What an important time to be a toddler

Since we are temporarily living in "town", we've been taking advantage and doing daily walks along West Cliff (a populated beach walk, but it has a locals vibe).

Before COVID, most people smiled as they passed or offered some sort of friendly gesture.  Now, with mostly masked faces, it feels like no one is friendly...even if they're smiling from behind their mask.

Turns out, if you have a toddler in tow, it's a game changer.

For every single person we passed today, Zoë said, "Hi, I'm Zoë, what's your name?"  Nine out of ten people nearly stopped in their tracks to say hello back and then, if they'd listen, Zoë would continue with:

"Do you know I have a birthday?  I'll be three.  This is my sister. Her name is Josephine. Do you know she has two teeth?"

I had two favorites from the day:

1. A woman named Olga who was so delighted to be stopped to say hello.  She prodded Zoë with lots of questions and we found out her middle name was Josephine.  Turns out she also has a granddaughter named Zoë and our Zoë thought that was the coolest.
2. At the end of our walk, Zoë was out of the stroller collecting rocks.  She stopped two different women who patiently waited as Zoë went through her spiel. Then she told them she had found a rock just for them. They both graciously accepted and commented on how pretty the rock was and how much they would cherish it.

The last woman we spoke to held her newly gifted rock close to her heart and said, "It seems like our only hope right now is to chat with strangers. Thank you for stopping to say hello. You truly made my day."

I'm honored we could help. 

Confidence: Rattled

For the first time in a long time, I've had my self-confidence rattled to the core.  It feels so jarring because gaining that confidence took the better part of 30 years.  So for one conversation to start to erase my work, my focus...my literal blood, sweat and tears...is: Just. Not. Okay.

So I am here. Back to this familiar place of solace and of self-acceptance. A place most people don't know exists.  And I am here because it is mine. 

And that is my sunshine.  

This little piece of white screen that I get to control.

6 months or 6 years

Here we are.  Halfway through 2020 and I feel like it's been 6 years since January. 

There are days when everything hits me at once - mom guilt, the uncertainty of everything about COVID-19, fifty heart-breaking videos of protests, spilled milk, piles of laundry, endless questions from a toddler and a work to-do list I can't seem to check off.

These are the days I almost can't breathe. They are also the days Josephine seems unconsolable.

So with a screaming child, I loaded up two kids and the dog and headed out for a walk - to find my breath.

Just as we left the driveway, I could see two people in masks waiting at the bus stop. I crossed the street in hopes to pass by quickly with a wave instead of encouraging any conversation.  As we got closer, I could tell they were deep in their own conversation and we'd likely pass without interruption.

But as we passed, one of them stopped mid-sentence, looked over and said, "Hey.  Don't worry.  It will all be okay."

He stopped for a beat and I nearly cried.  How could he know I needed to hear that?!

Then he said, "All of this.  It will pass.  I've been around longer than you and seen crazy things happen in this world. Right now, might be the craziest I've seen.  But it's okay. You...and your...is that your daughter?"

"Yes, two daughters." I said.

"Ah, yes.  I see now.  Well, you and your beautiful daughters will be fine. In fact, they'll probably grow up and change this world."

I could barely get the words "thank you" out before I started crying - but a few steps later, I could breathe ever-so-slightly easier.

Notes from a toddler

Zoë and I were playing this afternoon and I thought I was doing a good job of taking sneak-peeks at my phone.

She was inventing stories of her "baby's" day at school and asking my opinion on her doll's backpack choice and what she should have for lunch.

I thought I was playing along nicely and then she stopped mid-sentence as she was explaining the doll's outfit.

"Mom."

"Yeah?" I answered, admittedly with my eyes on my phone.

"Mom!"

"Yeah?!" I said again.

She reached over and put her hand between me and my phone.

"Mom, look up."

My heart melted a teeny bit and I quickly put my phone behind my back.  She stared at me for a second and then said, "I like it better when you look up."

Ugh. Totally valid.

The Post Office: Best Place in Mojave

I stopped by the post office today (after being gone for a week) and ended up with a few more packages than I expected.  Instead of leaving a few behind so I could come back later, I started trying to load them all into the stroller.  I pulled Zoë out and replaced her with a box of wine.  I stuffed the undercarriage with four boxes in a configuration Tetris aficionados would be proud. Then I balanced one box on top of the canopy.  The last box I'd have to hold under my right arm while I balanced Zoë on my left hip and held June's leash in a combo grip with the stroller handle.

A gentleman coming in as I was leaving asked if he could help.  He offered to grab June and the box I was holding and help me get down the ramp I was failing to navigate.

"Thank you so much.  If you can just get us down this ramp, I'll be fine."

He followed me down and asked where my car was.  I explained I was walking home, but it was only a block and I'd be totally fine.

"Don't be ridiculous. Let me help you.  My dog is in the car, so let's stop, I'll turn on the AC and then I can help you get home."

Having a stranger follow you home in Mojave isn't a decision my husband would approve of, but I couldn't turn down his generosity.

He checked on his dog, grabbed the box of wine and two other boxes so I could put Zoë back in the stroller and then said, "Lead the way."

On the way home he told me about his job, his wife, his commute to LA and the notion that he had done a good deed today so karma would allow him to be a jerk the rest of the day.

Thanks, Mojave.

Flying Money

This morning as I was pulling out of my driveway, there was a car stopped in the middle of the intersection and a woman was starting to get out of the driver's seat.  I slowed down to assess the situation and realized she was frantically running after some money blowing in the wind.

At first, it didn't phase me.  Things blow in the wind ALL. THE. TIME. in Mojave.  Then I thought, "Let it go, lady."  But she stuck with it and I slowly passed by her, smiled and yelled, "Good luck!".

As I made it to the next intersection, I could see in my rearview mirror a man standing on the corner with a wad of money in his hand a bewildered look on his face.

The woman ran back past her car and handed him the money.

Thank you for the surprise act of kindness, citizen of Mojave - the town usually devoid of neighborliness.

Running Errands

June and I went on an adventure to get coffee (and dog treats!) and run around the desert this morning.  On our way back into Mojave, there was a teeny woman on the side of the road trying desperately to drag two huge trash bags behind her.  Just as I noticed her, she turned around and seemed to look me right in my eyeballs, smiled and started waving at me.  I pulled over to see if I could help.

As I did, another car pulled over and a man and wife rolled down their window to say, "Thank you for stopping.  We had just turned around to help as well." They turned to the woman and said, "Also, we have a push cart if you think you can use it."

The woman smiled and said, "Yes, I'd love one - is it in your car, can I see it?"

They explained it was at home, but I could follow them to their house and pick it up for her.  Mojave is a small town, so I figured, why not...this will be quick.

The teeny woman explained to me that the Mobil gas station gives away food that is about to expire and she had walked from her house (about 2 miles) to pick up some snacks.  She just didn't expect they'd have two trash bags full.

After we followed the nice couple to their house to get the cart, she asked if I could swing by a house close by to pick up a piece of glass someone had offered her.

Again, small town...why not?

Then, without hesitation, she asked if we could stop by the CHP and the Sheriff's Station because she wanted to share some of the snacks with them.  So we stopped at both and she dug through her bags to pick out what she thought they might like: Swiss Cake Rolls for the CHP and Fruit Roll Ups and Chips for the Sheriff.  Seems about right.

I was amazed at her confidence in asking for multiple stops and just continued to be her chauffeur.

After dropping off snacks, she said, "Do you know where the Motel 6 is?  I dropped my laundry off this morning and it should be ready."

Sure, no problem.

We didn't say much to each other.  I asked how long she'd lived in Mojave and she asked how far along I was and if I wanted a maternity dress she had at home.  She explained it wasn't that pretty, but it would probably fit me.  And if I didn't want that, she was going to give me a dollar for helping her out.  I told her it wasn't necessary and asked if there was anywhere else she needed to go.

She thought for a moment and said, "Nope, that's it.  You can take me home now."

So I dropped her off and she gave me two boxed apple pies and a bag of Doritos and said, "Thanks.  God bless."

And June and I went home.