being

Happy New Year!

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Sat, 01 Jan 2011 18:05:00 +0000

Did you know we have an amazing e-book on the website this week....the best insights, expert tips and stories of the new-and-improved ChoiceMoms.org in 2010.

Check it out here

Mikki

VISIT THE NEW FORMAT

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 24 May 2010 17:02:00 +0000

Note that in February 2010 the ChoiceMoms.org website moved to a more dynamic format that enables us to add daily blogs to the website itself in each category of the Choice Mom journey -- with even more bells and whistles that includes audio clips, sponsor deals, event details and more.

Visit the Being section there at:
http://www.choicemoms.org/being/6

Mikki

Forgiveness, and parenting

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 14:06:00 +0000

I joined a new "sermon-based" group at my First Universalist Church recently. Set groups of 6-8 of us meet every other week to talk about the theme of that month's sermons.

In January the theme was forgiveness, and it's amazing how deeply that topic touches so many of us. How many of us have trouble forgiving ourselves. And how many of us -- even in our 40s, 60s, 80s -- are trying to forgive our parents.

It makes you realize the power of parenting to really screw people up. :-)

One thing I've learned so far, however, is that saying things out loud, to yourself, is a big step. And then saying it out loud to someone you are trying to forgive, if that person is still in your life (in this world or the next), is also important. Not so much for reconciling with them. But for reconciling with yourself.

Because forgiveness, I think, is so much about letting go and moving on for yourself.

As our minister put it: "Forgiveness is about letting go of the idea that you can change the past."

As a parent, I'm now trying to look at things that my kids will someday need to forgive ME for. Will it be for the way I talk to them when I'm angry? For being distracted a lot with work?

THESE are the relationship issues that are important. NOT, I am sure of it now that I'm getting to know their maturing selves, the fact that they grew up without a father in their lives.

Those big overarching issues we often grow up with in relation to our own parents is not so much what we felt was done TO us -- events and lifestyles -- but in the way we interacted over time. Was it respectful, or judgmental and critical? Was it nurturing, or narcissistic? Did we feel we were listened to, or ignored?

What do you think? What arrows did you keep to your chest for some time, perhaps about your own childhood, before learning how to pluck them out and move on?

Holiday gift ideas from our kids

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 20:28:00 +0000

A busy Choice Mom, behind on shopping for the holidays, wondered what she might be able to get for her parents on behalf of her young daughter. She asked Choice Moms for advice. This insight from Christine, mother of two young daughters, I thought was especially helpful:

First off, let me say how much I can relate to your pain and frustration! Every time I pat myself on the back that I'm done with shopping, someone else pops up!

However, I suggest 2 things. 1) stop and breathe -- I think it's so easy to get caught up in the commercial part of making sure everyone has a gift that we forget to enjoy the moment of the holiday. Last year at this time I had a three week old and a preschooler in the house. I was limited and exhausted, and finally had to admit I couldn't do it all! It was a very liberating feeling, and allowed me to slow down and just enjoy the spirit. 2) You are always thinking about what's best for your daughter, so think about what you want her impressions of Christmas to be? A stressed mom? I'm trying to keep in mind this season (and it's hard sometimes!) that I really want to pass on the traditions of Christmas to my children, and not so much the present part.

Having said all that, what about taking one of your favorite pictures from this year and making a frame out of connected handprint-tracing cutouts? I don't know if your daughter is drawing stick people, but I always treasure my daughter's drawings of our family. What about a t-shirt or tote bag covered with her hand- and footprints? I always give my mom a yearly calendar filled with the girls' pictures as a new years present (my mother still has a dial up computer connection so sending her picture files is almost impossible!). It includes Christmas morning photos, so she doesn't mind the wait! My last suggestion is just to go to Target with your daughter and let her pick out what she thinks grandma and grandpa would like. You are totally off the hook then, because your daughter picked it out!

Holly added these ideas:
Don't discount the photo mug idea. We have a kiosk in a small mall here that does it in an hour or so. Maybe check there? How about a picture on an ornament with the year?

For Gramma, my daughter has made her a picture that we framed. She also collected some acorns (they do this every fall together) and I preserved them with an acrylic spray and we're giving them in a lovely bowl. Also, I do A LOT of my shopping on http://www.etsy.com and found a local woman who made Gramma a set of earrings with an acorn theme and a bracelet to match - inexpensive, handmade and since she's local the expedited shipping wasn't terrible (I almost went to her house to get them at one point!). Here's the link to search for local merchants near you: http://www.etsy.com/shop_local.php?ref=fp_nav_local.

Something simple, IMO, is always best and makes the biggest hit. Books for them to read together? A plant in a Terracotta pot that is decorated by your daughter with paints with a plant she picked out at the local garden center? If photos are in abundance, I've made small "scrapbooks" with small wire bound sketchbooks, self-adhesive photo corners and little stickers and handwriting throughout remembering times together (cheaper than online and easier if you have the time).

What about you? What ideas have worked for you?

Finding your support network

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 21:02:00 +0000

A single woman thinking about becoming a Choice Mom emailed to ask about all the situations that can come up when we need a support network -- and what if we don't have a good one? Her family and friends lived far away. She was tied to a community because of her job, where she was the boss and thus didn't feel she had the work colleagues to ask favors of. What would she do if she needed emergency childcare? Or if her sleep was so impaired that she couldn't function? Or if the stress of life left her unable to cope with a child's tantrums? Where would she find help? Would it all magically work out?

It prompted me to work on the next radio show, about building our support networks. I've dealt with it on ChoiceMoms.org, with the "building support" package. And we've had several shorter podcasts about it on Choice Chat. But I'm devoting a full hour on the topic on the "Choosing Single Motherhood" show, to go up December 14.

Here is some of the wonderful advice that came from a fellow Choice Mom on the subject, which deserves to be available both for listeners and for readers, from Lily:

"While it is something to think about, I wouldn't get too panicky about any of it. You may have to not assume that your support network for the baby will be the people who will be the social support network for you. You may have to hire people to do things that need doing -- I have always said 'I do with a checkbook what other people do with a spouse.'

The answer to most of your questions about "what to do if..." is "you just do it." You won't be getting full nights of sleep for a long time. When your toddler has a tantrum, you just deal with it. When you get sick, you just handle it. There will be times when you will think 'I just can't take too much more of this,' but you'll get past them. I have a few numbers of people I could call, and 99 percent of the time, I get through it just by thinking I COULD call them if I had to. I almost never do.

In terms of work, you will be missing more days than you are now -- that's just a given. The child will be unexpectedly ill, your daycare provider will call in sick or will be unexpectedly closed, and you will have to take time off. If you're senior, I assume you've been working there for a while. This is when it is going to be time for payback for all the years when you took the late nights, worked all the holidays, or whatever. I view it as a bank -- when I had the freedom to work late, pick up the rotten shift, whatever, I did it. I figured at some point in my life, I'd need to take advantage of needing to take time off, and then no one could say I was a shirker, because I'd have years of going the extra mile at my back. And now I do have to take more time off, and I don't think about it at all. I don't feel bad about it, and I don't view it as revenge for all those times in the past (I'm not trying to 'stick it' to my colleagues), but as something I've earned both administratively and in the goodwill bank.

You will most likely lose contact or have much less contact with your friends who don't have kids. That's just the way it is -- their childless lives will continue on the path of what it is now -- it's only natural. They may come and visit once in a while or call you (although they won't understand why you really can't chat right then), but you will become less close. It's just the way of things and normal in the social life cycle.

When I lived in the U.K., I found the culture a lot "smaller" -- even in London -- than it is in the US. What I mean by that is that even in the larger towns, you had a local area/unit that you could fairly easily know who was around you. You also were far more likely to have access to "an older lady who does" or "a young woman who babysits" or the shopkeeper's wife/daughter who was looking for some work on the side.

Where I live in the U.S., my area is pretty homogenous, so it's very consistently upper-middle class professionals, and the pool of people out there who fill some of the support structure roles simply aren't there. We hire companies to do the cleaning, no one knows of a babysitter that isn't family, and the nannies/au pairs are imported from other countries. If I were in the U.K. now, I'd probably spend some time before having the baby finding something locally you like to do. Find a local pub that you enjoy, join a church, join a society, etc. In those places you will probably find people who know people and will probably come across a more broad spectrum of society than you would in a similar situation in the US. I know many will think it's not true, but in the U.S., we're actually far more likely to have church congregations, neighborhoods, etc., where everyone is very much the same. I'm quite sure that were I still in the U.K., I'd have had a much easier time finding people to babysit or do other things that I might need done through local contacts than here.

Here's the big one, though. Only you know how independent you truly are. You mentioned your fear of not being able to cope when a toddler has a tantrum or when you're ill. How have you handled things in the past -- are you someone who tends to walk away from things, or are you someone who tends to just get through it? Are you someone for whom it would be nice to have someone around to assist, or are you someone for whom this kind of assistance is essential and necessary?

The person you are now and your coping styles will not really change. You are not going to be going to some other planet where you change your identity. You will just be you, but with a child. Don't plan for the person you're not -- plan for the person you are."

What about you? How have you coped with the stresses of single parenting? Of parenting? Of emergencies and sleep deprivation and tantrums? Of friends and family who aren't really there? Where have you found your support network? Has it all worked out magically?

A mother's first year in reflection

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 01:28:00 +0000

from Kristina

My son turns one tomorrow, and I couldn’t help and think about how life has changed in the past year. I thought I would share some of them with you.

Things I miss:

Sleep

Ability to plan

Going to the gym

Things I don’t miss:

Lunch w/friends (I normally spend it at my son's daycare now)

Happy Hour

Going shopping or going to the movies

My new joys in life:

My son’s laugh

His reaction when I pick him up from daycare or surprise him w/ a visit during the day

Watching him learn new thing/experience things for the first time

That fact that he learned the word “Yah” but still doesn’t know the work “No”

My surprises:

Regardless of how much fun my single/childless friends are having, I would rather be with my son.

How much I can truly accomplish during his 20min nap.

Changing the diapers not that bad (knew my poor sense of smell would come in handy)

How much energy I can muster when sick/tired and my son needs/wants something.

My time/money ratio has changed incredibly; I am more willing to pay to have someone do something I can do just so I can spend the time with my son.

Tragic experience leads to estate plan tips

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Sat, 08 Aug 2009 16:21:00 +0000

submitted by Theresa, after Choice Moms started delving into the subject, partly because of the "Choosing Single Motherhood" radio show on the topic (see ChoiceMoms.org for details)

I have some advice for those new to this topic having just started and gone through my own processes around this. There are even things to consider now that our economy is going through a tough time that we may not have had to consider a couple of years ago if we had done this then.

Guardianship/Will: I found a reputable family attorney who helped me with my legal will and guardianship paperwork. A couple of things I did was decide to...
(1)"Gift my home" to my child. When my son is born the home will be gifted to him in the deed "upon death." NOT at market value at time of purchase. Very important. This means if you ever die or you get into an accident and since your baby is your beneficiary, though you may have a will, you need to make sure that your home is never taken to pay off any debt and your child inherits it. I tell you this from experience. Some attorneys don't even realize that gifting needs to occur in a special way for younger beneficiaries.
(2) Guardianship - I not only chose parental guardians but in my case I listed a contingent guardian as well as financial guardian. For example, my sister (though would raise my son well) has a job that is not conducive to how i would raise a child due to the high risks of her job and the fact she is moving around constantly. She is however, EXCELLENT with finances and would do what is in my sons best interest when it comes to his inheritance, life insurance, etc. So I decided on a best friend for parental guardianship and my sister as contingent, but the sole financial guardian with my aunt as her backup. I of course met with each and told them of my wishes and got their blessing to proceed - something very important.
(3) the will is a will... basic standard but doesn't hold much in court unless you take care of your financial status and beneficiary status at EACH account and not to mention sneaky banks trying to not lose more money! I know this from experience too. Especially in the state of NY! So with that.....

Accounts/ Life Insurance/ Beneficiaries:
(1) The REP: You will need a good financial rep and/or accountant (I decided to find both - one to tell me how to approach best in this economy and the other to manage the accounts).
(2) LATE STAGE PREG BENEFICIARIES: make certain that once the baby is born (and issued an SSN) your paperwork is complete leaving your assets (w/instruction ) to your child, to be signed and mailed. Before birth/ssn make sure they place a clause stating "any children of jane doe, etc" so that God forbid you get sick during birth, etc. or become incapacitated other ways your child is taken care of.
(3) Life insurance: 3 times your salary is best, no matter what advice they say - "wait until later, they don't need that much now, etc."... not true!
(4) SCHOOL: plan for college. Some reps can get you an account specific for this or tell you about alternate accounts or bank accts to open... like Long term CDs, etc which do not require much money for you to open them, but grow nicely over time. Esp the next 17 years.
(5) Savings accounts at banks allow beneficiaries BUT checking accounts do NOT. I didn't realize this as did many of my other friends when we filled out the little beneficiary card! It is important to make sure that the surplus of your money is left in savings and only minimally in checking as needed. A bank will make it difficult to get the checking closed and the money there will have to go into an estate account where your guardians/child needs to file court docs each time to open and close the account as applicable. Annoying!

Most important part of all of this!? MAKE SURE YOU KEEP COPIES of everything. Not just a list of the accounts and their numbers and telephone numbers BUT if you elect beneficiaries, let's say, on a website at work, etc.... make sure you PRINT a copy of the fact you submitted that and it was saved. Here is the kicker (AND THIS HAPPENED TO ME!!!!).... MAJOR companies and banks that are trying not to lose 'more' money have this new approach.... they (a) Claim that there are no beneficiaries listed even though you have a nice list laid out... so to get those funds becomes a freaking nightmare and court battle in surrogates court. The calls, the data, etc. suddenly disappear. You trust them to hold the data but when they see the amounts (if larger over time) they do a sweep. If my own mom did not make sure to save copies of statements (and she saved everything and is not the norm) we would have never been able to get any funds or go to court to fight for them. (b) Claim life insurance was dropped by either the company or the policy holder. Make sure the policy and end date paperwork is saved safely.

Anyway sorry for the long email but having lived the experience and now doing my own I am finding all these things are a great help.

I at first didn't think I needed to be so cautious until a dear friend of mine, Susan, who was in her 8th month, was in a car accident. He baby delivered fine but she was in a coma for some time and eventually passed away. Had nothing done and well, unfortunately everything was in shambles for some time. She had a boyfriend so was not an SMC BUT did not list him either so it became a freaking nightmare for that family.

And I recently went through some of the crazier company stuff when my mom passed suddenly and my younger sister and I had to go to courts to exercise the will, which became meaningless in NY without all the other stuff.

Hope this helps those that are interested in some hard-earned advice. :-))

Not feeling shame

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 13:51:00 +0000

A Choice Mom I've known for awhile via email has been in touch lately. Preparing for the inevitable time that she needs to start talking to teachers about how her family was created, she's asked me how I manage to handle the slings and arrows I receive when people learn I'm a Choice Mom....how do I manage to be so open about it, with the book and website and interviews, and don't I fear that my kids might be negatively impacted by the public aspect of how our family was created?

Here's what I told her.

I'd love to get other women's perspectives on their own story.

"I really haven't had any guilt or remorse about the Choice Mom path, and my kids both take it very much in stride as simply the way our family is. I'm proud of how we created our family, and I don't think they see anything wrong with it -- most likely because of my comfort level.

My daughter is 10 now. When she was younger -- about 4/5 -- she used to introduce herself to new kids at playground with the line that her mom is a Choice Mom. She didn't entirely know what that meant. And certainly the other kids didn't. But she knew I'd written a book about it, and she was proud.

She doesn't introduce herself like that anymore, but I know she's still proud of who we are as a family. So that simply seems to take care of things.

And my son, now 5, simply doesn't seem to care that we don't have a dad, even though several of his friends do.

I know you aren't apologetic for having built a family on your own. And that you embrace the family you are, rather than what you are not. So maybe my advice would be to simply let them see, through your example, as you talk to others about it, that there is nothing to be ashamed of. They take a lot from your cue.

I don't remember which chapter of the book that is in, but I think it's the one about raising donor-conceived kids. And certainly the "Do I Have a Dad" CD and some of the podcasts (i.e. Ken Daniels interview early last year) raise the point that the more matter-of-fact you are in the approach, the better off everyone will be.

As far as judgment goes....there will always be judgment from others, especially about people they don't know, and things they know nothing about. Look at the way everyone jumps all over celebrity "news." But those people simply don't matter to me. I might get hot and bothered at first -- and yes, every once in a while I do get the errant snide email -- but ultimately they aren't the people who matter to me. They're pretty small people, if they want to expend their own energy passing judgment on others.

Of course, there are so many strong Choice Moms around -- that I now know via the discussion board, workshops, in my local community, etc. -- that I personally don't waste my own energy on the people who don't "get" the fact that my kids and I are happy, healthy and well-balanced."

So...what about you? Are you nervous about how other people in our children's lives might react to the way your family was created? What tools do you offer your kids about dealing with classmates, teachers, and others who might look negatively on the Choice Mom path?

Saying No

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Thu, 28 May 2009 14:53:00 +0000

Sometimes there are so many things to do, I don't know where to start.

But I also don't know where to end.

As resourceful, goal-oriented, "make things happen" women, not only do we tend to have a hard time asking for help -- but we sometimes have trouble saying no.

Before my daughter was born, 10 years ago last week, I worked at least 50 hours per week at my one job, socialized on weekends, wrote a novel on the side. That was good, but not great.

Now that I've been a mother for a full DECADE, I can see that this new role has made me into a much more diverse human being. I care about what happens in my childrens' school, so I'm active with the PTA, particularly its advocacy committee. Recently I helped host a community discussion with parents from 12 local schools after our city erupted into uncomfortable feelings around race, equity in the schools, and integration/segregation.

I care about the spiritual development of my daughter and 5-year-old son, so I found us a great community at the Unitarian Universalist church. I care about being connected there, so for two years I've been working toward our 150th anniversary celebration this fall. Next week I begin putting together a 120-page church history book based on what I've learned heading our archives efforts.

I care about finding my own balance, so that I can be the most stress-free mother I can be (which, granted, is sometimes still quite stressed), so I've been proactive about meeting new people and developing new friendships that fit with my lifestyle.

And, of course, I continue creating and reaching out with the Choice Moms community, here online, and in face-to-face workshop events that in 2009 take me to D.C., Chicago, Los Angeles, and Atlanta.

I feel so much more powerful as a person truly connected to the wider universe than I was when I worked 50 hours a week creating publications for Time Inc. clients.

But now....it's time to slow down.
It's time to start saying no.

One of the things I am hearing more about is the fatigue of kids, who are scheduled and web-connected and plugged in as much as their parents are.

I think it's something we tend to teach them, not only by putting them in so many enriching activities, but by setting an example of that ourselves.

Summer is coming. Trees and flowers are blooming. Lakes and rivers are winking. Books are calling.

I, for one, want to take some concentrated time now to declutter our lives and simplify our days.

What about you? Are you feeling overcommitted as an adult, wanting to take a step back and create more private moments with your kids? What are you going to do about it this month? Next month?

Finding joy from the dark places

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 15:38:00 +0000

It's been an interesting new time of awakening for me this past year. Discovering what doesn't work for me anymore. Trying to figure out what does. Opening up to new people. Saying goodbye to others. Setting new priorities. Placing greater value on things I didn't pay attention to before.

Through it all, I'm emerging to a place that can best be characterized as a celebration of "not knowing."

There is a kind of rapture -- if I can safely use that word -- in tossing things up in the air and seeing what you want to catch on the way down.

Especially in this time of economic turmoil, many of us are on unsteady footing. Often our inclination is to want to stand as solidly as possible, looking for order and consistency and unchanging, reliable networks we can count on.

Of late, I've been debating (one night for five hours!) with a new young friend who strongly believes, as a Libertarian, that we need to collapse in free-fall fashion before we can re-emerge as a stronger nation. His view is that in Depression we give ourselves a chance to find community and the other blessings of life that mean more to us, in the long run, than material goods and savings accounts. That each of us has the right to prioritize our earnings into the values that mean something to us individually.

This idea, that I heard again yesterday at my Unitarian Universalist church -- that being lost and in the dark is perhaps the best way to shatter illusions and recognize what it is that ultimately matters to us as individuals -- reflects exactly where I am on my particular journey.

A couple from my church, who lost their daughter to a drunk driver several years ago, have talked openly about the strength they got from community. As the mother said recently, in the sanctuary where her daughter's memorial service had been held, "the love in this room was greater than my grief."

I saw a similar message last year, when an outpouring of support in a small town enlightened us at a VFW fundraiser, held to help my uncle's family cope with the difficulties of his quadriplegia at age 69. From the tremendous darkness of his tragic accident also came the opportunity to recognize tremendous light in our midst.

As my favorite Rev. Kate put it, in a sermon about being Broken and Blessed, "from ordinary life comes extraordinary love."

Every day now I see enormous support and insight coming from Choice Moms to each other on the discussion board. We are finding our voices, and are sharing our strengths as women, as mothers, as single people in this vast universe.

Our journey is not about knowing all the answers and doing things correctly, safely and without grief.

Our journey is about finding the people who will surround us -- with warmth, with a push, with a spark -- as we find our way through the dark, emerge into the light, and return again and again.

Most importantly, our journey is about collecting the positive energy to our side so that our beloved children will feel the same security and joy, in moments of connection, that will serve them on their own path.

Evolving as individuals with edges touching

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 17:39:00 +0000

We celebrated Charles Darwin's 200th birthday at my Unitarian Universalist church this week, complete with painting a papier mache tortoise named Chuck, a panel discussion about the inevitable debate of religion vs. science, and a sermon focused specifically on Darwin the Man himself.

As my daughter will tell you, I LOVE Darwin. And I'm not entirely sure why. Something about the random interconnection of life and its results as the evolutionary force of nature. It is why the novel I am slowly evolving myself is titled EVOLVE, and why my bedroom is filled with books about Darwin's theories.

At church, I admired again the words of our gifted writer/speaker Rev. Kate, as she pulled together disparate bits about how Evolution Rocks (look up the song lyrics), how the Church of England has published an apology for its treatment of Darwin's theory in his day, and how the Unfinished Business of life is the continuous pursuit of becoming who we are at our core.

"Evolution is," she said. We're never just done.

Life builds from our "successful mistakes," which is not the oxymoron we might otherwise believe it to be.

When I look at my children, I want them to have perfection. I want to tell them everything they need to know. I don't want them to fall down. I don't want them to get hurt. But, of course, they will.

Last weekend, my 10-year-old daughter did what I thought was not possible. She let a solicitor, a stranger, into the house while I was upstairs. Actually opened the door and let him in, because she didn't want to "not be nice" and make him stand in the cold.

She knew that this was a mistake. Thankfully, it was a mistake that was not tragic -- I kicked him out and she and I had an involved, emotional talk. But it freaked me out tremendously. How could she not KNOW this? Haven't I talked to her well enough? And for heaven's sake, how do I convince her that being "nice" is not always the best policy?

She had made a mistake. We talked about it. We learned from it. Hopefully we evolved from the experience. And perhaps that random encounter with a solicitor might actually help her avoid someone more harmful someday.

Rev. Kate also pointed out one of my favorite mantras: that we are formed from that which is both predictable, and unexpected.

We all need structure to keep us afloat. But it is in the unexpected paths -- such as Choice Motherhood, such as a child's questions -- where we discover who we really are.

The recent Facebook phenomenon of writing down 25 Random Things about ourselves is an indulgent little exercise. But it also reminds me of something interesting that I learned in a UU workshop a few years ago, when the simplest question from Rev. Frank led to profound moments of discovery for many of us in the room. He asked us simply to talk about the moments that piqued our spiritual journeys -- and I found myself remembering something from my childhood that I'd forgotten. About the time my parents took in a few members of a traveling musical group from Chicago that came to our small town, and our neighbors across the street had a fit because they were black.

In our very white town, this kind of bigotry was something I'd never experienced before. And it had a profound impact on my values today. I have an extremely short fuse for intolerance. For that unexpected moment in time, I am grateful for what it taught me.

Rev. Kate also pointed out that on our individual paths to perfection, we still argue about what evolution means.

I see this, sometimes good-naturedly, sometimes mean-spiritedly, in our own discussions -- from outsiders, as well as from within -- about Choice Motherhood.

The California single woman who now has 14 children, after delivering eight at once, churns up a tremendous amount of viewpoints about what is right and wrong. Are we right to make choices for ourselves, but then not allow others to make choices they believe are right to make? Who judges who is fit, and who is not? Is a large family worse off than a small family? Is a single-parent family worse off than a two-parent family? Can one woman really love and care for that many healthy and potentially unhealthy children? And if not, who bears responsibility for them? Do we get angry because we care, or because we think we're better than she is?

Most of these good questions. Without answers. But the discussion itself is good to have.

Again, I believe that we discover our own values in having conversation about what is important to us -- and don't need to always impose our own values onto others. What is important is that we learn what we need in order to become closer to the person we are at our core.

We evolve. As individuals, Rev. Kate said, whose edges are blurred and touching.

The church service also included a perfect example of evolution in action. One of the pillars of our church has been dispatched to Iraq for a year as a member of the National Guard. His family was encircled by the congregation; his daughter (my daughter's age) was encircled by her classmates. We used ritual, and words, and comfort shawls, and tears, to send him off. An individual, doing what he needs to do, whose edges have very much touched those of hundreds of people in his community -- and will continue to do so, in yet another community he finds himself connected to.

It is our own aspiration as Choice Moms. Individuals, in a community we have built ourselves, with edges touching.

for more about the community we could be building in our Choice Mom quest, see the ChoiceMoms.org website package this month about "finding partners"

becoming our own support network

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 06:44:00 +0000

This month on the ChoiceMoms.org website we are taking a special look at how we build our tribe as single parents, and why it is important.

Knowing hundreds of Choice Moms, and even some of the rare married parents, I know that the single most important factor in succeeding as a parent is having a strong support network.

Some of the women in the Thinking stage are afraid of taking this path on their own. Others, especially in the Becoming stage, home with newborns, think they are supposed to do this alone, and are more typically reluctant to ask for help.

Those of us in the Being stage tend to have the wisdom to know that we all need a wide support network -- even our married friends require more than one partner to succeed.

In 2009, it is a Choice Moms goal to build greater bridges in the community so that we in the Being stage can be there for those in the Thinking, Trying, Waiting and Becoming stages.

We are often our own best advocates. I hear it every day on the Choice Mom discussion board, when we congratulate each other on baby steps or offer insight into a woman's fears. (It always dismays me greatly when we squabble about petty things, but that is inevitable in every family.) And I see the euphoria that so many women get at the face-to-face Choice Mom networking events.

In this month's Waiting blog, there is a heart-rending story of a Choice Mom-in-the-making who had to quietly go back to work after finding out about her miscarriage, attempting to act stoic around colleagues who never knew she had conceived. She turned to the Choice Mom discussion board to share her sorrow.

At Choice Mom events, and in podcasts, we have captured some of the intense grief and anger that women in the Thinking stage can feel. Online we hear women in the Being stage admit that which they are afraid to say out loud to friends and family: single parenting is exhausting, isolating and often depressing. Single women who have been there and reached the other side as Moms can offer tremendous support, as we read in the January 2009 Thinking and Becoming blogs.

Choice Moms everywhere need to be there for the women who lose the support of family and friends they had thought they could count on. Such as the woman I know whose mother said news of her pregnancy was "the worst thing I've ever heard." The Thinker who was disinvited from a family holiday because of her plans. The small-town teacher shunned by work colleagues.

We need to help these women find new support in us.

For the sleep-deprived new mom exhausted with trying to figure out the diaper genie and the baby carrier and how to interpret her baby's cries, we need to share our own survival stories.

And within our own circle -- dealing with the stress of kids who forget to change their underwear everyday, and have to be reminded to brush hair and teeth before the bush comes, and squabble with siblings -- we need to remind each other of the importance of friendships outside of mothering. Snapping occurs much less frequently when playdates aren't the only item on our socializing agenda.

A challenge of Choice Motherhood is that we're often older than other parents who have kids the age of our children. We commonly lose a taste for dating and don't easily engage in intimate relationships.

We do naturally meet new people through shared playground, church and school activities. But we also need to consciously make the effort to build our networks, and the ChoiceMoms.org website gives advice about how to do that if we've lost the way.

We should never be everything to our children, and our children should never be everything to us.

How have you found support?

Owning the holidays

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 20:13:00 +0000

I have a major bugaboo about Thanksgiving. It's never been a particularly friendly holiday for me, ironically. Started when my childhood home was damaged by fire, and water hose, and smoke, the day before Thanksgiving and caused long-lasting emotional turmoil in our family for some time thereafter.

Then there was the annual bout of strep throat that typically left me unable to eat in subsequent years (psychosomatic or not) for the Big Dinner.

The many years feeling out of place at other family's dinners when I was transplanted to the East Coast and could afford only to come home at Christmas.

The dinner with friends when we didn't understand that defrosting would require days in the refrigerator, not a bacteria-brewing day on the countertop.

My own skewed perceptions that Thanksgiving is for giant cuddly family time with extended relatives arriving and filling up the house. My actual family always consisted of two parents (still together, which is an amazing blessing), one brother, one grandparent. My dad had one sister and step-family we never saw. My mom has one brother.

Last year the kids and I visited my grandmother in the nursing home. Not quite warm and fuzzy, but important. It was my last major holiday with her before she died.

The next day I marched into an Apple store to replace my three-month-old computer because of a hot chocolate spill. I was feeling highly stressed about that and other personal matters that could not be fixed....and within moments was sobbing uncontrollably in front of the Apple sales guy.

Many of us have our own stories of unhappy holidays that didn't fulfill our expectations. Sometimes we dread the holidays because it forces us to interact with family members who don't understand us, or our choices. Or we watch nieces and nephews joyous and exuberant and cute, feeling a bit invisible because we don't yet have children of our own to celebrate with them. Or it becomes the occasion for younger sister to announce her engagement to Perfect Man. Or it simply becomes an exhausting time of shopping, wrapping and traveling with our little ones, putting Bah Humbug into our already stressful life.

Of course, some of us embrace the holidays as an opportunity to do service in the community, to show our older children about what it means to give.

And many of us LOVE the holidays, as a time to celebrate rituals with loved ones.

I'm writing today to tell you how, this year, I OWNED my Thanksgiving.

The kids and I had a few invitations to dinners. I considered hosting. My Mom -- warm and toasty with Dad and friends in Arizona -- had that "sorry" sound in her voice when she heard that we intended to stay home alone.

But what the kids and I did with our Thanksgiving is create our own ritual. We stayed in our pajamas all day. We each picked four things we wanted to do.

The list was not the usual TO DO list that usually takes over. It consisted of: craft (flying paper turkeys on a hanger), puzzle (Transformers), cooking (chicken with beer can up its butt, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, fancy bread), manicures and massage (yes, my son is still sporting his pink nails proudly), Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium (all three of us cuddled together on couch with hot chocolate and popcorn), disco party (to Hedwig!), and more.

We had a three-member-family extravaganza. And it was deliriously brilliant.

And there's more: that Apple sales guy? He was part of this year's ritual as well. The kids and I made a gift basket to celebrate my store breakdown. Because since then, his cousin has been responsible for helping me get the Choice Chat podcast running smoothly, and for producing my first CD for Choice Moms, about answering the "Do I Have a Dad?" question. His brother has become my tech consultant and resident handyman. And the sales guy himself has recently become my webcast developer, currently working with me on a Choice Moms DVD about "building your support network."

OWN your rituals. Take the REINS. DO what you can. LET GO of what you can't. BUILD your network.

There is much to give thanks for, when we keep moving forward to create our own meaningful short-term and long-term communities.

On reliability, support and independence

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 06:13:00 +0000

I recently returned from a second networking workshop for Choice Moms, which I conducted in the San Francisco Bay Area, following up a similar event in New York City last month.

Putting them back-to-back, what have I learned about the Choice Mom community?

Yes, we are strongly self-sufficient, intelligent, fun women. And yes, we derive a great deal of strength from being able to meet, connect, share. But there were surprises.

In New York City, the conversation circle about "grieving the dream" was bursting at the seams with participants (topic of our latest podcast). Single Mother by Choice founder Jane Mattes' talk about "Answering the Daddy Question" was wonderfully humorous and reassuring (now captured as part of a 50-minute CD available in the ChoiceMoms.org Products section). In the Bay Area, the small group talking about at-home insemination was insightful and warm. The large group interested in discussing "parenting over 40" had to be moved to a bigger space.

The group chat about Choice Mom survival tricks (which you'll hear soon on an upcoming podcast) focused in both cities on the importance of support networks, and being able to ask for help.

Two aspects of the Choice journey that I've benefited greatly from.

Before having my kids, I could do everything alone. This was a point of pride. Also a lack of faith in being able to trust others.

We need to be able to rely on other people. When there isn't anyone dependable around -- a true partner -- we can become bitter about it...defensive about it (I don't really need anyone anyway)...joke about being 'control freaks'...perhaps melt down every once in awhile...simply do the turtle shell retreat and build our life around no one else.

And then our kids arrive, and we can't possibly do it alone. First we need someone to watch the baby while we nap, or to cook a few dinners (see recent Becoming blog). Then we need a stranger to carry our stroller down a flight of stairs while we tote groceries and baby. Our baby gets sick and -- panicked and exhausted and unable to leave home -- we call on a neighbor to pick up medicine.

And they do.

And we are amazed. We are touched. We are grateful for the reminder that good people exist who will help us, if we let them, if we ask.

We get better at recognizing who adds to our life, rather than takes away. We re-prioritize who we want in our life. Slowly, as our exhaustion with a newborn and our distraction with a toddler gives way, we find ourselves with school-aged kids and we're open to getting involved -- involved! -- with school activities, church events, recreational pursuits, social life, ME time.

We look around and see how much stronger our lives are because of all the new people in it.

It's not easy to trust this will happen before you get there. In the Bay Area, on a gray day, not-yet-moms talked about fears of always being alone. New moms talked about being too fatigued to feel connected to anyone else. And with toddlers running free, making new friends, occasionally forcing moms to leap to their feet for intervention, there also emerged a great, bonding energy. The high that comes from recognizing that we aren't alone -- people with similar values are around us, rising to meet similar challenges, able and willing to offer insight that can help us take a new step if we need it.

We learn, through our kids, that what makes us strong is not our independence, but our interdependence.

We learn and grow, not simply from virtual connections online, but from real, live interactions when we can look someone in the eye and recognize something of ourselves there.

Emily wrote: "I just wanted to thank you for hosting a wonderful event last weekend. I really enjoyed connecting with real people after all these months of digital and written, relatively silent thinking and doing."

Fiona said: "What a supportive group of women you managed to bring together. I've never felt so sure of the decision I was making!"

Felicia reported: "I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to be surrounded by strong, funny, insightful like minded women. Especially for a group like us, who often don't feel we get the support we would like to have. You may have support from some friends and some family...but there is something almost sacred about being amongst others like ourselves, who truly get it. It feels very warm and safe."

As I write this, Garrison Keillor is on the headphones and these words slide out in his marvelously melodious voice: "It's November. Winter's coming. We need warmth. We need life. So we reach out for each other."

That's what being a mother helps us do, so much more consciously than we ever did when we were truly single.

Where should we reach out in 2009? I'm collecting input about which cities should host the next 2 or 3 Choice Mom networking events. Please vote here.

Living our one life with pride of ownership

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 02:45:00 +0000

Visiting minister Keith Kron told our Unitarian Universalist church a story a few weeks ago about The Possum. And it's still sticking with me.

The story was about this mysterious creature who took up residence upside down on the tree across from a cafe where magical things tended to happen. He hung there, bringing residents together in wonder, until a distant neighbor, living alone in grief after the death of his spouse, visited the cafe. The man's encounter with the possum helped him realize his next purpose in life: taking in stray animals on his lonely farm. The possum's work was done and he magically disappeared as unexpectedly as he had come.

Keith Kron also told his own personal story of finding new meaning in a magical way. As a gay teacher in a conservative area from a traditional religious family, he made a new connection and had a revelation: he was unhappily living four separate lives. He was keeping parts of his identity private, never wholly integrated. He shared certain stories with some people, other stories elsewhere. As a consequence, he never felt he was able to take full pride of ownership in who he was.

It takes a willingness to be vulnerable, to merge parts of your private life with your public life, in order to live fully open and wide to what the world does have to offer. It takes a measure of risk to be willing to let go of secret identities and multiple lives in order to intregrate and tell your one story.

His ultimate message is that in order to feel the magic of our purpose in life, we have to tell our stories without shame and live our one life.

When we are Thinkers on the Choice Mom journey, some of us are fearful of how others might react to the choices we are making. Some of us worry that we won't find acceptance from family and peers and colleagues. We sometimes grieve for what we don't have, and project that sense of loss onto the child who is not yet with us, wondering if they will be angry someday about growing up without a father. We might feel shame that in this one area of our life -- finding a life partner -- success has eluded us.

After we become Moms, I've noticed that we tend to realize that what others think of our choice no longer matters to us as much. WE know what motherhood offers us. The only opinion that matters is that of our child, and as they grow older -- generally happy and healthy -- we can breathe easier. We feel more free to tell our story proudly.

In the coming year, it is my goal to bring more of us together as a community so that our pride of ownership in Choice Motherhood can be shared by women who need to feel our strength.

As proactive, resourceful women, we have a lot to be happy about. We are creating new meaning in our lives, with rules that might not work for everyone, but that work for us and our children.

The energy of Thinkers and Moms who connected at the recent Choice Moms networking workshop in New York City was a great reminder for me that we need more opportunities to find magic and inspiration from each other.

I've got five cities in mind as destinations for these gatherings in 2009. But I'd like to hear from you. Where should we meet? Where should we hang up our possum and share our stories so that more of us can discover from each other what we need to learn in order to take the next logical steps in our individual journeys?

The daddy question

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Fri, 12 Sep 2008 05:26:00 +0000

In an upcoming Choice Chat podcast we'll have some excellent insight from experts about how to address the daddy question as our kids' questions become more sophisticated over time.

It's a frequent topic of conversation among Choice Moms.

Here's what some of them have been reporting:

Maya said her 3-year-old son looked at a male adult friend of theirs and called him daddy. She wondered how to respond.

Darla pointed out that it can be common for kids to get something into their head, but they usually self-correct over time. She said she herself was being called 'mom' by a friend's nearly 3-year-old daughter. "We've both tried correcting her but she just smiles and ignores us and continues to call me mom...I vaguely remember my son doing things like that when he was learning to speak. If you look at the way kids learn language, they take a rule that they've learned and try to apply it in other situations so sometimes they just get it wrong until they learn the correct rule. A mild correction, like "His name is so-and-so," should suffice until your son figures it out.

What about you? What situations have you encountered with your children, or your children's friends, and how did you handle it?

Having two

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Sun, 27 Jul 2008 00:41:00 +0000

Jennifer asks:

I am a Choice Mom to a wonderful 2.5 year old little boy. I am thinking about having a 2nd baby, hoping for a girl. My question for other Choice Moms is: If you have made the choice or thinking, what are the deciding factors in having the second baby? How do you get by? Always the money question!!! I have a wonderful family, just lost my Mom and number one fan in March. Grandpa and Uncle are semi hands on, but adding an infant to the mix is not a good thing. So many things to think about. What was the deciding factor that made you go for it?

Any insight will help.

Podcast: The Mr. Good Enough debate

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 16:05:00 +0000

When Lori Gottlieb wrote an article about the merits of settling for Mr. Good Enough (Atlantic Monthly, March 2008), it set off a firestorm of debate within the Choice Mom community and across the U.S. in general. We talk on the Choice Chat podcast (posted today) with Lori about the strong responses she's gotten from people on both sides of the discussion. We also talk openly with Choice Mom Lily about the sometimes shamed viewpoint even within our own community that single parenting can be incredibly rewarding but also can be a lonely path.

Catch up on the discussion by listening to the podcast, then post your comments here.

-- Mikki

using the "dad" term

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 21:35:00 +0000

One of several interesting and warm-hearted threads on the Choice Mom discussion board this week was started by a woman who mentioned that her child, not quite 3, was starting to refer to a male family friend as "dad." She wondered what to do about it.

She's been getting great advice from the Choice Mom community -- largely related to offering simple, non-fussy correction.

But it's a common stage for Choice Moms to start wondering, as our kids begin talking, about how much we should worry about what they are thinking and to what extent we need to do something about it....and what that step should be. We tend to be afraid that each moment is important enough to have a lasting effect. I remember being very concerned when my daughter started to take a huge interest in princess-and-prince stories when she was 3/4 that it was a reflection on her need for a father....

It took awhile before I discovered that roughly 98 percent of girls that age love princess-and-prince stories.

Now that I have a little hindsight -- my daughter is 9 -- I can reflect better on another stage she had. Once upon a time she used to say she had 3 daddies -- her donor dad, my ex-husband (who we're close with but who I divorced 6 years before she was born), and, after I married a second time, her stepdad.

Now that she's 9 and knows what the term "dad" really means, she doesn't use that for any of them. She simply calls them by their first names.

I think it's fine for kids to play around with the terminology, as long as you very simply let them know it's not real. In my case, I used to tell my daughter only, "wow, you're lucky to have THREE dads." And within a few months she was past that stage.

When I was about 7, I knew about the brother I had who died at birth before I was born. Somehow this took on great meaning for me -- I longed for a big brother at that time, since I was having some issues I was afraid to tell my parents about. It was around the time of the Vietnam War, and I started telling classmates that I had a brother in the war...and eventually that he died there.

I grew out of this stage about a year later (and my parents didn't know about it, so they never corrected me). To this day, I do recognize in me, in times of greater emotional stress, that longing for a big brother to put his arm around me and say everything will be all right.

Sometimes our kids will long for a dad...or a sibling...or a dog...or a Wii. Longing is okay, especially if they feel comfortable letting us know about it in subtle or not-so-subtle ways. And I don't think, when we look at it in the long run, that it is something for us to feel guilty about. Unless we tell them not to long for anything.

-- Mikki

Finding Community 2

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 18:13:00 +0000

Have had a really great week of finding the wonderful things about life and community, and thought I'd share some of it -- may be useful to be able to remember. It is an election year here in the U.S., after all, which sometimes seems to bring out the worst in people.

This week started when a bunch of involved parents came over to spend a Saturday morning sorting bottle tops and Betty Crocker labels to earn money for the school.

A few days later I saw the great Eddie Izzard (U.K. comedian), who uses his wonderfully intelligent platform about religion, ancient civilizations, and evolution to point out our responsibility to lift up our communities.

Another set of parents came over to discuss how to advocate on behalf of our school district for much needed funding, especially for our English-as-a-second-language programs.

A wonderful young man who recently fell into my path offered more than 10 hours of his time to help me improve my Choice Chat podcast.

I helped chaperone a busload of third graders on a 10-hour field trip. Many of these kids were overjoyed to see dairy cows in the fields enroute, and giant rainbows in the sky on the way back. A friend of one of the teachers took the day off work to grill hot dogs and burgers, ready upon our arrival, after 2.5 hours of driving, at a picnic place.

Finally, today, I attended my favorite Unitarian Universalist tradition at my church -- the one that led me to join in the first place -- when a few of the 9th graders performed their Coming of Age spiritual statements in front of the congregation. It always brings a tear to my eye to see how amazingly mature these 15-year-olds can be, thanks in part to the great parenting and the church community that surrounds them.

There was the entertaining young man who created a film to show his belief in nature, energy, music and technology. The remarkably poised young woman I had the privilege to mentor who believes in the magic of a long run, of seeing light shine through the leaves, and of the piece of music she played for us on the piano (The Girl with the Flaxen Hair"). The quirky Molly Ringwald-like (ala Pretty in Pink) young woman, who had such eloquent points to make that I'm also writing about her in the "Thinking" blog. And another young man I taught two years ago at this church who has already surpassed my expectations of what a thoughtful, talented person he will become.

There are so many good spirits out there. Weeks like this I am profoundly reminded how great is the source of community connection when we find the right place to be -- for ourselves, for our children. Keep attuned to new experiences and new people and we'll find the Good Ones who add so much without even trying.

-- Mikki

Dealing with big "ouches"

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Tue, 13 May 2008 11:13:00 +0000

from Mikki

The Choice Mom discussion board this week has been discussing another juicy topic: coping with our children's emotional pain, which was launched by a post about biracial children (more on that in another blog). It coincided with an interview I had with someone this week about how Choice Moms celebrate Father's Day. And my own concern that I have to fly out the day of my daughter's birthday in a few days so that I can do an interview on the PBS all-female news show "To the Contrary."

These three things have in common the syndrome of "Mama pain."

Not to discount the emotional pain our kids do go through, but sometimes we forget to recognize the prism we look through as Mothers who love our children more than anything else. We don't want them to ever feel lonely, or hurt, or lost, or left out, or frozen with fear.

Of course, sometimes they will. As Mom, it's excruciating.

On the front end, before we're mothers, we worry about whether we'll pass our home study, which donor sounds right in the audiotape, which doctor to use. Some of the enlightened who have the option these days plan further ahead, looking for open-identity donors or open birth placement for our as-yet-unknown-children, to help them avoid psychic pain they might otherwise have about their identity.

When they are babies and toddlers, we worry about them falling down, putting things in their mouth that shouldn't be there, the earache that keeps them up at night. And we do our best to deal with their emotional issues: the kid who took the toy away, the fact that mom wants to drag them away from the playground, fear of the dark.

As our kids mature, they struggle with things that are much more emotional and serious...and difficult for Mom to know how to talk through. Why a best friend isn't a friend anymore. The death of a classmate, or grandparent, or dog. What they have in common with an anonymous donor. Why a birth parent placed them for adoption. Achievement anxiety. Not getting picked for a sports team. Being bullied. Being teased. Being left out. Not looking the same as his/her parent, or most of his/her classmates. Not having a father. Having a lesbian parent. Not having as much money as other families at school, and feeling shame. Recognizing that an uncle is an alcoholic, and not understanding it.

The most difficult thing for Mom is to see them struggling -- and know you cannot fix it or make it go away. We can "only" talk with them.

With that talking comes the difficult task of figuring out what it is that actually bothers them. Not clouded by the prism of what does or does not bother Mom.

I was racked with guilt and sorrow at the thought of leaving my daughter behind on her birthday so I could fly somewhere for an interview. I asked her if she wanted to fly with me. She said not if it would cost me money. She also doesn't like the idea of being away from school on her birthday, when friends can acknowledge it with her. Ouch. She's turning nine, and that transition to the importance of friends, compared to family, is right around the corner.

She said she will be sad if I cannot be with her that night after school to celebrate her birthday, but I know she will live with it better than I will. I still vividly remember our first night together on the day she was born. Wanting to look at her all night, and be with her every moment, even though I was exhausted. To her, it is much more about an excuse to have a party.

I think Father's Day is another occasion that might bother some of us, as Moms, more than our kids. It also might bother some of our kids more than it does us. Another important distinction to come into focus in the Mom prism.

A group of Choice Moms I know take their kids camping Father's Day weekend, just to have something special to do. Others honor grandfathers and uncles. Some plan to create reunions with half-siblings, to commemorate their link to the unknown anonymous donor they share. One woman suggests volunteering with the kids at a soup kitchen that day, so they can learn as a family to respect what they have, rather than what they do not.

An interesting idea one Choice-Mom-in-the-making learned from another single parent is to celebrate with a son the Father that he might become someday: collecting stories and mementoes and advice about the Man-in-the-making. It will naturally reflect the mother's hopes at first, but gradually transition into the boy's own aspirations.

I love this idea in many ways. How many of us actually take the time to discuss with our kids the kind of parent and adult they might someday be?

For our daughters on Father's Day, an extension of the idea might be to ponder together the kind of person we hope to share the awesome responsibility of parenting with someday. Recognition of values to find in a true partner. Encouragement that pursuing that partner is good, even if Mom has found the pursuit elusive, or is doing well alone.

Then Mom's role is to step back, year by year, and let our child fill in the picture on an annual basis of what kind of relationships they want to have in their life -- what values are important to them. Parenting in a nutshell.

We cannot make their ouches go away. Or even predict what they will be. We can only know that there will be things that trouble them. And that they will, for the most part, have to get through them in their own way.

What we can offer them is a great deal of conversation in order to give them the tools, before we send them on their 80 percent merry way.

What do you think? What emotional pain do you worry about with your children? How do you plan to spend Father's Day as a single mom?

Finding community

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 15:20:00 +0000

In recent weeks I've been reminded deeply of the very strong power that community can provide, and wanted to use the emotions of the moment to reiterate to Choice Moms the value of extending your networks as head of a household.

My mother's father died when she was 9, and her brother was 6. My grandmother was a pretty woman who had no particular ambitions other than to raise her family, but she sent her kids to relatives for a year, went through cosmetology school in the big city, and opened up her own beauty shop in their small hometown until after her kids were grown. She had loyal customers, who undoubtedly also understood how hard she was working to keep things together for her kids. She purposely decided not to remarry until her kids were grown.

More than 60 years later, earlier this year, my mom's 6-foot-1 brother had a dizzy spell, fell in his bathroom, broke his neck, and became a quadriplegic. He spent a month in ICU, fighting off pneumonia and other things, before being moved elsewhere for therapy. The medical bills are, of course, huge, and he is not a wealthy man.

Former neighbors helped the three kids launch a spaghetti dinner and $1-per-ticket raffle fundraiser. Dozens of people offered wonderful donations for the raffle, including new iPods and digital camera. An estimated 300 people showed up on a Saturday afternoon to buy a $10 plate of spaghetti (one man paid $200 for his), with the food and hall donated by two of my uncle's American Legion buddies. In all, the afternoon raised $11,000.

My uncle is not a "special" man. He has always been a loyal dad, who tried to make ends meet in simple ways. He loves to talk, enjoyed his time at the American Legion, and continued to work past retirement age, ironically, driving disabled people in a van. He tried to visit his mother every Sunday in the nursing home.

My uncle was vaulted into a special place in his community once he and his family needed support. Attendees at the fundraiser included a grizzled man from the Legion who said he missed seeing my uncle at the bar, a woman who had met him briefly in conversation shortly before his fall and marveled at how open and friendly he was, the grandson of a long-time friend, members of their church, and so many more.

Finding community, who will freely offer support when we need it, can be found in the simplest of ways. But we have to be out of the house, often apart from our parental role, in order to be found and to find.

Some of that same extended network was at work a few weeks later for the family, when my 96-year-old grandmother died. Although all of her many cousins, her four sisters, and all but one of her friends had died, it was the next generation that stood together for the family at the burial site in her hometown, decades after she and my mother (and my uncle) had left. My grandmother had maintained contact with families that my mother had barely known when she was growing up. And it was those families that stood with her at the cemetery to help her say goodbye.

As I wrote in the "Choosing Single Motherhood" book several years ago, I had become isolated in my professional life in New York City. It's not until I shook off the work cloak a bit after my daughter was born that I reprioritized, relocated, and reinvested in a community life that now includes the Unitarian Universalist church, school parents, Choice Moms, old high school friends, and even new families.

I still have a long way to go to feel as secure in my community as I'd like -- to feel reassured that if something even closer to home happened, my kids would have the support and connections they need. But it's something I will always keep my eyes open for, especially now that I've been reminded of how vital it is to be surprised and touched by the kindness of others.

Mikki