to worries or hear confessions which seem to naturally arise during the moments before falling to sleep. My husband and I are very aware of how this time will one day not be there any more. We see it already with our adolescent - the time to connect in this specific way passes and that's it. That was your moment. So for us, no it's not a bad habit, but a wonderful good habit.

My life has been deeply enriched by meeting my daughters' nighttime needs. I understand my girls better and have a deeper connection with them because I chose to keep the lines of respect and communication open between us. My hope for other mothers and families is that they will trust their heart and trust their child. Children have all the information they need to grow well inside of them if we only would listen. We need listen during the day and we need to listen at night. This is a lot more work and sometimes inconvenient. But, in the end, our lives are made more whole by these experiences. They help give us wonderful relationships that are deep and rich as well as giving us precious memories to enjoy when our children grow beyond this time of intense need. Fear not the bad habit and doomsday predictions. Instead, enjoy the wonderful opportunity for creating a deep and lasting love in your life...


Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Nurturing Tolerance

Last week I took a special field trip with my oldest daughter. Usually we go on field trips altogether, both of my daughters and I, but this was a special place not appropriate for my nine-year-old. Our destination? The Museum of Tolerance.


I have passed by this sign so many times on the freeway. I'd always noticed it, but didn't know much about it. Actually, something about the word "tolerance" made me feel vaguely uneasy - somewhere in my mind it seemed linked to the word "torture."  I am not the only one who thought that; when I told Daughter #1 we were invited to go, she mentioned the same uneasy feelings about the tolerance/torture connection. Which seems weird, I know, because tolerance is an essential and beautiful thing. But, I guess the word also triggers a unsettling feeling of the consequences of intolerance (which is unfortunately rampant in the world.)

It wasn't my idea to go. A very dear friend whose daughter is the same age (and who will be celebrating her Bat Mitzvah next summer) invited us to join them. Which was perfect as my daughter had been studying World War II (probably part of the reason she didn't want to go as she had an inkling of what to expect.) The potential of this experience was further enhanced by our cultural backgrounds. My friend and her daughter are Jewish and lost many family members in the Holocaust; my husband's mother (now deceased) was German and lived in Germany as a teenager during WWII - she lost a brother in the war (he was a soldier) and her pastor father was tortured by the Nazi's for helping Jewish people.

Our field trip started out in a bizarre fashion. Or, rather, I've just lived a sheltered life. When we arrived at the parking garage, I was stopped by a guard who mumbled something about needing to see my driver's license and something else which I didn't catch. So I fumbled around for my license, which of course I had not put in the proper slot, while the guard walked back up the incline - which I thought was little strange, but maybe he was worried about another car possibly entering. Finally found my driver's license and waved it out the window so he would know I was ready. But he stayed where he was and sternly said something about my needing to open the trunk of the car. Oh! That's what he had mumbled before (it wasn't just me, my daughter didn't hear the dude say trunk either). That was astonishing for me - I don't think I've ever had my car inspected before as if I could be carrying dangerous weapons and this encounter suddenly highlighted for me a visceral sense of the potential danger of hatred. I thought I was just going to a museum. Instead, there existed the possibility of violence.

Upon entering the exhibit, we needed to have our persons and purses go through the scanners like at the airport. I failed the test and had to be pulled aside to get scanned with the handheld doo-hickie and for some reason I needed to lift the hem of my pants so they could see my ankles (I hadn't shaved my legs for a bit, so that was slightly embarrassing!) My thirteen-year-old found my inspection very amusing. Her dowdy old mom - a suspect!

There were swarms of school kids there for field trips - junior high and high school. We descended the spiral ramp adorned with beautiful black and white photographs of the Holocaust survivors who volunteer at the Museum of Tolerance (MOT). The tour begins with information and exhibits about bullying and hatred and social justice and tolerance by looking at both historical and contemporary examples. Many of the exhibits are interactive using video footage and computer screens.

In the school crowd, there were all types of students. Some really into it. Others just passing the time. Some just goofing with their peers. I felt grateful that our daughters were there with my friend and me. In our small group of four we got a chance to discuss our impressions and feelings about the subject matter. This was heavy-duty and sensitive material and some of the exhibit had pretty intense, violent imagery. After the video about cyber-bullying our daughters got a chance to share with us what they might do in that situation (that was actually thanks to my friend - she is great at asking questions while I usually like to take in everything silently.)

We then began the section on the Holocaust. The newly acquisitioned Hitler letter detailing his plans was on display. We tagged along with one of the groups and we got to hear the docent explain about WWII and how many people blame only Hitler for the atrocities when in fact there were so many people, ordinary people, who were also to blame for the immense human suffering that occurred. I really liked how the Holocaust section began with each person taking a card with the picture of a child who lived during that time; at the computer stations we inserted our cards and we got to know about our child and their family; at the end of the exhibit, we find out our child's fate.

Midway through the Holocaust exhibit we left to hear a Holocaust survivor speak in the auditorium. All I can say is - wow. This is a must for everyone over the age of thirteen. Hearing this incredible woman share her story left the greatest impression on me, my friend and our daughters. All we saw, heard and discussed up to this point in the exhibit was brought poignantly to life. Living and breathing in front of us.

After a quick pick-me-up lunch in the upstairs cafe (we were literally wilting as we had already been there three hours, although I felt a little guilty about feeling hungry after hearing the Holocaust survivor speak), we had enough energy to resume the Holocaust exhibit - which we all exclaimed was made so much more tangible after hearing an actual Holocaust survivor share her story with us. The part we resumed at was the point where a lot of human suffering and really unimaginable acts perpetrated on people were illuminated. This level of atrocity and suffering - there are no words to describe the feelings that learning the specifics of it invokes.

As a mother, I felt overwhelmed just imagining the heartbreak and agony of the families ripped apart. The human suffering. The gross cruelty. Since I work with mothers and babies, one of the last sections detailing newborn infants thrown out of windows their to their deaths was particularly disturbing and shocking to me - I just can't get that mental image out of my mind; the complete detachment one has to have from the very essence of their humanity to do such an act - I find that so very frightening.

I guess what is so truly frightening is that human suffering at the hands of others due to hate, fear, ignorance and bullying still happens every day. All over the world. And not just in far away places, but here. Here in our own cities. Perhaps our own neighborhoods and schools.

Going to the MOT reminded me of both our vulnerability and our responsibility. As a mother, I worry for my children, all of our children, entering a world inhabited by people who act upon intolerance, bigotry, fear and hate. As a woman with daughters, I am constantly aware of our vulnerability just as women. Hatred, discrimination and violence across the world is directed towards women. But, such acts also happen to men; and to children. Hatred is hatred and where it is fostered it will always try to find a target - any group, person, race - that it can fixate on.

Which brings us to responsibility. The responsibility of nurturing tolerance in our own lives. We can't control what others say and do. But we can control what we say and do. We can be conscious of how we respond to others and make a point to de-escalate violent words and actions. Not by force, but by trying to understand. We can become aware of our own prejudices and intolerances. We can help by being aware of what we think and say. Being aware of how we deliver what we want to say. Being aware of how we treat people. Being aware of how other people are treated. Having the courage to take action when someone is treated wrongly.

As mothers and fathers we can take action by nurturing our babies and children. Loving them, honoring them and gently guiding them seem to be the first steps in the mission to a more tolerant and accepting world. If a baby or child does not experience loving nurturance and acceptance, then how much more difficult may it be for this child to be able to give this to others? To exhibit forbearance and tolerance later in life?

I am someone who likes happy endings - I never finished Tess of the d'Urbervilles because after I awhile I saw where that novel was headed. So, I probably wouldn't have gone to the MOT without the encouragement of my dear friend. My daughter wasn't so eager to go either. But we were both blown away. We learned so much that day. We felt the fear of violence. We felt the sadness of loss. We felt the triumph of survival. We felt the hope of building a better future. This experience made such an impression on us that my husband wants to see exhibit, too; especially to hear a Holocaust survivor speak since the chance for this precious encounter will not always be possible. So, we have a date planned for the near future. A date for the heart, the soul and the mind - a date for a more tolerant future.


Tolerance. Compassion. Love. Believe in it and live it.



Photo credits from Flickr: 
"Holding Hands" - M.MartinPhotography
"Tolerance" - Peconic Windsurfer