Motherhood Later...Than Sooner Blog - for those who became a mom at age 35+

Do I Want to Be a Grandmother at 50? by Cara

2009-11-11T03:00:00.000-08:00

Every once in a while I go on to Facebook to catch up with the happenings of friends near and far. Invariably, I get one of those silly quizzes that pop up. What kind of dog are you? What does your name mean in Japanese? Just as invariably I take a quiz or two if I have the inclination and the time. I found out, incidentally, that my name in Japanese means, “Love Child.” Well, okay, whatever. At least it doesn’t mean, “Burning Sword.”

In any event, I received a quiz from a newly aquatinted friend titled,”Questions About Me.” It was a rather lengthy questionnaire, but after reading the questions and responses my friend had put down, I decided to take the time to answer the questions myself and pass the quiz back to her.

Many of the questions were rather benign, however I almost choked when I read one of the questions two-thirds into the questionnaire. “Would you like to be a grandparent at age 50?” AGE 50??!! I’m 46!! My son is 6!! That would mean that my son would have to impregnate some girl at age 10!!!! NO, I don’t want to be a grandparent at age 50!!! But this got me to thinking. When WOULD I want to be a grandparent?

If I had my son at age 40, and statistics and trends are pointing to later in life marriages and births, what age will I reasonably be a grandmother? I have every hope that my son will attend college. And I would be even more grateful should he decide to go to graduate school or go on to get a professional degree. Would he marry at 25? 30? 35?

My father was an “older” parent and had the joy of seeing my son born at age 86. He had three beautiful years watching my son through his baby and toddler years. And for some unknown reason, even though my father was severely hard of hearing, it didn’t matter one lick to my son nor to my father that they didn’t understand one another. They communicated in a higher form called love.

I think my father and my son had a bond that has continued to transcend his demise. And my son continues to reflect on him with fondness and yearnings of love. I would hope that my son might choose to have children at a slightly younger age than me. It would give me great pleasure to see my grandchildren grow for at least a decade! I could do a lot of “spoiling” in a decade!! (And, yes, I know that only food gets spoiled...but you get my drift!)

But, if my son has a child or children later in his life, as I did, perhaps I, too, could capture a bond of love that would transcend the corporeal. That would make me immensely happy too. Side by side with my grandchild, bringing me a leaf or a stone found on the ground and presented as a gift. Through love that is boundless. Sometime the innocence of the young and the old, brought together, can mean more than spending years trying to establish a relationship with a relative you have a difficult time getting along with.

Well, I have a “few” more years before I need to worry about becoming a grandparent. And incidentally, anyone who draws up a questionnaire with a question such as this, must be, oh, say, 20?

Patience is a Vrtue...When Parenting or Dating -- by Jamie

2009-11-09T03:00:00.000-08:00

Before I became a single mother by choice, I was a highly-experienced serial dater with very specific intentions. No matter how I’d first “encountered” my potential suitor—be it in-person, or online—I always pushed for our first date to occur ASAP. Even if I’d clearly felt a connection with a guy after speaking to him in line at Starbucks, or as a result of the emails he’d sent me on JDate, I kept to my agenda: we needed to have a phone conversation quickly after our initial contact, and we had to meet in person as soon as our calendars were clear. My reasoning came from experience: I’d often gotten excited about a guy just from his flirtatious emails, or from a brief but memorable encounter that I’d replayed over and over in my mind, only to discover that we had no chemistry when we finally went out on a date. So, rather than build up my anticipation for a date that could, ultimately, disappoint me, I eagerly sought a face-to-face meeting as quickly as possible, to really gauge a guy’s potential.

This technique worked well for me when I was single, and on a quest to find Mr. Right. I had the flexibility to be spontaneous and have a date on the fly, as well as plenty of spare time for a very social social life. With nothing better to concentrate on (aside from work and working out!), I focused on fast-tracking my dating. After a good date, I’d often find myself obsessively waiting for the man to call or email me. It was hopeless for me to divert my attention, or to just be patient, while my all-consuming desire to be in a relationship took over. Even when I was getting attention from a guy, and he seemed interested in going out on more dates, it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t stay “in the moment,” and just enjoy dating for what it was…I kept wondering where things were leading, and if we’d have a future together. Before I decided to have a baby on my own, I was always hoping to get to the point where my life was entrenched with Mr. Right’s, and, ultimately, I never got there.

As a mom, it’s easy to get impatient with my daughter. Toddlers find wonder in the smallest things, and I often find Jayda dawdling to pick up a rock while we’re walking to the car, or stopping and staring at the people in a crowd we’re trying to push our way through. In addition, Jayda is now at the age where she constantly insists, “I do it myself!” which can sometimes mean that a simple task will take three times as long to achieve. When we’re in a rush, it’s hard for me to relax and just let Jayda be Jayda, and take her time. But as we both get older, I’m becoming more successful at it. I’m learning to be patient. I’m learning to be ok with letting things evolve on their own (or on Jayda’s own!). It’s a good lesson for dating, too.

A few weeks ago, Jayda and I went to a fair in a neighboring town. It was a beautiful day, and Jayda enjoyed her pay-one-price wristband by hopping on ride after ride after ride. At one point, while I watched Jayda circle around endlessly on a motorized car next to a slightly-older girl, the man beside me began chatting with me about our children. By the time the ride had ended, I’d discovered that he was a single father, and was raising his daughter on his own. We wound up walking around the fair together, with our girls, for quite some time, and it was clear to both of us that we’d made a connection. When it was time for us to leave, we exchanged business cards, and promised to talk again. And we have…through a flurry of emails—lengthy ones, written when our kids are asleep, or in daycare. Slowly, but surely, we’re getting to know each other. We’ve discussed meeting for lunch—but we both can’t seem to find the time to do so in the near-future. And so, we continue to write, and continue to “hope” to talk on the phone soon (there never seems to be time for that, either), and nothing more. And you know what? It’s enough. Because, as a single mom, my life is quite full, and while I’d love some male companionship, I don’t “need” to find Mr. Right right now. I’m not even in a hurry to find out if this man has the potential to be my Mr. Right. He’s kind. He’s funny. And I anticipate his emails…but I don’t obsess over them. I have some patience now. And it makes being a mom—and a dater—much easier.

Chilling 'n Clearing -- by Robin

2009-11-05T16:48:00.000-08:00

I have never been a napper. My dad does it. A friend of mine swears by it. But, it's not my thing.

I'm not particularly good at relaxing. Never have been.

But, the other day, I spontaneously gave into my desire to chill.

I put on the television one late afternoon and watched a movie on cable. I laid on the living room couch with a bottle of water, and gave myself permission just to watch in the dark. It was peaceful, spontaneous, and I loved it.

Back in my single days, I'd often spend part of a Saturday practicing self care. Hitting the gym. Doing my nails. Reading the paper. Watching a good movie.

Since becoming a mom, weekends are no longer my own. So, if it's alone time I seek, a weekday when Seth is in school is it. But, how to give yourself permission to take a break from work (I work from home) and other chores and errands? And, if you do give yourself a breather, how to do it without the guilt? What's the point if you can't totally relish it without thoughts racing through your head of what you could or should be doing instead?!

Sometimes I think about the different phases of life and how much things change. Life doesn't stand still for anyone, especially a multi-tasking mom. Just look at how fast our kids grow up. My son is 6.5 already.

I was at my evening acting class Wednesday night, and when I came home, my husband told me that Seth (at bedtime), told him to promise to tell me that he loves and missed me (since I wasn't there to tuck him in). I was SO touched that I wanted to give him a big hug immediately, but he was sleeping. I know the day will come as he gets older when he'll need me less and less, so I treasure comments like that. Yet, at the same time, I was grateful for the time away at my class that I am enjoying.

Motherhood can be such a conflict at times, can't it?! We are truly challenged to do so much in a given day....yet we (I) fight to hold on to personal and professional aspirations despite the many demands of life.

The key is to find happiness in the everyday and not let your to do list overwhelm. I have felt quite overwhelmed due to our basement project and all that has come with it in terms of organizing the house, purging, donating, etc. Tomorrow my cleaning woman comes to help with some of it. I thought it would be beneficial to bring her in since she does not have the emotional attachment I have to things. And, she'll help move us along in her chipper way. She loves to clear and get things in order. I love the end result, but truly despise the process. When things are out of order and feeling really cluttered, the negative energy permeates the house and my mind, and it's easy to feel stifled. A major clearing is in order here, and we'll get there day by day. I have to muster the patience and keep the faith to know it will happen.

Tonite I am attending a workshop in NYC about how to live more simply. I'm curious to see what tips they have to offer. For me, I feel like it's easier said than done, but I'd like to learn and at least make an attempt at it.

I won't be home to read Seth a bedtime story or lay with him. I will miss that. But, if this class can shed constructive light in a way I can apply to my/our lives, Seth will ultimately be glad I attended. And Marc too. We'll all reap the benefits.

The Disillusionment of Halloween -- by Cara

2009-11-04T03:00:00.000-08:00

I really love this time of year! I love the changing colors of the leaves; I love the small piles of colorful foliage gathered on the side of the road; I love picking special leaves of different shapes and colors to make Fall crafts with my son. I also love seeing houses dressed up with mums and pumpkins on their walkways or steps. And I love all of this the best on a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day so that you can see the bold colors of Fall against the azure blue of a cloudless sky! Nature in all it’s splendor before the cold, dark winter settles in.

My son loves this time for a different reason, he loves running in the fallen leaves and the collecting of some pretty ones to make a craft project or two. But he especially loves this time of year because of Halloween! He has cartoon Halloween DVDs which we watch together each year. We savor the Halloween television programs that aren’t too scary! I decorate his room with Halloween sheets and ghost throw pillows. Then we make Halloween crafts to decorate his room some more. And we always have to count down the days until Halloween arrives!

Well, today is Halloween. And my son had a splendid day meeting up with friends to go Trick-or-Treating! He met more friends from school along the way! At one point, he was tired and hungry, so my husband offered to take him out to get a meal while I went food shopping.

For many years now, I have put out a stand and a container of candy with a cute note welcoming the Trick-or-Treaters, kindly requesting that they leave some candy for those who come after them. Knowing that Halloween would be falling on a Saturday this year, we stocked up on six giant, Costco-size bags of candy! Three were more expensive bags of candy and three were less expensive, mixed candies. I got in the habit of putting bowls of candy outside because when my son was younger, if he was taking a nap, I didn’t want the doorbell to ring and have the dogs bark, waking up my son. As my son became older, I would still put out candy because we would be out ourselves Trick-or-Treating and visiting with relatives to show off our little goblin in his costume!

Then, a few years ago, I noticed that I would fill up, what used to be, a white wicker basket, lined with a Halloween theme bandana, and place it outside on the stand at night, only to have the doorbell ring twenty minutes later by a sweet teen Hannah Montana noting that there wasn’t any candy left in the basket. So I gave her a generous amount and refilled the basket again with the last of the candy, only to find that again, twenty minutes later, the doorbell would ring again, and the basket was empty. I had to kindly explain that we ran out of candy but once the tweens left, I remembered that I had a couple boxes of granola bars in the cabinet, so I put those out to have at least something for the kids. Well, thirty minutes later, at about 9 PM, I went to check on the basket and found that some angry kid(s), who were not happy with the granola bars, had flung the basket, granola bars, and bandana into the street! The basket was on the side of the road, along with the bandana, but many of the granola bars had been run over by cars. I picked everything up and declared Halloween over for the night.

The next year, again, when we ran out of candy at around 9 PM, my basket, bandana and stand were all thrown onto our front lawn. Last year some kids actually stole the white basket, bandana and all the candy that was left! At least they left the stand!

This year, the night Trick-or-Treaters crossed the line. I used a fifty-cent Halloween bowl I bought from Target to fill with candy. I put the more expensive candy out during the day when I knew younger children, who came with their parents, would be coming. I saved the less expensive candy for the night Trick-or-Treaters who usually emptied much of the bowl of candy into their bags. I ended up running out of six Costco-size bags of candy at around 6 PM! I had to put a sign on the door stating that we literally ran out of candy. A couple hours later, I went out to turn off the tea lights in the pumpkin my son and his Grandfather lovingly carved together and found it smashed to bits! I am hurt, I am angry and I am disillusioned. There was no reason to destroy something because others were not considerate. Next year, Halloween ends at sundown. Lights out. Treasured items will be out of sight. That is it. Halloween will be over.

Playground Pick Up -- by Jamie

2009-11-02T03:00:00.000-08:00

It’s a shame I can’t bring my daughter with me to a singles bar—she’s really great at breaking the ice with everyone around us. Sometimes, she’ll just stare at strangers with her big, blue eyes, and get their attention—as well as welcoming smiles. Other times, our conversation will attract someone’s interest. Jayda’s becoming a real chatterbox—and an inquisitive one, at that—and the comments and questions she peppers me with often amuse people who are within hearing range. She’s been obsessed lately with the concept of “buying things,” and actually asked me very loudly the other day, “Mommy, who bought my tushie?” That certainly got a reaction out of passersby! Jayda’s also, simply, a very attractive child, who constantly garners compliments from strangers about her beautiful curls and “Shirley Temple” look. Regardless, when we’re out and about, she always gets attention. And I, in turn, get some, too. Especially at the playground.

During the week, weather permitting, I pick Jayda up from her daycare, and we head out to a nearby elementary school’s playground; it’s close to our house and very age-appropriate. Over time, Jayda has “collected” a group of friends and admirers who frequent the playground, too—and who help keep both of us entertained. When the school’s after-hours program emerges on the playground in the late afternoon, there are two teacher’s aides whom Jayda approaches enthusiastically: One is a middle-aged woman who always hugs Jayda and chats with her about her day, and another is a woman in her late-20s who gives Jayda animal crackers and whom my daughter follows around like a puppy. Many of the kids in this program know Jayda, too, and wave and smile at her in welcome.

There are also a few nannies who frequent the playground with their charges. Jayda knows each of them by name—and often gets treats from them all. Then, there are the newcomers: Mothers whom we’ve never seen before, but who encourage their children to play with Jayda, and who chat with me while our kids swing next to each other, and run around. I enjoy the camaraderie and grown up conversations, and time passes quickly for me, while Jayda plays happily.

Best of all, there are the daddies…but since most “eligible” men are working in the late afternoon, they are few and far between. Once in awhile, however, Jayda will find a man to bat her eyelashes at, and I will have a conversation with him as a result. It would be nice if Jayda would learn to look at men’s ring fingers first, though, since she rarely “introduces” me to a single man!

Lately, I’ve found myself in a completely new situation—spending time with an unattractive, but incredibly friendly (in a non-flirtatious way) married man, whose adorable, incredibly-well-mannered son has befriended Jayda. They look for us every afternoon—sometimes bringing snacks or toys to share with Jayda. I truly adore the boy—but don’t have much to say to his father; most of the time, we just share anecdotes about our kids. However, he just invited us to play at his house one day this week, and I accepted his invitation because Jayda reacted so enthusiastically to it. I trust the guy…and know Jayda will have an amazing time playing in his home. I’m just not all that eager to socialize with him. And isn’t that what play dates are for—fun for Jayda, and good conversation and company for me?! Well, I’ve been through plenty of bad dates in the past, and I’ve always made it through unscathed. I’ve also made plenty of sacrifices for my daughter, before. So, once again, I’ll do what’s good for Jayda—make our plans, prepare for the worst, and hope that I’ll be pleasantly surprised. Stay tuned…

A Family Weekend Away -- by Robin

2009-10-30T03:00:00.000-07:00

My family just returned from Willow Valley Resort & Conference Center (http://www.willowvalley.com/) for a three night stay this past weekend, and we had a lovely time. We had stayed there previously when we visited Hershey, but this time we took in other attractions, both at Willow Valley itself and beyond.

To quote my six year old son, the indoor water park at Willow Valley is "awesome." It stays open late, and we were there one night after dinner from 9 - 10PM, and Seth didn't want to leave. Who could blame him?! Whether sliding through the mouth of the huge grinning frog or going down the huge, winding slide, he loved it.

Sunday morning, we visited the farm at Willow Valley, and both Seth and I fell in love with the cutest five month old pot belly pig named Pansy. Anyone who knows me, knows I've been a collector of pig items for years, and my son has grown to love them as well. But, it's not too often that we get to pet a real life, adorable, baby pig. We didn't want to leave the barnyard. And, the staff was very warm 'n friendly, as they introduced us to the array of animals and gave us the opportunity to personally spend time with them.

Outside of Willow Valley, in neighboring towns, there is much to do in the area that is kid friendly...and fun for adults too.

We paid a visit to and took a ride on the Strasburg Rail Road. Located in Strasburg, PA, the Strasburg Rail Road holds the unique distinction as America’s oldest short line railroad. A real working railroad, it's known for its picturesque ride through the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch Country. The 45-minute narrated train ride departs daily from Strasburg station. Guests board a restored Victorian wooden passenger car pulled by a steam locomotive on a journey through the beautiful Amish countryside to Paradise, Pa. and back. http://www.strasburgrailroad.com/. It was a lot of fun, and I was grateful for the opportunity to rest my feet for a bit from all the walking we were doing.

While waiting for our Rail Road ride, we took in a visit to the Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania across the road. It is quite a spectacle with amazing history. http://www.rrmuseumpa.org/. At the museum, you'll learn about the heritage and technology of railroading. You can board some of the trains, and take a step back in time as you envision what it might have been like to travel during a different era. They have lots of special events that make it a worthwhile year round destination.

Another of our stops was the Toy Train Museum in Lancaster. http://www.nttmuseum.org/. It features hundreds of toy trains in a modern museum built like a historic train station. My son was like a kid in a candy store here. He didn't know where to look first, as he ran back in forth pushng various buttons and switches to make things go and light up . Very cool place, as he would put it!

Downtown Lancaster offers a bunch of good shopping opportunities...whether clothing, gift items, toys or pieces of art. While my husband wasn't thrilled I did some spending "damage," I was pleased with my unexpected purchases. There's also a wide array of dining options, whether ethnic or casual American.

While we didn't get to Choo Choo Barn -- Traintown U.S.A.®, this trip, we have in the past, and kids enjoy it. Also located in Strasburg, it features more than 1,700 square feet of model train displays with more than 150 hand-built animated figures & vehicles, and 22 operating trains. http://www.choochoobarn.com/.

We took a short drive to the charming town of Lititz, PA. We had never gone there before. The main drag featured quaint country shops, antiques, clothing and more. And, we went to the Wilbur Chocolate Candy Americana Museum/Factory Store, and bought Seth a box of dark chocolate mint marshmallows (which of course I had to sample). Really good! Admission was free, and they ship. http://www.wilburbuds.com/.

We took in a guided tour of the historical Julius Sturgis Pretzel Bakery. Established in 1861, you get a hands-on lesson in pretzel twisting and learn about the art/evolution of pretzel baking, including free samples. http://www.juliussturgis.com/. We are now all certified pretzel twisters (yes....they give you a certificate)!

My son also had a blast at Dutch Wonderland Family Amusement Park in Lancaster. "A Kingdom for Kids," it features rides, entertainment, etc., complete with Halloween decorations (for now), and kids parading about in their costumes. http://www.dutchwonderland.com/. If you have young children, this is the perfect theme park for them.

We dined one evening at Hershey Farm Restaurant & Inn in Ronks, right near Strasburg. http://www.hersheyfarm.com/ You can order off the menu or sample their various offerings on the smorgasboard, which is what we did. It was a good way to experience PA Dutch recipes ranging from BBQ chicken to chicken pot pie to ham balls to pecan pie. It was time to hit the gym at Willow Valley after this meal.

PS: Many thanks to Willow Valley and some of the various attractions for hosting our visits. For general information on the area, visit http://www.padutchcountry.com/.

PPS: We look forward to returning one day, and enjoyed spending time with the other families from MotherhoodLater.com and beyond who joined us. This was the first group getaway we planned, and if you were unable to attend, we hope you'll vacation with us in the future, whether here or another destination. Be sure to sign up for our monthly email newsletter to hear of our activities. Visit http://www.motherhoodlater.com/.

Is Yelling the New Spanking? by Cara

2009-10-28T03:00:00.000-07:00

I was forwarded an article by a friend this week, written by a New York Times columnist about whether American parents believe yelling at their children is considered what spanking used to be back in the 50s, 60, and to a certain degree, the 70s.

The article shouted practically a unanimous, “yes,” with evidence backed up by child psychology researchers and interviews with parents. Most of the evidence indicated that the same parents who would “never” spank their children, use yelling as a means to get their point across instead. In fact, one blogger admitted on her blog, “I am a screamer. I’m a Mom that screams, shouts and loses it in front of my kids and feel like I’m revealing a dark family secret.”

This may not be so far from the truth. My own parents never spanked me. However my father used to bellow so loudly at me at the smallest of infractions, it almost felt like a spanking. In fact, a spanking might have hurt less at times.

I personally have never spanked my son and have yelled at him only once (not including screaming for him to wait at a corner until I get there so as not to get run over). Every other time, I give myself a time out. I go to another room, lock the door, put earplugs in and listen to calming music for 5 minutes. I’ve been known to put my toddler in a playpen and walk around the house a few times. And on a couple rare instances, I handed my husband the baby, grabbed my car keys and my wallet and drove around the neighborhood for 30 minutes or so.

So what are these experts and researchers trying to tell us? And what really is a frustrated, ready to blow parent supposed to do? According to the New York Times article, both psychologists and psychiatrists generally say yelling should be avoided. At best, it is ineffective (the more you do it, the more the child tunes you out) and at worse, it can be damaging to a child’s sense of well-being and self-esteem. As one researcher put it, “If someone yelled at you at work, you’d find that pretty jarring.” Furthermore, if the tone of the yelling denotes anger, insult, or sarcasm, a child can perceive it as parental rejection.

The bottom line message through this article is: Don’t yell. Easier said than done. But there are strategies to prevent situations from escalating into the “Yell-o-sphere.” One strategy, as I’ve mentioned and used is to give yourself the time-out. Go into another room and scream into a pillow if need be! Be proactive, let young ones know that a transition will be coming soon and repeat it in intervals. Make sure the school age child has the backpack filled the night before. Tell your young ones that going into a store is where the parent makes the purchases, not the child. I personally go shopping while my son is in school. If I were not able to do that, I would forgo sleep and do grocery shopping at 10:00 pm. But that’s just me!

The experts suggest figuring out your own ways to prevent situations that make you most prone to yell. And take a deep breath before the words come out. There, unfortunately, will always be those moments where you just don’t know how to handle certain situations. You’ll blow, but an apology is usually recommended. And you can always do what I do if I know my husband is in a bad mood and may explode. I’ll say to my son, “Honey, just don’t make Daddy mad.” My son knows EXACTLY what that means! Then we BOTH stay away!

Just Plan on Being Stressed Out! by Jamie

2009-10-26T03:00:00.000-07:00

I’ve always been a “planner.” Before I picked up and moved to Alaska the summer after I graduated college, I subscribed to the Anchorage Daily News for a month, scouted out places to live and jobs to pursue, and even introduced myself to a few eligible Alaskan men.

All of my subsequent adventure travel trips were well-plotted out, too. Before I took off around the globe, I did tons of research, mapped out my destinations in each country, made lists of things I needed to take care of—and pack—weeks before I departed, and left nothing to chance.

My foray into single motherhood was highly planned as well, and when I successfully became pregnant, I had 40 weeks to ready myself for being a mom. I moved my life and my belongings from NYC to Long Island, read dozens of “what to expect” books, organized my room and my baby’s, lined up a daycare facility, prepared my co-workers for my maternity leave, and did everything a person can possibly do to “be ready” for motherhood.

But can you ever really prepare to be a parent? And what happens when the stability you think you’ve created in your life unexpectedly falls apart? What if your job of a decade is eliminated, and the money you’ve counted on, and the career you’ve focused on for over fifteen years, suddenly go kaput?

Lately, I’ve been discovering that planning out my future isn’t always possible—or even helpful. But instead of turning me into a more carefree person, this conclusion has simply made me a more panicked one. How can a head-of-the-household structure her life—and her expenses—on a project-by-project basis? How can she select her daughter’s nursery school for fall 2010 without knowing her own work schedule? And, most disconcerting of all, how can she potentially embark on a graduate school degree without knowing how much freelance work she’ll be able to take on, and how quickly she’ll deplete her savings account while securing a degree? Planning really isn’t possible for most of the long-term questions I’m pondering now, and it’s probably why I’ve been suffering from countless migraines and dizzy spells (which my neurologist is convinced aren’t “serious,” thankfully).

As a mom, there is, of course, plenty of joy in spontaneity. I’ve been known to let Jayda splash around in mud puddles and ruin her outfit because it just seemed silly to have her miss the chance to enjoy a rainstorm. I’ve taken Jayda to the ice cream store and let her eat frozen yogurt with rainbow sprinkles for dinner just because she did something that deserved a treat and I wanted her to know it. I’ve also suddenly stripped off my clothes and joined Jayda in her evening bath because she was having so much fun splashing around, and I knew she wanted me to play with her, too.

But those unplanned events weren’t very important in the grand scheme of things. Their outcomes didn’t affect our entire lifestyles, and I never gave a second thought to any of them. Alternately, life’s major decisions should be well-planned out—at least for a planner like me. But maybe the best I can do for us right now is plan how I’m going to cope with having no plan. It might not be ideal, but it will make this chaotic, not-so-predictable life of ours a bit more enjoyable!

Guest Blog Post: Review of MOTHERHOOD the Movie -- by PTA Mom

2009-10-25T03:00:00.000-07:00

Synopsis: Eliza Welch (Uma Thurman) is a former fiction writer-turned-mom-blogger with her own site, “The Bjorn Identity.” Eliza lives and works in two rent-stabilized apartments in a walk-up tenement building smack in the middle of an otherwise upscale Greenwich Village. Starting at dawn, her to-do list is daunting: prepare for and throw her daughter’s 6th birthday party, mind her toddler son, battle for a parking space during an epic alternate side parking showdown, navigate playground politics with overbearing moms, and mend a rift after posting her best friend’s confession on her blog. On top of it all, Eliza decides to enter a contest run by an upscale parenting magazine. All she has to do is write 500 words answering the deceptively simple question, “What Does Motherhood Mean to Me?”

I had the opportunity to interview Katherine Dieckmann- the Director, Anthony Edwards, who plays the husband, and Uma. The movie background is interesting: 1) the movie was made almost entirely by women, 2) they shot it with a modest budget, mostly in the West Village in 25 days, and 3) Minnie Driver, who plays Eliza’s best friend, was actually pregnant in her third trimester, so they worked the pregnancy into the role. By working with mostly women on set, they tend to have been in your position before and / or have an understanding of what you’ve gone through because they’ve been there. So when one of the producer’s kids was sick, she brought him to the set so she could keep an eye on him. Kids were always welcome. How wonderful! That wouldn’t happen in most places of work. That’s why you see sick children being dropped off late to school with running noses or holding brown bags in case they get sick because their parents couldn’t find someone to watch them while they worked.
Besides supporting women in film, $1 from every ticket sold to Motherhood via website Fandango.com – during the film’s first two weeks – will go to benefit Susan G. Komen for the Cure. Additionally, Anthony Edwards seems like a genuinely super nice guy in real-life (they all were, but heck, they are actors) and is taking part in the New York Marathon on November 1 for Shoe4Africa – an organization for which he sits on the Board of Directors – which aims for empowerment through sports & education, creating unique health initiatives, and promoting Aids awareness.  

Dieckmann based the script somewhat loosely on her own life experiences of raising children in NYC. And both Edwards and Thurman have children in the city- Edwards has 4, and Thurman 2, so they do understand the demands of being a “City Mama/ Dada.”

Although I thought it was a cute movie, and enjoyable enough, I didn’t feel a connection to the main character. Just because we are Moms and are connected by the shear fact that someone calls us that, doesn’t mean we are all the same. Yes, there is the mundane-- like picking up socks and shopping for goody bag items--which no one likes. Yes, we feel as if we may have “lost” a little piece of ourselves, and long for the days when your husband looks at you like you’re the sexy mama that you are and sometimes you may want to run away from it all, but do you really run away? Come on? Would you ever really get into a car on your daughters 6th birthday and drive to New Jersey? Go have a glass of wine, take a bath or whatever else it is that helps you calm down.

I guess I’m judgmental of her. Yes, I’m calling it out—I’m one of those. I’ve never taken my child to school in my nightgown, although I have put my child into the car and almost forgot to buckle him in, but I would never knowingly drive around the block after someone told me he wasn’t strapped in. I do not smoke, and don’t judge Eliza for needing to light up after a particularly harrowing traffic showdown for a parking space. I get it- she’s stressed- everyone needs a relief. The husband doesn’t help. She used to have a career, comb her hair, be someone…Whaaaaaa,Whaaaaa. I can hear the violins now.

Minnie Driver, who plays the best friend, steals the movie (well, and a very cute messenger boy). She and her husband, who were splitting up—had “make up” sex and she got pregnant. So now, she’s pregnant and left to raise the baby and her other child alone. The funniest scene was while they were shopping at a sample sale, which Eliza surprisingly fits into her busy day rather than recognizing the fact that she had other priorities, and Minnie Driver’s character reveals an encounter with a motorized toy boat. Need I say more? Very funny.

I think some Moms who see this will relate to the struggles that Eliza is coping with. We are all excellent multi-taskers, or at least, many of us are. After all, we wouldn’t be able to do any of the things we do without that ability. And that task oriented, get the job done attitude whether you work out-of-the-house or not, is one thing we all have in common.

PTA Mom is a writer for http://www.thethreetomatoes.com/, a lifestyle guide for women over 40. You can also follow her updates on Twitter @PTA_Mom.

A Life in Books -- by Robin

2009-10-22T07:54:00.000-07:00

It's been an interesting experience unpacking, organizing, purging and donating...all of which has resulted from our basement construction. But, it's not limited to that. It's impacting our entire home, as I go through closet by closet in an effort to streamline our living. It's quite a task, and not one that will happen overnight.

One thing that has emerged for me, especially this past weekend, when we really made a huge dent in unloading boxes, was that I felt like I was coming full circle. It was as if my life was unfolding in front of me in ways I didn't anticipate.

As I unpacked and placed books, photos albums, etc. on shelves, it was the first time in quite a while that I stepped back to really examine what I had in my hands. I was holding my life. So many of the books (and I have many....as an author...I adore books) resonated with me in terms of where I was at the time I bought or read it. I started having flashbacks.

Books from travel. I turned up journals I had kept as a college student living in Nice, France for a summer. What a treat to read them. And, to peruse through some of my old French dictionaries. It was a good time in my life. It was my first experience living away from home (not counting my college dorm room), and I loved the feeling of independence and the excitement of being on foreign soil. I hung out with fellow students on the topless beaches of Nice (debating if I should go for it or not). Shopped in supermarkets like a local (I was on a budget). Saw my first French film without subtitles (barely understood a word). Took trains to Italy and Paris, and aside from my studies, lived in a pretty spontaneous manner. It suited me.

Also on my shelves were a variety of self-help books, some of which related to G-d andgrief, which were bittersweet, since I had read them after losing my beloved mom. Others were about balance, finding peace, discovering your true life's purpose, etc. Things I still ponder and should probably reread.

I also have many dating/relationship books, since as the author of How to Marry a Mensch (decent person) and my work as a Love Coach for singles (http://www.lovecoach.com/), I endeavor to keep up with the writing of others in this genre.

There were also books on playwriting and plays by some of my favorite writers including Wendy Wasserstein and Charles Busch. (I aspire to write a play one day. Have started....)

Small gift books I had received from special friends over the years.

I even turned up a few books from my teen years that managed to survive my mom's efforts to clean out my childhood basement. Little Women and Little Men were two of them. I had written my name in them, and I tried to think back to when I read them and how much they meant to me. Little Men was a chunky book, but it was a soft paperback, and one whose pages were pliable and worn. I envisioned being perched on my cushy pink backrest on my bed in my small bedroom in the home where I grew up, reading into the night, as I often liked to do.

It's funny how since then, I rarely read fiction. Since becoming an author, my focus has been non-fiction, inspirational books. Yet, as a child, I used to write and illustrate kids books (not for publication...just fun). One title was The First Mouse to Land on the Moon. I still have it, and have shared it with my son, and even his kindergarten class last year when they invited me in talk about my experiences writing how-to books, since the children were working on their own.

Recently, the mom of a student in my son's first grade class, phoned to ask if I'd speak with her son. At age six, he adores writing and wants to get his stories published and on the shelf in a library. I saw myself in him. And, I was more than glad to inspire him to continue writing, but to focus on pursuing his passion, and that he could turn his attention to publication over time. The mom was happy that I was able to speak with him from an author perspective. She didn't want him to dwell on the finished product, but to keep on loving to create stories.

I wouldn't describe myself as a book worm. I'm not particularly an avid reader. I fancy myself more as a collector. I like the look and feel of books. I'll never get a Kindle...it just wouldn't be the same for me....though I know some embrace it.

Of late, many of the newer books on my shelves relate to mothering and health. Everything from Dr. Spock to Dr. Christiane Northrup (who writes about women's health). Whether it be parenting or perimenopause, both can be complex subjects, and these are books I find myself perusing with greater frequency.

I'm grateful our basement construction has led me to this place. It's been a revealing trip down literary memory lane. Kinda like This is Your Life....in Books. Wonder what the next chapter will hold??

PS -- Wanted to give a shout out to Macaroni Kid. It is a free weekly e-newsletter I just learned of that gives you the scoop on local events for kids and families. Check it out at http://www.macaronikid.com/, and if it's not yet in your town, find out how to launch one.

"The Great Pumpkin" -- by Cara

2009-10-21T03:00:00.001-07:00

At least once each October, I take my son pumpkin picking at a large, commercial farm. My son had been looking forward to it all week, counting down the days! I was watching the weather forecast, praying for a nice day. We went for the first time this season last weekend. It was a cool, windy day, after a storm had swept through the area. But weather of any kind was not going to stop my son from his hunt...the hunt for the BIGGEST pumpkin! Or, shall we say, “The GREAT Pumpkin!”

We tried growing pumpkins from seed this year. However, I think we started out too late and the rainy, cool summer didn’t help with our pumpkin crop. In fact, our crop consists of one small, oval, green, sad pumpkin. I have my doubts that it will grow anymore, especially with the night temperatures reaching now into the 40s. Thus, the pumpkin picking. And the hunt! For the “Great Pumpkin!”

My father-in-law (bless his soul!), had promised my son that he would help him carve the pumpkin if my son picked out a big, round, beautiful pumpkin! Well, my son searched. And searched. And there were plenty of wonderful pumpkins I thought met the “GREAT Pumpkin” requirements! But not for my son. He was looking for the “perfect” pumpkin. And it had to be BIG! One of the BIGGEST pumpkins! Now we had two criteria to meet: “The GREAT Pumpkin,” and the “BIGGEST” Pumpkin! Of course, all subjective in a six year old boy’s mind!

So we searched...and searched...and searched some more. Finally, we found IT!! The ONE!! The ultimate “perfect pumpkin!” I tried to help my son lug it to our wagon, but he wanted to do it all by himself. And this “perfect pumpkin” HAD to have weighed between 25 and 30 pounds! My son was elated! “Just wait until Poppy sees this one! He’s going to say it is the BEST!”

Thank goodness a nice gentleman helped us put the GIANT pumpkin on the scale and another kind worker then put it into the car! I won’t even guess what this thing cost! But this was for my son! For his favorite time of year! Ready to do one of his favorite craft activities with one of his favorite people - his Poppy!!

The next day I dropped my son off at my Father-in-Law’s house complete with carving tools and an immensely excited boy! We heaved this gigantic pumpkin into his house and I left the two of them to their “work.” My Father-in-Law said he would drop off my son and their creation later on in the day.

Finally, I received a call that my Father-in-Law was bringing back my son with a “very creative” pumpkin! Knowing my son, I could only imagine what that meant. When they arrived it was just past sunset, so I gathered an LED tea light to put into the pumpkin to make it light up. When they placed the pumpkin on the steps leading up to our front door, I did indeed see quite an unusual pumpkin! This pumpkin had one “ear,” the typical, lopsided, triangular eyes and nose, and a mouth that would certainly scare away an orthodontist, since several teeth were missing! My son was beaming! My Father-in-Law was beaming! And all I could think of was how proud I was not only that they spent time and collaborated on such an intense project, but that they both obviously loved this pumpkin with all of it’s “uniqueness'!” I kissed them both before saying goodnight.

I then went in to get more LED tea lights....this pumpkin needed to be even brighter!

Healthy Habits -- and a Happy Kid -- by Jamie

2009-10-19T03:00:00.000-07:00

I was not a very active kid. I preferred cookies to cartwheels, and reading to running. And it showed: I was a rather chubby child, who struggled with a weight problem throughout much of my youth. It wasn’t until my mid-20s that I truly discovered the joys of exercise; I joined a boxing gym, and, as I strived to succeed in the sport, found my endorphins flowing, and my energy increasing. After just a few weeks of boxing, I set off on a quest to become stronger and faster and added running and weight training to my routine. Ultimately, my body became leaner, my heart grew healthier, and I became a gym-rat.

I’m known at my current gym as “the woman who worked out until the day she gave birth”—and it’s true: I exercised about 6 times a week throughout my pregnancy, and would have been at the gym on the day I went into labor, but I had an early OB/GYN appointment that day that deterred me; I gave birth that evening.

Soon after my C-section, I was out walking again, with Jayda strapped to my body in a Baby Bjorn, and I returned to the gym less than a month later. Exercise and eating healthfully are important to me…and I want them to be important to my child. But, as I know from my own experiences, you can’t force exercise on a kid if you want it to become a habit for her; instead, she has to enjoy it.

Like her mom, Jayda has a passion for sweet things. For a long time, I could get away with giving her fresh fruit, Greek yogurt with honey, or homemade zucchini-carrot bread as a treat. But of course, as Jayda grew, her grandparents, daycare friends, and our shopping forays introduced her to cupcakes, ice cream, candy, and other not-so-healthy snacks. I still try to limit Jayda’s treats, and make healthy substitutions whenever I can. (For example, one of Jayda’s favorite places is the “ice cream store” where, unbeknownst to her, we both eat low fat frozen yogurt.) However, since I don’t want to create an eating-disordered daughter and deny her all the foods her contemporaries are eating, I’ve been simply focusing on getting Jayda to exercise more, instead.

When Jayda was about 18 months old, I signed her up for a gymnastics class—and a year later, we’re still attending once a week. She loves it at The Little Gym, and 45 minutes of climbing, swinging, and running around are never enough for her. Weather-permitting, I take her to the playground after daycare as often as I can, and while sometimes she just wants to swing, and sit and watch the other kids play, other days, Jayda is a real little monkey, climbing the jungle gym and racing around in circles. Regardless, the playground is a place she looks forward to going to, and that’s what’s important.

Because my little girl has been begging me to go to “dance school” for months now, I’ve signed her up for a class in January, and she can’t stop talking about it. If dancing brings her as much joy as I think it will, she’ll be twirling around incessantly once class begins. Add to that the yoga class that Jayda’s daycare starting offering a few weeks ago (and which Jayda loves—and constantly practices at home), and it looks like my daughter is turning into a pretty active child. More importantly, she’s enjoying her activities every step of the way.

Recently, I began taking Jayda to my gym with me on the weekends; it has a free daycare center and she adores the woman who watches her there. As soon as she wakes up on Saturday mornings, Jayda asks me, “When is mommy going to exercise?” and “Can I come, too?!” Having a toddler who begs to go to the gym must mean I’m doing something right!

Win-Win Grandparenting -- by Robin

2009-10-16T03:00:00.000-07:00

This is chest x-ray week for our family. I had to get a follow-up to check on my pneumonia, which as it turns out is still not completely gone...so more antibiotic for me. And Seth got his first chest x-ray to check out his chronic cough. Thankfully his turned out clean, which means that we need to explore further what might be causing his daily barking (pretty scary sounding).

He's had it for two plus years now, and he's already seen a pulmonary doctor, so we know it's not asthma. His pediatrician is next going to explore acid reflux, I believe, so we'll see where that goes. I would like to get to the bottom of it sooner than later.

This leads me to my topic for the week.....that of grandparent support.

I lost my beloved mom 10 years ago, and my dad (G-d bless him) is 91 and has health challenges. My father-in-law passed away as well, and my mother-in-law (MIL) is in her 80s, and while not perfect, is in general, in decent health (and probably more than decent).

I have always missed that my mom didn't live to see me become a mom, and when I got married, I thought it would be cool to have in-laws who would love and befriend me. I'm not saying that's not the case, but yesterday I was a bit dismayed.

I had planned to take Seth to the local hospital for the x-ray, at the suggestion of his pediatrician. Coincidentally, it happens to be the hospital where my MIL volunteers twice/week. She enjoys helping there and knows a ton of the people. When she heard I was going to take Seth there, she offered to come along. I told her that would be nice and that I'd phone once he came home from school to make sure he was up for it. He had had a bit of an upset stomach earlier in the week.

When he got home, I called her, and to my surprise, she said she'd come but needed to drive separately because she agreed to have dinner at my brother-in-law's house at an early hour. I didn't see how we'd possibly be done at the hospital in time for her to make it there, so I told her to forget it, and that we'd go ourselves.

Afterwards, I felt a heartache I didn't expect. I had welcomed her support, and was suddenly let down. My own mom wouldn't have done that to me if she promised to be a shoulder to lean on. It made me acutely aware of how I miss her and how at the end of the day, the person we can most count on is ourselves. While others in our lives may mean well, they don't always deliver for whatever reason. We have to be strong in our own right, and welcome support if/when it becomes available.

This made me somewhat sad. What was it like years ago when families often lived in communities and were really there for each other? How nice. How reassuring. How convenient.

I find myself jealous of others when I hear their parents are spending time with their child or helping out in some capacity. We don't really have that. And, it's a nice relationship for both the child and grandparent. In my book, it's a win-win.

And, as a mom without a mom, I often find myself welcoming mom figures into my life. In that way, I sometimes feel a bit needy. Though, in this case, I was not the one who invited my MIL to come. She offered. And, when I opened myself up to it, the story changed.

Ultimately, as it turned out, and much to my surprise....as we got poised to leave for the hospital, my MIL showed up at our doorstep and said she cancelled her dinner plans. I guess she had a change of heart. And, it did mean a lot to me.

I hope all the moms out there who have either in-laws or their own parents available to them, treasure these moments, and the huge source of support and love and wisdom they can offer. What I wouldn't give for that.

The Loveliness of "Only" -- by Cara

2009-10-14T03:00:00.000-07:00

I recently saw a posting on a mothering website. A question was posed to those who had “only” children. The author of the post wanted to know whether the children were well adjusted and whether the Moms felt “complete” with only one child. The woman who posed this query recently found out that she would be unable to have any more children and was worried that her daughter would grow up feeling “deprived” of the experience of having siblings and whether only child families felt “complete.”

The reason I homed in on this post is because not only do I have an “only” child, I am one. I also pondered and am self-predicting that there are many “older” Moms out there who also have “onlies” and feel perfectly “complete” with this choice. In fact, all of the weekly bloggers for Motherhood Later ...Than Sooner have “only” children!

So why is it that society puts a label and needs an explanation for only children families? In fact, I cannot tell you how many times my own Mother-in-Law has made comments about my son, ending with the phrase, “Well, after all, he’s an only child, so he’s spoiled.” The word “spoiled” refers to food, not children. And it certainly is not a type of behavior, as my Mother-in-Law repeatedly implies. What is so wrong about being an “only?” And conversely, what are the attributes of having an only child?

I would like to start with my own wonderful scenario, which occurred last week. My son lost his first tooth! When I found out, I quickly went to a website that had male as well as female Tooth Fairy selections. I downloaded and printed out the page of Tooth Fairies and showed them to my son so that he could chose which Tooth Fairy he wanted to come and take his tooth. Then we e-mailed this Tooth Fairy (ie. Daddy) because my son had quite a few questions to ask his Tooth Fairy. I also downloaded a certificate that I printed on our color printer, on cardstock, which was waiting for him when he woke up. Throughout all of this, I kept thinking, how wonderful for both of us to totally immerse ourselves in this milestone event and make it as magical and as wonderful as it should be! If I had more than one child, I never would have been able to embrace this event in the same way! And it has nothing to do about money, just time. Incidentally, my best friend's little girl lost her first tooth the same day as my son. She posted something on Facebook that said, "The baby is screaming and I'm out of singles so the Tooth Fairy is bringing glitter glue tonight." When I read that, I thought to myself, how fortunate....how fortunate for us that my son is an only child.

I could list a hundred other examples of how fortunate only children are. And a hundred famous people who were only children, throughout history. I think what it boils down to, though, is the type of parenting a child gets, whether in a ten child household or a household with one, what types of individual temperaments each of the children has and how theirs “fit” within the household “mix.” And also for a child to feel loved, whether number ten or an only.
I anticipate that along with the growing numbers of “older” parents that arise, as time progresses, the number of only child families will grow in number as well. I welcome seeing this societal change as the years pass. Then maybe the labels such as “spoiled” will not only be a misnomer, they will be a thing of the past.

I came upon this fable written by Lokman, an ancient Ethiopian sage:

A hare, upon meeting a lioness one day, said reproachfully: “I have always a great number of children while you have only one now and then.”

The lioness replied, “That is true, but my one child is a lion.”

And, in fact, so is mine.

Like Mother, Like Daughter? by Jamie

2009-10-12T03:00:00.000-07:00

My daughter, Jayda, will turn three in May, and she’s been in the same daycare center since she was 3-1/2 months old. It’s a small daycare—a warm, nurturing environment where everyone knows Jayda, and she loves it there. Technically, she can stay there until she enters kindergarten, and many of her classmates will do just that. But, lately, I’ve been starting to think she needs to go somewhere new in September, where she’ll be challenged more.

My birthday is in February, and my mother started me in nursery school early, because I appeared to be very intelligent. Then, because I missed the cut-off date for public kindergarten, and my mom didn’t want to keep me in nursery school for an extra year, she put me in private kindergarten, followed by private first grade. Finally, the public school system accepted me as a 6-year-old second grader. Yes, my mother pushed me ahead—and I thrived because of it. I was always reading levels ahead of my classmates, was an overachiever throughout middle school and high school, and graduated with honors from the University of Michigan. I’m smart. And my daughter is smart, too. Along with my blonde hair, blue eyes, and passion for candy, it seems she’s inherited a bit of my intelligence.

I recently started scouting out new nursery schools for Jayda, and have been quite impressed by what I’ve seen. One place has a shiny new computer center, a large indoor padded playroom, and a small petting zoo. Another is smaller, and more worn-down, but it also has a small computer room, weekly music classes, and even teaches Spanish to 4-year-olds. I’m thrilled there are great options for us—and both places actually bus the children to school if you don’t require extended hours. These days, whenever Jayda sees a school bus drive by, she lights up, and begs to ride on it, so I know she’d be thrilled to take a bus to school. Or would she? When the reality hits, will she be scared to death to climb aboard?

When I consider the tuitions, I lean towards the place with the shiny new computer center. It’s incredibly large and modern, with so many fabulous amenities, and it’s almost the same price as the smaller, older place. But maybe the smaller school will be warmer and more appealing to Jayda…and the bigger place will seem overwhelming? I’m really not sure. I want to do what’s best for my child…and I simply want her to thrive. But I also want her to be comfortable at her new school. It’s a tough call…especially when I know Jayda’s still very happy at her present daycare center…and probably would continue to be so for awhile.

I guess I can liken this scenario to my workouts at the gym. I’m comfortable doing the same old workout every day: I know what to do, I’m good at it, and I feel pretty happy afterwards. But when I force myself out of my comfort zone and challenge myself to do completely different exercises, ultimately, I’m always thrilled with the results. No matter which school I choose for Jayda, big or small, I’m going to be pushing her out of her comfort zone: A new place, new people, and new things to learn will probably seem scary at first. But change is good—especially for a smart little girl who thrives when challenged. And now it’s up to me to make that change for her. I just wish it was easier!

Shakespeare of Moms -- by Robin

2009-10-09T06:00:00.000-07:00

Just have to quickly share (for those who have been waiting on pins 'n needles)....our basement passed final inspection this week. What a huge relief!

Moving on.....I had an interesting experience two nights ago. At the suggestion of a writer friend, I signed up for an acting class through my local adult ed program. She thought it might be beneficialbecause I aspire to write a play, and she has written some in the past and is working on others, and has found it helpful with dialogue, understanding what makes good theatre, etc.

The class began this week, and there are 14 of us, all ages, backgrounds and varied levels of dramatic experience. The instructor quickly asked each of us if we've taken acting and when. I was readily brought back to my college days. I attended Hofstra University (undergrad), and was a French minor. One of the classes I took and loved was a French drama class where I actually performed a scene entirely in French. I was so proud of myself at the time, and it was such a challenge. To this day, I fondly recall the experience and the satisfaction I got from it.

This week in the class, she started out with a variety of exercises in an attempt to get us comfortable in our own skin. Each of us was asked to stand for one minute in the room, to be observed by others, and to do nothing. Not smile. Not react. Not move. Not make eye contact with anyone. Do absolutely nothing.

For many, doing nothing was one of the hardest things they've had to do. I wasn't sure how it would feel for me. When I did it, I felt like I was blinking because my eyes were tired. I fixated on a particular poster in the room and tried to meditate so I wouldn't dwell on the fact that I was the focal point of the other students. I was afraid I'd feel overly self-conscious. It was a seemingly long minute.

After the exercise, we gathered in groups of four to share what we observed about each other. And, not one person said I blinked. I was surprised. And, they said I wasn't overly rigid, didn't rock, or do anything I had been concerned about.

This was a bit of a lightbulb moment for me.

It's so easy to judge yourself and reach conclusions about how you're perceived that may be far from the truth. And, especially if it's something that makes you feel somewhat insecure or challenged, the feelings can be all the stronger. While I'm a Leo, and sometimes enjoy attention, other times, I prefer not to be the focal point.

Imagine how as mothers it's so easy to pass self judgment. We have high expectations for our performance, yet, if you're a new mom or have one child, we have had no prior training.

The acting teacher spoke of our working on scenes for our next class, and that for those without acting experience, she'd recommend a scene close to us as people versus a Shakespeare. This made sense. Either way, we'll be stretching ourselves, and those who are so motivated, can work their way up to Shakespeare.

For me, that is not an aspiration. And, surprisingly, it made me aware that I don't need to strive to be the Shakespeare of moms either. While I embrace my role as a mom, it's certainly not always easy. But, what in life is? So, why does it make sense not to take on a big acting role right away (with no formal training), yet as a mom, we want to be at the peak of performance?!

It's ok to aim high...and we should...but we're human. We deserve to cut ourselves some slack.

Stellar Shakespearean actors aren't born in a day. And, the same holds true for us moms.

PS -- Take a listen to my interview re: later in life parenting! http://www.therealparentingshow.com/episodes/226/the-real-parenting-show-037-later-in-life-parenting/

Robin's Show Recommendation -- THE LADY WITH ALL THE ANSWERS

2009-10-08T08:00:00.000-07:00

Two-time Tony winner Judith Ivey stars as legendary advice columnist Ann Landers "THE LADY WITH ALL THE ANSWERS" Off-Broadway. I had the opportunity to take in a dress rehearsal earlier this week, and felt like I was in the presence of the famed columnist herself. Ivey's performance is captivating, and she has an endearing way of pulling in the audience, as if she's speaking to you personally. It's a warm and witty show that is both touching and amusing.

Presented by Cherry Lane Theatre, and directed by BJ Jones, the production is running through November 29.

For decades, newspaper columnist and American icon Ann Landers dispensed wit and wisdom to lovelorn teens, confused couples and countless others in need of advice in her enormously popular, nationally syndicated column. In THE LADY WITH ALL THE ANSWERS, Landers finds herself writing a column about a new kind of heartbreak -- her own. Drawn from Landers' life and letters, THE LADY WITH ALL THE ANSWERS is a touching and comic portrait of a wise, funny, no-nonsense woman who was, in fact, one of the most influential figures in America by virtue of the millions of readers who wrote to her seeking her indispensable advice and sometimes controversial opinions on matters ranging from marriage, divorce, life, death and sexuality, to the proper way to hang a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom.

Ann Landers, who was born Esther "Eppie" Pauline Friedman Lederer in 1918, wrote her first advice column in 1945, and the column ended with her death in 2002.

Judith Ivey won Tony Awards for her performances in the plays STEAMING and HURLYBURLY. She is presently playing Amanda Wingfield in THE GLASS MENAGERIE at Long Wharf Theatre in New Haven, giving a performance acclaimed by Charles Isherwood in The New York Times, and others. Her many stage credits include having played "Mommy" in Cherry Lane's celebrated productions of Edward Albee's "AMERICAN DREAM," directed by the playwright last year, and the solo play WOMEN ON FIRE. Ms. Ivey's film credits include "Devil's Advocate," "Washington Square" and "Brighton Beach Memoirs," and she starred in four television series including "Designing Women."

Playwright David Rambo's plays include GOD'S MAN IN TEXAS, THE ICE-BREAKER, THE SPIN CYCLE, a new adaptation of Sinclair Lewis' "Babbitt" and an all-new book for the Lerner and Loewe musical PAINT YOUR WAGON. He has adapted several screenplays for live performance including ALL ABOUT EVE, CASABLANCA, ADAM'S RIB and SUNSET BOULEVARD performed at the Hollywood Bowl. He is a writer and producer of the hit TV series "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation."

This Off-Broadway production of THE LADY WITH ALL THE ANSWERS is produced by The Cherry Lane Theatre in association with Northlight Theatre.

SPECIAL OFFER!
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$26 (a 50% discount) to any preview performance.
October 7 – 12; Wednesday and Saturday at 2pm and 8pm;
Thursday and Friday at 8pm; Sunday at 3pm; and Monday at 7pm.
USE CODE LADYPV
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Cherry Lane Theatre
38 Commerce St, NYC
http://www.cherrylanetheatre.org/

Halloween Horror -- by Cara

2009-10-07T03:00:00.000-07:00

My son’s FAVORITE time of the year is not his birthday, not the winter holidays, it’s Halloween. Now, I find this quite odd because this is not the time of year my son enjoys most because of the obvious - candy! No, my interesting son has no interest in candy of any type, flavor or taste. My son hates ALL sweets, even juice.

So if it’s not the candy that brings such excitement to my son, there really is only one option left. My son loves to dress up in costumes and pretend play! He has been doing this since he was two years old, and we have had quite the collection of costumes! Batman, Superman, Spiderman, pirate, cowboy, safari hunter, handyman! But, as the years went by and the costumes became too small, his interest in costumes diminished for all except one: Spiderman!

I think my son has been Spiderman at Halloween for three years in a row now! I even went out and bought the black (“dark”) Spiderman costume as well as the red and blue one last year, because my son would then have a choice, but his choice flip-flopped just about every hour, if not day! So, he ended up wearing both! One for a special event, and the other one to Trick-or-Treat in. So, Spiderman it has always been. Until this year.

My son is now 6. And I was pretty certain that he would want to be a Spiderman of one type or another again this year. Just to be on the safe side though, I asked him what he wanted to be for Halloween since all of the Halloween signs and displays are already up. His response: A Power Ranger. Well, okay, a Power Ranger works for me. So we pulled up some Power Ranger costumes on the computer so that he could show me which one he liked the best, since there are (I think) six different color Power Rangers. As we were scrolling up and down, I was certain he would want to be the green power ranger, since green is his favorite color. Wrong. Again. He wanted to be a RED Power Ranger because according to my son, the red Power Ranger is the one who is the most powerful. Okay, fine. I just should have ordered the costume online right then and there and been done with it. But no, I decided to send my son and husband on a mission. To buy the red Power Ranger costume at our local party store because the weekly flyer was having a sale on costumes that week. Mark this one as ONE BIG, HUGE MISTAKE!!!

Later that day, my son came running into the house, my husband behind him, with plastic chains across his body and hooks with fake dried blood painted on them hanging off the chains. My son looked elated! My husband looked elated! I looked horrified! My son ran upstairs, chains jingling. When I asked my husband what my son had on, he said part of his Halloween costume. I asked why a Power Ranger costume would have such hideous chains and hooks with it. My husband replied,”It’s not a Power Ranger costume! It’s a Ghost Rider costume! Now for those of you, like me, who are not exactly sure what a Ghost Rider costume is, it is a motorcycle jacket and hat, with a mask depicting a partially decomposing face, accented with these lovely chains I mentioned. Well, I can’t print what I ACTUALLY said to my husband, but it falls along the lines of, “Are you crazy??!! Do you REALLY think that this is an appropriate Halloween costume for a SIX YEAR OLD??!! The mask alone is going to scare his friends!! And their parents!!” My husband made some half nonsensical remark such as, “Oh, it’s just a costume!” And ran up to see my son.

Two days later, I went back to the store where the Ghost Rider costume came from and exchanged it for the red Power Ranger costume. Yes, my son will be angry with me, my husband won’t understand me, but I can at least be able to say that I was the responsible parent. Someone in this family has to be one, it might as well be me. And it usually is.

What Me Weary? by Jamie

2009-10-05T03:00:00.000-07:00

People who know me are used to my complaints about Jayda waking up at 5 a.m. every day. But the fact is, pre-Jayda—before she was even a glimmer of an idea in my head—I awoke willingly before 5 every morning to go to the gym. I religiously devoted at least 10 hours a week to working out—hard—and I also worked full-time, did some additional freelance work, ate ridiculously “clean” (keeping myself at less than 10% body fat year-round), and still managed to go out on dates several times a week. I also suffered from insomnia, and rarely got more than 5-6 hours of sleep a night.

Fast-forward to my present-life. I still get to the gym 5-6 times a week, still eat very healthfully 90% of the time (though I allow myself to consume more food these days, and thus, carry a more reasonable amount of body fat), I rarely drink (and when I do, it’s just a well-savored glass of wine), and I currently work from home. However, lately, several times a week when I put Jayda to bed between 7:30 and 8 p.m., and I lay down beside her to rub her back, I wind up passing out with her (and am shocked when I look at the clock and discover it’s after midnight and I have to force myself up to go brush my teeth)! I also find myself looking forward to bedtime…and have no problem sleeping through the night—and for as long as Jayda will allow me. I even crave naps on the weekends—though Jayda never lets me take them. In short, now that I’m a mom, I’m tired!

I passed a recent physical with flying colors. And more often than not, people tell me I don’t look my age. So why am I so exhausted? I have a friend who is constantly chasing her bolting toddler through stores and restaurants; I rarely have that problem since Jayda generally doesn’t race away from me, and she never wanders far. Jayda’s not an overly-active kid—just a “normal” one. She’s also a fairly even-tempered child. She certainly has her share of tantrums, but I’ve met plenty of kids who are much harder to manage. And while Jayda is a ceaselessly curious child—always asking me questions and probing me to produce creative answers—that shouldn’t physically exhaust me…or should it?

Maybe it just comes down to one thing: Taking care of someone else requires a whole lot more energy than simply taking care of yourself. And while I’ve always had stress in my life (who doesn’t?), and I’ve always found ways to manage it, knowing that you’re solely responsible for the one person whom you love more than anyone and anything in the world is a stress like no other. And it’s the kind of stress that never goes away. I guess I just need to accept that…and get as much rest as I can. And while I do still plan to be 40 and fabulous this February, maybe I’ll just have to make sure I do it before 8 p.m.

Baby Steps -- by Robin

2009-10-02T16:00:00.000-07:00

In case you are yearning for a basement update......we finally had our plumbing inspection done today. Unreal....it took nearly a month to get the guy here. Next up is the town inspection, and then we're good to go....with some minor items yet to be done by the contractor. Everything will be moved back downstairs, and life will resume.

That said, I'm now in the throes of attempting to organize.

I feel like we've moved. Not only do we have to get things in order upstairs since so much was moved up to the main floor for safe-keeping, but we (I) then have to decide what goes where in the basement.

We went to Target this weekend and bought a ton of plastic bins...varying sizes...to store Seth's toys. I am spending this week pouring through the bins of toys we have in the living...and then his bedroom....to create a place for each of them. Of course, in the mix, I'm finding tons of little and big pieces with no obvious home.

I'm not great at just throwing out stuff. It's something I'm working on...not just for Seth, but myself. I can't live well in a state of clutter. I don't know how anyone can. But, it's also not easy to take the bull by the horns and devote the time that is needed to create a sytem in your home. Ultimately you'll be all the better for it, but it's a painstaking process.

And, Marc (my husband) isn't overly up for the task. And, Seth can only do so much. So, it's on my shoulders. And, I must admit, I have moments where I feel resentful. This is not fun. But, then I remind myself that lots of life's projects require major time and effort and are not always a joy, depending on the stage you're in.

In a perfect world, we'd all have the opportunity to focus on our passions, but we do have responsibilities. And, since I've become a mom, I'm all the more conscious of that.

I feel like there is so much that I take care of. My husband has his share too. But, since I'm the one working from home, I'm constantly bouncng back 'n forth from activity to activity.

I was part of a "prayer" call this week that a friend of mine arranged. She was in need of the empowering energy of a group to help her attract more money into her life. Who wouldn't want that?! But, she truly is in need.

So, I participated. Not being sure what this would entail. While the focus was on my friend, it's interesting how you can take away even when you're not the center of attention. We each had a chance to introduce ourselves and then share ideas and thoughts for my friend. Then, the facilitator shared her sentiments, and it hit home for me.

In the midst of all the tasks of life that we have on our plates, as women, we are often hard on ourselves. She emphasized the need to be self forgiving. To cut ourselves some slack as we endeavor to be all things to all people.

And, one of the gals added the importance of making time for self and having fun or just chilling.

I know I can be hard on myself, and it's something I need to work on. And, I could use more belly laughs for sure. And reflexology massages.

While a big part of me wishes I could just snap my fingers and have my house (and basement) in tip top shape, if I focus on what is realistic for me to accomplish today and each day, little by little, step by step, things will get done.

It might feel like baby steps. But, I remember when my son took his first baby steps, and now, in the blink of a eye, as the years have quickly passed, he's itching to play football.

PS -- Check out the MotherhoodLater.com October featured later mom, Marissa Janet Winokur, actress/singer/Luv's spokesperson. A cancer survivor, she and her husband used a surrogate, and she shares her story with us.

PPS -- Thanks to http://awholevillage.com/ for the October giveaway on MotherhoodLater.com. They produce lovely one-of-a-kind custom keepsake books that feature your personal wisdom.

GUEST BLOG POST: Across Generations - Growing Up with Later Parents -- by Darren Manley

2009-10-01T12:22:00.000-07:00

The week she was going to leave for a dream vacation to Europe is the week my mother discovered she was three months pregnant. It was January of 1984; she was 44 years old and married two years. Coming home from the doctor, she was – along with my 57-year old dad – more than a little surprised by the boy who had taken up residence inside her, especially as she had thought she was going through the Change of Life at the time and would not be able to conceive.

The doctors were quite surprised, too. My parents hadn’t tried to conceive before marriage, and once they were married, they were open to the idea of having a child, but didn’t think it would happen at Mom's age.

In the mid-1980s, Mom didn’t have the support, knowledge, and expert care that later parents today have. With the average ages of marriage and parenting gradually climbing, our understanding of the needs later parents have is increasing. The important decision to conceive or adopt is leavened by the comfort this understanding provides. But there is another element the later parent has that no knowledge or statistic can give, and it’s the one my mother drew on most: faith.

It was a magnanimous faith that her generation exemplified, and she would exercise it so often in the months and years ahead, just as many later moms do. Instead of cruising the world, she decided to take the more meaningful, lasting journey into motherhood, and she believed in herself through all the difficult, fun, and just plain humorous moments that parenting provides. Mom’s faith was specific to her generation, yet also universal – it is displayed every time a parent decides that age and generation will have no say in the love she has for her children.

Growing up with older parents was a different experience for me in a world that values youth so fiercely. But as a young adult, I came to see that what I once thought were negatives were actually positives. In sacrificing their retirement to care for me, Mom and Dad used another of their gifts as later parents – the gift of perspective. They had seen so much of the world and endured so many of its changes that the inevitable ups and downs of parenting seemed almost natural to them. While they got caught up in the day-to-day, as all first-time parents do, they were also able to draw upon their many life experiences and look to the future in a way their counterparts just couldn’t. This perspective was, in many ways, passed down to me as I learned about life from a father who had once eaten five-cent candy bars and a mother whose earliest memories included Harry Truman coming from behind to defeat Thomas Dewey in 1948.

Growing up with later parents, at its core, gave me a heightened appreciation for the important things in life – faith, family, honesty, and old-fashioned respect. And later parents, regardless of generation, seem to know innately what is important, starting with the opportunity to be a parent and instill their values in the children they love so much.

At my regular blog (http://www.growingupold.com/), I often hear from later parents who wonder how their children will view them as young adults. They find my thoughts – at 25 years of age – comforting (and, hopefully, encouraging). I think that this infuses my words with a purpose, beyond simply writing about my childhood. While my immediate goal is to tell our story, I have also begun to take pride in showing later parents that age is one of the greatest advantages they could ever have. Today, with my mother 69 and my father 82, we laugh and cry when we talk about my journey of “growing up old,” and I know in my heart that they would take it with me all over again.

100% REAL Boy! by Cara

2009-09-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

My six year old is such a boy. A REAL boy! A play in the mud, climb a tree, dig a trench boy! Which is not to say that nice, quiet, sit and read boys AREN’T real boys. They are most certainly “real” boys too! But my boy is a BOY! A get down and dirty (thank you, Oxyclean Laundry spray!) boy! So it is of no surprise that my son came home yesterday with (and my “boy” husband bought for him) new pets: Hermit Crabs!!!
I realized my son was a “real” boy around age two. Up until then, I had bought my son “gender neutral” toys such as building blocks, shape sorters, farms and farm animals, a varity of animal theme books. But one day, we went to a playdate at a friend’s house. This friend of mine has two boys, one my son’s age and the other a couple year’s older. And scattered all around my friend’s playroom were trucks! And cars! And trains! All toys my son had never seen, let alone played with before!! At that moment, I knew that there most definitely is a gene in boys for preferred play with trucks, cars and trains! My son made a bee-line right to the biggest truck he saw and started pushing it all around, making vrooming sounds as he went! How did he know to do this? Where did he learn to play with the trucks and cars this way?! The only explanation I could rationally come up with was that it was in his genes!
My son was then obsessed with trucks, cars and trains! Every truck he saw while we drove, he would call out, “twuck!!” as if he had never seen one before! So the nice, “gender neutral” toys slowly were replaced with trucks and cars of every size. And along with that, another obsession emerged: Trains. Particularly “Thomas the Train”, trains! At one point we probably had close to 30 Thomas trains, and wooden tracks, bridges, tunnels, and every sort of accessory one could imagine for these trains! We even had just about every Thomas DVD ever produced! And every day, after I picked my son up from daycare and fed him, we had to put in a Thomas DVD and build a track system so that as many trains as we had at the time could all caravan behind Thomas! But alas, this extremely expensive train obsession came to an end by the time my son turned four. I refuse to throw away hundreds of dollars worth of wooden trains and tracks, so they are packed up and ready for a special friend, when her baby’s train gene emerges and he wants to play with trains!
Then, around the time my son turned five, we were digging in our garden to plant a flower, when my son spotted an earthworm! A big, fat, pink earthworm! No more than 5 minutes had gone by when, like the whirlwind my son is, he ran inside the house, got a plastic container, put dirt in the container, and in went the earthworm...named, “Wormy.” I knew right then I was doomed. My REAL boy was blossoming into now 100% REAL boy! And what does a mother of a REAL boy to do than to “adopt” a garden worm? Thankfully we were going on vacation ten days later and my son’s pre-K teacher agreed to “watch” Wormy while we were away. Even better, my son forgot about Wormy after we returned, so his teacher let it go free in the dirt outside without my son even aware.
From there my son spent months begging for a “pet” snake. I negotiated and bought him an earthworm hatchery kit. I tried to convince him that they were “small snakes.” But eventually we had to let them go free in the garden. Then we bought caterpillars and watched them hatch into butterflies! We kept them and fed them fresh fruit, but you could tell that they wanted to fly free, so we watched them go! Next my son became obsessed with lizards and geckos and wanted one of them as a pet! Both my husband (thankfully) and I vetoed both of those creatures.
Well, now we have new pets:“Hot Rod” and “Speedy” (neither of them moves much, but okay, they can think they are racers!). And although I adamantly put my foot down that I would NOT care for these creeping, crawling things, I know that their care will ultimately fall to my domain of care. Oh, and did I mention that we already have two dogs and two fish? And guess who takes care of those?? Hmm??

Ensuring That I'm Insured -- by Jamie

2009-09-28T03:00:00.000-07:00

Almost immediately after my daughter was born, I made an appointment with a lawyer to draw up a will and legally name a guardian for Jayda, as assurance that she would be taken care of, upon my untimely death. I also rushed out to meet with a life insurance agent to make certain Jayda’s potential guardian would have plenty of money with which to take care of her. Then, I breathed a sigh of relief: I had done my duty as a responsible single mom.

Fast-forward to January 2009, when my long-time job as a children’s book buyer for a large retailer was unexpectedly eliminated. Fortunately, along with a nice severance package, my former employers also agreed to pay their usual share of my medical benefits coverage for an entire year. Again, I breathed a sigh of relief…albeit a temporary one. But recently, I realized there was another investment I’d neglected to make. Because I had the foresight to purchase a life insurance policy, if I die, Jayda will be fine, financially. But what if I don’t die…and I simply can’t work anymore? I’m a writer, but what if an accident renders me physically unable to write? Or coach? Or teach? Or do a myriad of things I’m exploring now as future careers. I lost my disability insurance along with my former job, and I now realize how crucial it is for me to have it…not just as insurance for myself, but for Jayda. Crucial…and very, very costly.

Disability insurance premiums get more expensive as you get older. I guess it’s a good thing I’m looking for coverage now, before I turn 40, but, on the other hand, it would have been even better to have secured a policy when I was only 35. And the more money I require to live on every month, should I become disabled, the more expensive the insurance becomes (and the maximum I’ve been approved for is far from generous…living on it would still be pretty difficult). In addition, the fewer loopholes and more extensive the coverage, the more costly it is. And, well, in short, the kind of disability insurance I need is very expensive: A high monthly payment for coverage I hope I’ll never realize a penny from. Ugh. Sometimes being responsible sucks.

As I look at my calendar, I can’t help but realize that January will be here before I know it…and my low-cost-to-me family health insurance coverage will be up. That means I’ll also have to find new medical and dental insurance policies for Jayda and myself. And my bank account will dwindle even more. How does anyone survive as a freelancer with all of these insurance costs? There must be lots of daredevils out there, living without them, and hoping for the best. But, as a single mom looking out for her priceless child, I find them non-negotiable: I need them all.

Yesterday, I got a free upgrade to a new, very high-tech Blackberry. As the salesman was filling out the forms and getting my signature, he asked me: “Do you want insurance?” I declined. It was nice for a change. I’ll take risks with my electronics, no matter how fancy they are—but never with my daughter.

Note: For those of you Long Islanders who missed my live TV appearance on “Something to Talk About,” it will be re-airing this week on the following channels:
Great Neck Cablevision 20 [15 GN/North Shore incorporated villages], Starting Tuesday, Sept. 29 airs for two weeks: Tuesday 8 PM, Friday 10 PM, and Monday 5:30 PM;
Verizon FIOS 37 [All of Nassau County]: Same dates/times as above;
Cablevision 20 [Different from the Cable 20 channel listed above] in the rest of Nassau & W. Suffolk [all of the "Cablevision WOODBURY System"]: Thursday, Sept. 24 at 7:30 PM; Cablevision Digital IO 115 [all of the "Cablevision WOODBURY System"]: Thursday, Oct. 1 at 7:30 PM

Life in the Fast Lane -- by Robin

2009-09-25T03:00:00.000-07:00

For better or worse, I feel like I'm living life in the fast lane....literally.

Last week a friend told me about Mercury Retrograde because I felt like things just weren't going right in a wide variety of ways.

Well....this week, the universe continues to speak to me, and if I don't listen, I need to get my hearing checked.

I've had a cough for a couple of weeks now that is keeping me up at night. It's a dry cough, so I presumed it was allergies, post nasal drip or due to throat irritation from acid reflux. My dad has a gastro doctor he really likes, who I've spoken to on his behalf on the phone, so I decided to make an appointment to see him.

He had a lovely bedside manner, and I felt very comfortable sharing my health history and what brought me to him. After taking notes, he said let's take a chest x-ray. I haven't had one in a number of years, so I thought fine, and didn't expect anything.

I waited patiently for the results, and to my total shock, he told me I have pneumonia. I never had pneumonia before. How is that possible? Who knows!? But, it's here. I don't feel awful, and I always thought you would with pneumonia. He said not everyone is highly symptomatic.

So, I'm now on antibiotic and am so grateful that I didn't dismiss my cough. Goes to show you really need to know your own body.

Earlier this week, despite being ill, I was committed to attend a moms night out dinner for Motherhood Later in NY. It featured speaker Elaine Lerner on the subject of ADHD (http://www.adhdparenttrainer.com/). It was a very informative talk, and was enjoyable to spend time with mom peers, some of whom I met for the first time.

When the talk ended, I went to my Kia rent a car (You might recall that last week I was in a car accident, so my Camry is now in the shop..to be returned mid-next week.) and put my bags down on the hood while I said good-bye to a friend. We had to move our respective cars because we were blocking someone else. We chatted a bit more and then took off for home, and when I got home, I had my pocketbook, but my tote bag was nowhere to be found. I went crazy looking under the seats and all over, and drove frantically back to the restaurant, but no bag was turned in. I had my date book in there (which is my life), notes from the dinner talk, flyers, a CD, etc. Luckily my phone and camera were with me, so it could have been way worse. I recognize.

On my way back home, upset and without my trusty tote, I decided to drive very slowly on the main road and I head past papers flying all over the lane. I pull over into a safe side area, jump out, and dodging cars, I pick up one piece of paper and see that it's one of the Motherhood Later flyers from the meeting. I then look more closely and see my tote laying in the middle of the two way, four lane road, being run over by traffic. I scurry to grab it and look anxiously to see what is inside.

I lost the notes from the meeting, and my pens and card case were smashed, but other than that, the bag itself and other items were totally intact. (It was a lesportsac. Boy are those things made of steel. And, they've created a new line for moms. http://www.lesportsac.com/.)

I was in total disbelief that I even had this experience.

When I got home and looked back on last week, my tote bag incident, and now being under the weather, clearly it would seem that I need to get my act together in more ways than one.

What I came up with is this...

Slow down. Focus. Invite clarity into your life. Don't we wedded to "stuff." It's just stuff, and we are not defined by our "stuff".

Step back. Get off the spinning hamster wheel. It never stops unless you make it.

None of this is easy for me. I'm used to being a producer. And, being a mom has complicated that equation. I'm not entirely sure that we can have it all, though we/I try. It's for sure a juggling act and one that can wear you out. (I wrote last week about being worn out.) My to-do list is full of both big stuff and minutia, and it's a lot for anyone to handle. But, such is life, and it's not unique to me. I hear so many talk about being busy, busy.

Part of it is time management. For me, another part is de-cluttering. My house looks like a bomb hit it due to our basement construction. But, in the next month or so, we will be done with it, and can work on inviting positive energy back into our home and lives. We will purge and organize and create a system that ideally works for all of us.

A cluttered home leads to a cluttered brain leads to potential incidents such as the ones I've been having of late. At least that's my philosophy. I need to cut myself some slack. Take stock of what is truly important. Practice self-care. And, not feel guilty if I take a break. If not now, then when?!

A perpetually overtaxed mom isn't good for anyone.

Whose Homework is This Anyway? -- by Cara

2009-09-23T08:31:00.000-07:00

I’m tired of my son’s elementary school. And he just started first grade. I’m still getting over being tired of it from last year, when my son was in Kindergarten. What am I so tired about? Homework. And not just the part of homework that my son has to complete, but the endless, detailed instructions that the PARENTS (read: Mothers) have to complete in order for their child to correctly complete their assignments.

Take, for instance the buldging workbook that came home yesterday along with three different assignments! Supposedly, from what I can gather after reading the instructions on one of the assignments a half dozen times, I am supposed to copy certain “sight words,” preferrably on colored paper, and hang them up all over my house, make “flash cards” of these “sight words,” and run around after my child, while he is home, holding up these cards or pointing to the words hung up in each room and “quiz” him on these particular words! I also have to glue a smaller set of these words in a “Word Wall Book” with the instructions,”Be CAREFUL! Don’t glue the pages together!” What? Am I now in first grade too?!

I don’t get it. I am more than happy to assist my son with writing words, helping him read simple books, and suggest illustrations to complement what he wrote. But all of this copying, taping, pasting...who realistically has time for this in today’s world? And I have just one child! What do parents do who have several children, all of who’s teachers are requesting what will probably amount to an hour’s worth of time copying, cutting, taping and pasting too?! And to top it all off, we were reprimanded! Although it was not stated anywhere in the detailed instructions that all of this had to be handed in the next day, we were sent home a note reminding us that we were supposed to return the pasted,“Word Wall Book” AND the three other lengthy assignments the next day! Tisk, tisk on us! We also didn’t get to hang up “sight words” or make flash cards either! Oh, for shame!!

Last year, at the beginning of school, the Kindergarten teacher asked us to buy a two pocket folder. The PARENTS were given 2 weeks to cover the entire folder, front and back with photos that our children would use in order to create “stories” which would be presented back to us at the end of the year. This little project took me, all totalled, two HOURS to complete! Since our home color copier was not working very well, I had to upload some 20 to 25 photos to an internet photo website where copies were printed and mailed back. I even had to upgrade the cost of shipping to Second Day Priority, so that I would have time to do the SECOND part of this exciting project! Once I received the photos, I then had to group similar photos together, then cut and paste them all over both sides of this “Creativity Folder!” I spent so much time on this thing I took photos of it! And guess what? My son did not use one photo grouping to write his “stories!” I personally spent two hours over two weeks preparing this rediculous folder only to find that my son didn’t want to write about the photos! He had his own creative agenda. Can you say, TOTAL waste of time, money and energy?!

So guess what I am NOT going to do this year? I am NOT going to make colored “site word” cards and place them all over my house. I am NOT going to be making any flash cards and chase my son around, asking him what each card says. And I am NOT playing “Memory Game” every single night to help foster “sight word” recognition, as my child’s teacher puts it, “in a snap!” No, I am not going to do any of that. Unless my son’s teacher would like to come to my home each evening and make my family’s dinner, do the dishes, get lunches ready, put in a load of laundry and also feed and walk my dogs. Well, then it is just not going to get done. Sorry, Ms. First Grade teacher. It is just NOT going to happen in this house!