And Then the Beautiful Thing Happened [Or: Attack of the Fun-Suckers]

IMAG1563

Him: “Help Mom, I’ve been kidnapped by a giant!” Me: “Now you can’t run away! This is brilliant! Where are the giants when I need them??”

A beautiful thing happened today.

But of course, a whole bunch of ugly precluded it. (That’s basically a law of the universe, right after the one that says if there is only one other person in the gym locker room then it’s guaranteed their locker will be the one adjacent to yours, forcing you both to either have a naked meet-n-greet or do that awkward dance where you decide whether you’d rather show a stranger your tush or your tatas.)

This morning I awoke to the dulcet sounds of my darling children… screaming bloody murder and pummeling each other for a reason that none of them could remember after I broke up the brawl. (Clearly it was very important.) This is the absolute worst way to wake up. I’d rather be drop-kicked out of a deep sleep by cats in heat because at least you can yell at them without having massive guilt. And considering that today was Day SEVEN of the Longest Spring Break Ever (during which my husband is out of town), it didn’t bode well for the rest of the day.

Following suit, my kids whined about the special dinosaur egg oatmeal I had broken down and bought them even though it’s a sugar bomb (to which I have to say a big fat I TOLD YOU SO – I knew that stuff was going to be nasty). Next up was the complaining about doing chores during which Son #2 accused me of birthing him for the sole purpose of slave labor to which I retorted that if that was my plan then it had sorely failed because I was definitely not getting my money’s worth for pushing out a nearly 12-pound baby. Then when I announced our Fun Activity for the day (also known as a way to keep them out of the house and off of each other) – a trip to the Minnesota Science Museum – the real drama commenced. Son #1 had to be told eleventeen times to get dressed in something clean, Son #3 knocked over a floor lamp and shattered all three energy-efficient-and-therefore-mercury-containing bulbs all over the carpet and then Jelly Bean threw one of the most spectacular fits I’ve ever seen over putting on her shoes that ended with her actually tearing off all her clothes in her fit of rage leaving her naked, sobbing and, ironically, still holding the shoes.

I lined them all up and demanded, “You do understand that I’m trying to take you somewhere FUN, right?” They nodded, tears still streaking all their little faces. “Is this FUN??” No, they shook their heads. “You know why?” They didn’t answer but I didn’t care because I was on a roll now. “Because every time I try to do something nice for you guys you have to go and ruin it! With your arguing and fighting and whining – holy buckets of dung beetles the whining – and ignoring me! When I am just trying to do something nice!! You know what you guys are?” They stared at me wide-eyed as a myriad of creative curse words went through my head. “FUN-SUCKERS! You suck the fun out of everything!!” After which I herded them into the van and by the time all the seat belts were buckled 4 out of the 5 of us were crying. The only one who wasn’t was Son #2 and that’s because he was still too mad and arguing with me by muttering under his breath.

Not my proudest parenting moment.

By the time we got to the science museum the kids had settled into a morose silence (but at least it was quiet!). We purchased our over-priced tickets and threw ourselves into the throng of elementary-aged locusts covering the place. After an hour and a snack, the kids were, I think, genuinely having a good time. But I wasn’t. I was still seething about this morning and I was freaking out every five minutes because I kept losing one or the other of them in the crowded exhibits. Plus, as the hours stretched on, I became increasingly bored and exhausted. Fueled only by half a bag of leftover jelly beans (I knew I should have chucked those!), I was running on fumes. At last the kids settled on an exhibit with only one door I could stand guard over and I sat down for the first time in five hours. I did what any awesome mom would do: I completely tuned them out, pulled out my phone and started playing games. No one was fighting. No one could get lost. No one was asking me for anything. Best moment of my day.

And then the beautiful thing happened.

My kids had picked up some stuffed animals and puppets that were lying around and had proceeded to stage a show – not for me, I certainly wasn’t watching. But rather for a very elderly woman sitting on the only chair in the room. It was her voice that startled me out of my reverie and started the magic. She was laughing. “Oh that’s wonderful! What a silly horse! What will the monkey do now? What have you got in your hand there, Monkey??” My kids, natural hams every one, lit up like a Christmas tree. The show took on more layers, more puppets, more costumes – and of course made less sense. At first I was worried they were annoying her but as I walked over to pretend to “supervise” (aka do my mom job), I saw the look on the woman’s face. She was delighted! Absolutely charmed with my children, that dear lady clapped and cheered and commented at every right moment. And there were a lot of moments – at least 15 minutes of them. (They definitely inherited the long-winded gene from their mama!)

When the kids finally finished their last bow, she congratulated each one on a wonderful show and complimented something that each had done. Then turning to me, she said in her age-trembled voice, “Are all these yours? They’re just wonderful. Really wonderful.” Looking at my kids, I suddenly saw them through her eyes. And I remembered. I remembered that they could delight me too. If I let them. Suddenly I had tears in my eyes again.

But when I turned back to thank her, she was gone. (And not gone in a ghostly apparition way – although we were right next to the mummy exhibit.) Her own small child – a granddaughter? great-granddaughter? – had come back from wherever she had been exploring to reclaim her and they were off.

IMAG1570

Pure wonderment. This may be one my favorite pictures I’ve ever taken. He was just (forgive me) blown away when he finally “made” a tornado.

After that I tried to let the screws in my heart loosen up a bit. They’re just kids, after all. Growing 6-year-olds knock over lamps. Critically-thinking 9-year-olds argue. Day-dreaming 10-year-olds forget stuff. It’s just what they do. And really, how old is 3, after all? Jelly Bean is still so much a baby but wanting to be big and how could that not be frustrating? They’re my kids, after all. And not only do I need to love them but I need to enjoy them. And I did, today. Finally.

IMAG1576

We did the chicken dance in the “colored shadows” light room.

IMAG1566

We made flying things and sent them up air tubes.

IMAG1575

Jelly Bean wowed us with her mad scientist microscope skills (and her ability to wear four different shades of rainbow – AND a tutu – all at once). 

IMAG1571

And I finally got to see my oldest son in his element. That kid loves science and once I started paying attention I was amazed at how good he is at it!

As we wandered over to the Science Show stage, I pondered the magic of seeing those we love, but especially ourselves, through the lens of others’ eyes. Sometimes, when the others are cruel, this doesn’t go well. But there are so many more times when people are so much more gentle with us than we are with ourselves. I was reminded of an e-mail I got in response to my post The Year of Fake Charlotte about my twelve months of fake hair, fake eyes and fake boobs. The writer, Erin, shared with me her beautiful story (it’s a little long but I PROMISE you it’s worth reading every word! I thought about editing it but I just couldn’t – she’s too funny to cut any of her words!):

Hi, my name is Erin – Hello Erin! – and I’m a fake person (too?). I’ve been reading your blog for years (pre-Jellybean’s birth) but I’ve never commented or e-mailed you before. Not because I don’t love you or wasn’t tempted by many the entry, but I just never really had anything that seemed worth saying. Or, I’d excitedly have the answer to a question you posed, only to find the answer had been discovered by 15 people in the comment box before me “That Alicia Silverstone movie is called Excess Baggage!” I was actually tempted to comment last week as you had posted the safe driving ad campaign from my city! “Crotches Kill” Yes, Canada is cool. But again figured it wouldn’t nearly be as exciting to you or any one else as it was to me. Which brings is back to why I chose to write this e-mail..

I am currently coming on er, year 7? ish? of fake Erin. And it’s something that I periodically feel bad about, and for the exact same reasons that you penned – er typed? – in your post. So my teeny tiny back story here, I am 26 years old, I’m a Registered Nurse, married..oh and I’m bald. Yeah that’s kind of where the fakeness started. I was perfectly healthy/”normal” until I was 19 years old, when for no apparent reason my hair started to fall out. I think I was asked by about 3 Dr’s if I was pregnant (fitting as your hair thinned after pregnancy) but I most definitely was NOT, and had not been, so no one could seem to figure it out. After 3 months my hair had thinned to the point that I could no longer strategically pin it to hide the patches, and I was forced to buy a wig (like old ladies!, or so I thought).

I did eventually get an official diagnosis, Alopecia Areata, an autoimmune disease that causes hair loss Which proceeded to become Alopecia Universalis, as over the next month I lost all my hair, eyebrows, eyelashes, and the even the unwanted body hair. I couldn’t believe that it was happening to me, I felt like there must have been some mistake because I’d never been vain about my hair in my life! I felt like that girl on “The Craft” who loses her hair for being such a bully, except I hadn’t been a bully. In fact I’d been a huge skid (is that Canadian only word?) all through teenage-dom and the most I’d ever done to beautify my hair was dye it black. Growing up I had always had a complex about my weight/appearance (no need to elaborate on that one) so this seemed a pretty devastating blow.

Surprisingly, with the support of my family/friends/God I managed to cope with this change/diagnosis pretty well. I was thankful that it waited until after high school and I was able to find some really nice/cool/quality wigs that were very realistic. Unfortunately this is where my personal struggle with compulsive exercising and food obsessions started (seems pretty textbook, can’t control my hair, will control my food..or some such) BUT I am getting away from the reason I wrote this e-mail. Which isn’t really about my alopecia or about my food issues. It’s about my fakeness. So naturally, wearing a wig is pretty fake, right?

I really appreciated what you wrote about how challenging it is for women to lose their hair. I have met many people both on the internet and in person who share my condition and have even met individuals who are unable to leave their homes as a result of the anxiety caused by losing their hair. For me however the biggest loss was feeling the loss of femininity. Suddenly I was bald, with “no face” (eyebrows/eyelashes MAKE YOUR FACE) and it just seemed to amplify all my other issues “flat chest, thick legs..blah blah” I learned to draw my eyebrows on with pencil (some scary years there) and eventually got them tattooed (good tattooed, not like old Asian lady blue eyebrows) I wore fake eyelashes until the blessed day came when they grew back (no other hair, no rhyme or reason, they just came back).

When I was 21 I decided that I wanted to have a breast augmentation. I had never known anyone “in real life” that had had one done, only reductions or reconstructions. But when I explained to my family that alopecia felt as though it had robbed my femininity, no one seemed to think it was a bad idea. So under the knife I went, from a 34AA to a 34D (overshot it a bit, but I blame the surgeon). Anyway this brings us the point of this long rambly e-mail, I swear. To the point I am at today, being I have fake hair, fake eyebrows, fake boobs, and sometimes this makes me feel like a big fake person! Sometimes if someone tells me I’m pretty I want to say “Yeah but I’m all fake!!”. Sometimes I think I would be unrecognizable to people if they saw me as I am at home with my husband, with no makeup or hair.

So ultimately, I really felt like I understood and appreciated with you wrote in your entry. ” We’re supposed to be empowered and feminist and not care about all that frippery and yet, in the end, I just wanted to be a pretty princess like everyone else” Sometimes I feel like I have responsibility to women, to women with alopecia, to Christian women, to rise above my “vanity” and be more “honest” with my appearance. I feel shallow and weak for letting “society” dictate my appearance and my opinion of beauty. I think as I get older, and every year that I live with this condition I am slowly becoming more accepting of myself as I am.

I don’t really have a conclusion to this e-mail the way your post did, I am still fake – haha. But I do think that the years of being “fake” are teaching me the importance of sincerity, perhaps in other areas as well. Anyway – are you still awake? hah! This e-mail got mega long. I know you are a busy mom and I’m sorry for taking up so much time to read this mammoth e-mail. Since I’m already writing you I will include a big thank you for your blog/book. Thank you for talking about issues other people don’t, thank you for sometimes just writing about things that are hilarious. You are my favourite blog, and I appreciate all that you do!

I was in tears by the time I finished Erin’s e-mail. (And can I say, again, that THIS is why I blog. This is what I love – how sharing my stories allows me to hear some of yours. It is a gift and a privilege. I thank every one of you who has shared a piece of yourself!) But part of my tears were because Erin saw her response to her alopecia as a failure or being “fake” when all I could see was someone with a great deal of courage and bravery facing down something both embarrassing and scary. Rather than seeing her wig as fake, I see it as her meeting her struggles, head on. (Ha!) It’s so hard to talk about those things that are so close and yet she is so willing to not only share it with me but with others (yes, I got permission to share this:)). She wrote that she feels the need to be a “good example” to other women suffering hair loss and I would make the case that she already is. And this makes her one of the most authentic people I’ve had the pleasure to “meet.” So now I’d like all of you to meet her. Everyone say “Hi, Erin!”

ErinYou are beautiful, Erin! And I mean that in every sense of the word!  

Sometimes it takes a stranger’s perspective to see the unvarnished beauty in ourselves or others and the older I get the more I realize that love isn’t just something that happens, it’s something we have to cultivate, to learn and to nourish. So to that elderly woman this morning: Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I didn’t get to tell you how much your small act of kindness meant to me. I’ll remember it always. I’m a better person because of it. To Erin, thank you. To all of you, strangers or not, who have taken the time to help a vulnerable person find something beautiful within them, thank you. To all of you who have taken the charitable view, given the benefit of the doubt or overlooked a mistake – even when a censure would have been warranted – thank you. You do more good than you know.

SO, wow. This got long! (See Erin? I’m totally with you on this too!) Have you guys ever had a moment where seeing yourself or a loved one through a stranger’s perspective changed you? Have you ever done this for someone else?

26 Comments

  1. Of course that old woman loved your kids; she didn’t have to deal with them being cranky all morning. My sister and I love our friends’ parents for the same reason. We only see them as guests at their house when the parents are on their best behavior. With our own parents, they deal with us all day and are therefore less…pleasant, shall we say. It’s easier to deal with strangers sometimes.

  2. Charlotte, you have a beautiful heart. I can totally relate about somewhat dreading school breaks! I have to remind myself to chill out and just enjoy my kids too. Erin- I have suffered with some hair loss as well, not to the same extent. I believe mine has been hormonal and also from my auto immune thyroid issues and it is devastating. I’ve considered buying a wig at points too. You truly are beautiful! Rock those wigs without guilt and know that your struggles have made you that much more of a compassionate and lovely woman.

  3. Erin is so brave AND lovely!

    TOTALLY agree about seeing people through someone else’s eyes for a moment…especially in that key moment when the person you know and love makes you crazy. It’s so hard sometimes to remember why you love them until someone else points it out.

  4. God we’re a bit damned if we do, damned if we don’t these days! It’s very easy to be criticised for caring too much about your appearance, and just as easily for not caring enough. It’s lovely that Erin thinks about what kind of responsibility she should have to others, but I think it’s responsibility to herself that should come first in this situation and being content in either ‘faking it’ or going ‘hairless & proud’ – whatever feels right at the time!

    An aside to Erin – I found your story really interesting and your email well written. You mention you know other women who have been challenged with this disease, and the anxieties they face. Have you ever thought about starting a blog telling your own tale of dealing with it? I think it could be very useful, and be the starting point of a community that sounds like it is much needed. I don’t know if there are currently many sites providing that, but I had a quick google and didn’t see much. Just a thought…

  5. This is beautiful. I constantly have to remind myself to enjoy my children. There are a number of days when we are homeschooling that I start to just want to get the day over with and I start pushing them to work harder. (teaching math to my 10 year old is like training cats) Then later that night I remember why I CHOSE to homeschool them…to be with them and enjoy them. (of course there are other reasons but that is an important on!) Our days go significantly better when I approach them with an attitude of delighting in them which isn’t always easy but again it’s a choice I CAN make. Then there are somedays we just call it quits. It doesn’t happen often but somedays I know it’s the best choice for everyone.

    Love that story of Erin! She is beautiful. And you, Charlotte, thank you for always keeping it real!!!! You are a gift! (sounds corny but true)

  6. Thanks for the reminder to try to appreciate the beauty that’s out there. I’m totally guilty of letting things ruin my day, week, etc. and being too critical.

    Also, that dino egg oatmeal is GROSS. My brother used to love it but it’s super nasty.

    PS If your son ever needs some advice on how cool it is to do science, you know where to find me!

  7. I know that everyone else is commenting on the rest of the article, but can I just say that you had me at this sentence: “That’s basically a law of the universe, right after the one that says if there is only one other person in the gym locker room then it’s guaranteed their locker will be the one adjacent to yours, forcing you both to either have a naked meet-n-greet or do that awkward dance where you decide whether you’d rather show a stranger your tush or your tatas.”

    I’m sooo glad I’m not the only one that happens to. I pick the most unlucky locker in the gym because the place will be empty except for me and of course, the one other woman who comes in while I’m halfway through changing and wants to get in the locker right next to me.

    • I think that’s one of the unwritten laws in the universe. The entire gym will be empty, and inevitable I will have picked the locker in between two women who are ready to get their stuff out of it. I swear this happens on a weekly basis. It’s like changing lanes on the freeway; whichever lane you change into will automatically become the slowest moving one. The universe is a funny place.

  8. I’m so glad that your day improved – sometimes it takes a stranger to help us see what is right in front of our faces. (I have had days where I feel like I’m being punished when I try to do something fun for my kids – similar to your experience – hate that feeling!)

  9. I just want to say that I love everything about this post.

  10. Wait…..is Erin from Calgary? Because I thought the ads were from here. We at least HAVE them here- I thought it was Canada-wide. If you are in Calgary Erin, yay and hi! Me too!

    Several years ago I shaved my head as a cancer fundraiser. I am not AT ALL attached to my hair, and didn’t think I’d care at all….but I did. It really does feel like you’ve lost your feminiity (and a co-worker who recently shaved her head agrees). People gave me complements still, but I never believed them. But having seen my co-worker, I can say that women can be beautiful and feminine without hair. However choosing to shave your head is very different from losing your hair without a choice in the matter, and I don’t think you should be at all ashamed for wearing a wig. For me, shaving my head was temporary. For you it is permanent. It is so much easier to deal with stigma (real or imagined) for a short time, or to have the excuse “I did it for cancer”. You have no obligation to make yourself uncomfortable just to “be brave” for other women. Hogwash. Wearing wigs and talking about alpoecia is pretty darn brave too!

  11. Today has been the most strange day Charlotte- so many posts hitting me at the same time with HEAVY MEANING IN THEM!! Carla’s FB page. A few other posts I read AND me writing today on my blog how I was taking a sabbatical next week! IS that the universe coming together at once! With all the knowledge today , I almost do not want to take that sabbatical for fear of missing something! 😉

    Anyway, this post really hit me hard!! Such am amazing post – your part & Erin’s part!!!! WOW!

    I love what your kids did in the museum! Honestly, I never remember being a free going kid – I recall always being concerned about what others thought – not a good ting.. I LOVE that they live & play & have fun AND LOVE that the lady saw them from her view & then you saw what she saw – LOVE!

  12. PS: LOVE JellyBeans’ outfit!!!!!

  13. (Nary a word to add. just lovelovelove)

  14. Alyssa (azusmom)

    <3 <3 <3!!!!!!!

  15. Oooh, Calgary is a small city Charlotte, but you seem to have a little contingency of readers here. I formally request a visit! Come during Stampede! The rodeo is….worth seeing? Okay, it’s a little intense for me usually, but they spend $1M+ on fireworks, and I LOVE fireworks. I can see them from my balcony, so every night during Stampede I go out and watch them, it’s so awesome.

    I love your family posts- Jelly Bean is the most fabulous three year old I’ve seen (I would read a fashion blog by her), and your boys are adorable also! This was a good reminder to enjoy the good things. Today I took the time to walk home, and it was raining a little bit. Instead of being annoyed, I was happy it wasn’t snow, and took a deep breath and tasted the raindrops. It was delightful.

  16. As a mother I totally understand how hard it is sometimes to entertain the kids. Everyone wants to do different things, wants to go to different places, so until you gather kids together and take them somewhere ages may past. :-). That’s why I usually try to prepare them beforehand, telling them that on that day we all going to that place to do that activity. Thus they all are prepared and it is much easier for me.

  17. First off, your kids really are little cuties. My three are all grown now, but I remember the days of wrestling with all three when we were trying to head out the door on an excursion. My son still refers to these escapades as Forced Family Fun, or F cubed. Whatever…sometimes you have to make things happen, and as you experienced, in the end (usually,) everyone really does have fun!
    And yes to both your questions. People have helped me out along the way, and I try and do the same for others.
    Karma, baby! 🙂
    Gaye

  18. My sister is a petite person, like 5′. Since she was about 11, her nose was the first thing you saw on her. It was huge. My sister is the least vain person I know. Having said that, her nose really made her feel unattractive. I don’t use the word ugly, because she didn’t feel that way. She just hated the statement her nose made. Anyway, at 17 she had a nose job. It totally changed her looks and the way others saw her. I really don’t think it changed the way she saw herself, but in changing the way others saw her, it made her more comfortable with herself. Does this make her fake? NO!! I applaud people who are uncomfortable with their body/body parts and have the guts to do something about it…. especially if, like Erin, a disease has caused the body do what isn’t natural [by today’s standards]. And that’s all we can go by… today’s standards. In 100 years when really big noses are the fashion or 200 pound women are considered small, then so be it. People will become “fake” to fit those standards.

  19. I loved this post!! I’m always thinking about getting breast implants, but I’m not sure if I would love to have a larger chest when I know that its fake?! … And to Erin: I think its great how you handle your illness, and I also think that you look great!!! I once read a book about a girl with cancer who lost all her hair, it was called “And today I’m a blonde” (German book), and she really got to like it that she could have a completely different hairstyle every day! I think thats pretty cool too! So, have a great day everyone, and thanks a lot!!!!

  20. Loved it !! I need to read something like this every couple days to remind me to appreciate the time i have with my children because it seems like it will drag on forever but the old lady you met probably misses the days her children were young and thinks that the time went by fast. (at least thats what my patients tell me)

  21. I see enhancing yourself, either surgically, through hair pieces/makeup/clothing/eyelashes whatever in the same way as upgrading your house. We don’t shame people for landscaping their yard, putting in granite countertops and wood floors or painting their house a new color do we?

    Why should it be any different for making small upgrades to ourselves? Particularly if it makes you feel better about yourself.

  22. Did you know that your beautiful oldest son is the living image of you? He really is, in these pictures at least!

  23. I love this post. I love envisioning you watching the woman watching your children. So sweet.

  24. Pingback:The Trick To Living Without Fear [And Also For Not Getting Eaten By Mountain Lions. Maybe.]

  25. I do accept as true with all the ideas you have offered for your post. They’re very convincing and can certainly work. Nonetheless, the posts are very short for novices. Could you please lengthen them a little from subsequent time? Thanks for the post.