Happy Holidays For Goodness Sake

Raising a child teaches you many things.  Not just about parenting, but about life and human nature, in general. This holiday season I feel like I have learned so much from my son.  He is a shining example of the joy that is innately part of the human condition.  It makes me startlingly aware that the negativity, prejudice, and bigotry that have become forefront features of our society, are, indeed, learned.  It is an absolute shame.

While social media has many positive aspects, it also let’s you see things you sometimes wish you hadn’t.  Like people’s opinions and views that aren’t in alignment with your own.  I try to be respectful about other people’s viewpoints.  I really try. But there are times I actually feel dirty for not speaking up and setting the world straight.  I know there is a line.  I’m just not sure of where it is anymore.  I feel like it used to be enough to just live your life by the principles you tried to uphold.  You did what you thought was right and prayed for the enlightenment of others who didn’t seem to follow the same compass.  But today, it seems as though there is a complete blur about what is good and just.  The grey area is an abyss and the surety of black and white is all murky and tainted.

There was a thread on the Book of Face that had something to do with preferring to say Merry Christmas as opposed to Happy Holidays.  Now this debate is dated, I know.  It’s been around for quite awhile.  In 2017, though, it is not only old fashioned, but has the air of  “Make America Great Again.”  Choosing to post and repost that sentiment could be construed as offensive, ignorant, and disrespectful of other cultures.  Do people understand that? Do they?  I’d like to think anyone I know might not have thought it through fully.  I’m not saying don’t write or say Merry Christmas.  If you celebrate Christmas, then by all means, sing it out to the world.  But to be offended by “Happy Holidays” is just ridiculous.  Because there are several other Holidays celebrated at this time of year.  In addition to the Christian Christmas there are a slew of Holidays celebrated in December:

Saint Nicholas Day (Christian)
Fiesta of Our Lady of Guadalupe (Mexican)
St. Lucia Day (Swedish)
Hanukkah (Jewish)
Three Kings Day/Epiphany (Christian)
Boxing Day (Australian, Canadian, English, Irish)
Kwanzaa (African American)
Omisoka (Japanese)
Yule & Saturnalia (Pagan)
Eid Al-Fitr (Muslim)

So, I go back to my son.  He has learned about Christmas from us, as we celebrate it.  But he has learned about most of the other holidays of the season from Sesame Street.  Yes, Sesame Street.  He seems partial to Christmas, but I think it is only because of Santa Claus.  It is hard to resist the jolly saint in the red suit who brings you toys.  But, he is as spirited about the other holidays.  I suppose it is because he has learned about them and sees that they bring joy to the people who celebrate them.  Even my three year old can see that saying Happy Holidays does not take anything away from his Merry Christmas.  He is an eager elf who wishes anyone and everyone tidings of the season.  Happy Holidays, Happy Kwanzaa, you name it.  It’s equal cheer to him.  Why can’t it be that way for all adults?

I know several people who believe in the Make Christmas Great Again theme.  They are church going folks.  They believe they are good Christians.  If you asked them, they would insist they weren’t bigoted.  But negating another religions sacred time, is bigoted.  Not to mention, un American.  Remember this country was founded on religious freedom.  It seems to me, the people who claim to have the moral high ground have lost their footing, most assuredly.  I know this Christmas vs Happy Holidays is such small potatoes.  Especially nowadays.  But I can’t help but think it’s these little things that chip away, bit by bit, at the core of our human decency.

Whatever it is you celebrate this season, may it bring you joy and peace in your heart.  We will do our best to keep the joy in our sons heart for ALL Holidays.  For ALL people.  For Goodness Sake.

Until next time, keep,fighting the good fight.  Remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Happy Holidays! Xo

 

 

 

 

 

 

We Live With An Elf

I love Christmas.  I truly love everything about it.  I love the tree, the baking, the music, the decorating, the gifting.  I really have always enjoyed this time of year, but this year, something is different.  We have a preschooler who is old enough now to be really into Christmas, but young enough to be untouched by any outside cynicism.  His innocence is pure joy and it’s infectious. The spirit of Christmas is alive in our home.  And it’s wonderful.

It actually feels at times like we live with an elf.  I don’t know how else to put it.  My three and a half year old is an elf.  The amount of Christmas spirit this kid embodies is astounding.  Even by my estimation, and I start listening to Christmas music around Halloween.  His excitement for the season brims over throughout the day.  Christmas carols can be heard pretty much at all waking hours and even when he is supposed to be sleeping.  You can walk by the door to his room and hear “Jingle Bells” most every morning.  And when we are out and about in the world, he greets his fellow humans with a hearty “Happy Holidays!” “Happy Kwanza!” Or “Happy Harmonica!”  He is equally excited for ALL holidays. It is all joy to him.

Being around this amazing child is a constant reminder of the good that is inately in people.  He is a human reminder of the joy and wonder that lives inside us, somewhere.  I am infinitely lucky.  I get to remember the wonder and feel his joy every day. It becomes my own.  My child makes me believe in the good of man.  He makes me believe in Magic and, of course, Santa Claus.  It is such a gift to see the season through his eyes.  A gift I want to never end.

My wish for you this Holiday Season, is to see Joy, through a child’s eyes.  Allow yourself to believe in the good of mankind.  Let yourself believe in the impossible.  Remember, believing is seeing.  I am sure I sound like a broken record. But I am the luckiest mommy in the whole world.  I believe it.  So it is so.   In the words of Nancy Tillman,

          Your tree may be large as the room will allow

          With a big yellow star on the upper most bough

          But of one thing I’m certain, I’m sure of one thing,

          It is LOVE that makes the angels sing.

Thank you, my little O, for showing me what Christmas is made of.  And for making the angels sing.  Oh how they sing!  Happy Holidays Everyone!

Until next time, thanks for reading.  And remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Joyous Noel! Xo

 

The Secret To Happiness

I practice gratitude on a daily basis.  I’ve been doing it for a really long time.  I started long before my husband and I got married and, in turn, before our awesome son was born.  I mention them, because these days they are what I am most grateful for.  But my life wasn’t always so full.

I remember when I started my first gratitude journal.  It was over ten years ago.  More like fifteen.  I remember reading about gratitude in some Oprah book.  I was in between gigs (which always led to some level of anxiety and uncertainty within me).  I didn’t have a stable relationship with the man I was “dating.”  I knew, somewhere in my gut, that the relationship had no real future.  I was in my thirties.  Divorced.  I didn’t own my own home yet. My family was wonderful,  but they all had their own lives.  I was on the slow boat to figuring it all out.  In fact, I remember wondering, if I ever really would know what true happiness was all about.  I recall feeling like I needed to try something to get my head in the right place.  Writing a list of five things I was grateful for each day seemed pretty painless.  And according to Oprah, it was uber powerful.  I decided to do it.

I know it may sound ridiculous to those who have never tried it.  But this simple practice actually changed my life.  I started slow.  I had to think to name those five things everyday.  Somedays it would be things as simple as the clean water I get to drink, or the beautiful weather.    I actually started seeing the world around me in such a different way.  Roadblocks became opportunities.  I learned to appreciate what was right in front of me instead of always looking to the next thing.  My focus throughout the day became looking for the positive things I could add to my list.  And day after day my gratitude grew.  My attitude shifted and my heart became happy.  My inner voice became clear and loud within me. Gratitude didn’t just change my life, it changed me.

This Thanksgiving I am filled with gratitude for all I have in my life.  These days naming five things is a breeze….my daily list could fill pages and pages. But in the spirit of honoring this simple practice that I believe in so wholeheartedly, I will make a list.  Five things.  It’s the secret to happiness.  I promise.

  1. My wonderful husband
  2. My amazing son
  3. Our health
  4. Our home
  5. My parents

Until next time, I encourage you to get yourself a notebook, pick up a pen and name your five things.  See what happens.  And remember, behind every great kid is a Mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks so much for reading.  Xo

Mummy MIA

I will NOT gloat. I will NOT brag.  I am well aware that the success we enjoyed on our vacation to Disney World was an absolute crap shoot.  It could have easily gone awry.  It could have been filled with tears and tantrums, snot and sass.  We somehow dodged the bullet and had an amazing time.  O was unbelievably good.  He rolled with everything.  I am still amazed.  He exceeded any expectations I had (although, as you know, I kept them very low.). It was absolute joy and we can’t wait to go again.  Let the countdown begin! Again!

So since I can’t complain about my child’s behavior on our trip, let me let loose on a real parenting fail we witnessed whilst in the happiest place on earth.  Its unfortunate to see.  You think, wait, this is a place for family vacations and being together, right? I suppose there are all types of families and all types of a-holes.

We were enjoying the zero entry pool at the Animal Kingdom Lodge one day and this little girl decided to attach herself to us.  She was British and very chatty.  She was 5 years old.  I looked around to see where her parent or parents might be?  Strange to see a 5 year old on her own in the huge pool. She clearly could not swim, though she protested she could.  Her attendance to us became a little awkward as she started to hang on my husband while he was holding O to swim.  I told her it wasn’t safe for her to jump on anyone in the pool.  She then waded back to where she could stand on her own.  A woman appeared, who I assumed was her mother.  The woman told the little girl to watch her little brother.  And off the woman went.  To the bar.  In fact, the whole table of “adults” from that “family” were sat out of good view from the children in the pool.  Now little Chatty Cathy is in the pool again hanging around us while her 3 year old brother wades in shallower water.  He had swimmies on his arms, but really? 3!!! Alone in the pool with a bunch of strangers and his barely treading water 5 year old sister!  Mind you, this pool is HUGE.  I asked Chatty where her parents were.  She pointed to the bar area, “over there somewhere.”  What the heck, people!  Are you kidding me?  You don’t leave children (5 & 3) in the hotel pool by themselves.  Are you complete idiots?  As a parent, are you thinking, “Well, someone will watch them.”  ??? Like the parents who are actually IN the pool with their kids.  Like us?

Listen, I get that we ALL NEED a vacation.  I get that we are ALL in vacation mode.  But just because you are in Disney World doesn’t mean bad things don’t happen to kids there.  AND…you don’t get to take a vacation from your kids in Disney World.  If you wanted alone time, you should have left them at home and went to some adults only all-inclusive where the drinks are free, as clearly that is where your head is at.  As parents we don’t get to take a respite from our duties of caring for the well being of our children.  It’s a 24/7 job.  Sorry.  Even on vacation. And this isn’t about letting your children be free and not helicopter parenting…..this is about safety and, I don’t know, maybe spending some quality time with your children! Who am I to say, right? And, yes, it certainly does takes a village.  But when the parents vacate the village for the local watering hole, leaving their young to latch on to just anyone, it really pisses this villager off.  If you don’t understand the incredible privilege you have to be a parent, then you certainly won’t understand my point.  We GET to be their protectors!  It may feel like a job some days, but make no mistake, it is a special opportunity, not enjoyed by everyone.  It is my humble opinion, that if you piss away that time (yes, I just said piss away), you are a fool.  End of rant.

Until next time, I’ll try not to rage on.  Remember, behind every great kid is a mother who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks so much for reading.  Xo

 

P90X or PB&J

I was at the park the other day with a bunch of moms and their children from my town.  I am, undoubtedly, the oldest of our group.  I realize that our ages make little difference.  We mostly talk about our kids.  We watch them interact.  We bond over parenting trials and triumphs. The differences in our children’s ages seems more apparent than our own ages.  At least from my perspective.  The other mom’s could totally be thinking, “Who is this old lady?”  Lol.  But, Ok.  I digress.

So we are at the park and someone brings up some work out DVD. I was going to write video, but that really glorifies my age.  It may not even be a DVD, but some type of “on demand” thing you can subscribe to.  You, by now, are getting the idea that I have no clue or interest in any kind of P90 X, Y or Z.  Someone brought up the 30 day diet or challenge or fix… or something.  Again, I have no clue about anything paleo, Atkins or Zone.  I had to actually google “diets” to find those.  Did you know there is something actually called the Taco Diet? You literally only eat tacos for thirty days.  That’s insane.

When I was younger (in my 20’s and 30’s) I was a vegetarian.  When I turned 40 I started incorporating meat into my diet.  Not a crazy amount, but I realized I really liked a good steak every now and then.  I ate clean.  Healthy.  Fast forward to present day, 47 year old me.  I’m on the PB&J Crust diet.  It’s when you eat the remnants of your child’s meals to stave off hunger, or, let’s be honest, just because it’s there.  My breakfast intake yesterday consisted of 1 spoonful of yogurt, 1 peanut butter covered slice of banana, and a morsel of spinach banana muffin.  All from the picked over plate of my son.  My lunch was the diet’s namesake, a PB&J crust, plus 1/4 of his unfinished sandwich and a handful of graham bunnies.  Delicious.  No wonder I eat all Willy Nilly the rest of the day.  Now this isn’t everyday.  There are days when I am actually conscious when parenting and make myself egg whites and avocado.   But some days it’s like I am in a trance and what happens between my hand and my mouth is all but a blur.

Now I can tell you for a fact that my younger self would have never let herself eat so poorly.  She would have never let herself gain 5 0r 10 pounds.  It just would not have happened.  But as I age and I don’t have to think about wearing costumes onstage now, I am way more relaxed about what I eat and, in turn, I am more relaxed about what I look like.  I think there will be a limit to my madness.  (Like I’m pretty much there.) But I can’t imagine myself being crazed to be thin, like I was when I was younger.  I remember believing my worth was directly correlated to my appearance.  I suppose, in my line of work, there may have been some truth to that.  But I think I took it further than just work, especially when I was 20 & 30. I think I believed that I was lesser than if I wasn’t aesthetically at my best.  Ah, youth! This 47 year old feels sorry for that silly girl.

Don’t get me wrong.  I want to be healthy.  And power to any mom who gets herself to the gym!  I admire anyone striving to get back their pre baby body.  But I gotta be honest, being over forty puts you at a big disadvantage.  Recovery from anything takes so much longer, let alone pregnancy and childbirth.  Ugh.  This PB&J Crust Diet is all fad and will have to go, for sure. But as long as my clothes fit (cause I LOVE my clothes)  I don’t mind too much if I’m a bit softer.  Well, a lot softer.  I’m the happiest I’ve ever been and it clearly isn’t correlated to my appearance these days.  I guess it just means that my mind is the healthiest it’s ever been.  And I’ll take that.

Until next time,  keep fighting the good fight.  And remember behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks so much for reading! Xoxo

 

 

 

 

Great Expectations: How to Enjoy Disney World With Your Three Year Old

As I write this, I am sat in the window seat of a 747 with my son next to me and my husband on the aisle. We are headed to Florida. Disney World to be exact. I am mildly relieved, thus far, as with only one hour to go, things have gone pretty well. One word. iPad. I think I should write Apple a thank you letter.

I’ve decided the only way to approach this vacation is to anticipate it being the most stressful, horrible, un-relaxing experience I could imagine. That way, anything more positive than that is a win. I think it is the only way to approach ANYTHING with a three year old. That way we are not imposing unrealistic expectations on our son and, somehow, it helps to keep our sanity intact. There will no doubt be backlash later in the day for allowing two hours and forty minutes of screen time, but for now, all is quiet on the O front. And I’ll take it where I can get it.

They say flying in the morning with a child is best. I kind of have to agree. Our son, at least, is the most agreeable early in the day. This ungodly hour (5:30 am takeoff) won’t wear well on us later today, but again, for now, there is a sense of peace and calm. One Bloody Mary each and all seems right with the world and our present situation.

Expecting nothing from the first time you take your child to Disney is easier than it sounds. If we truly expected nothing, we probably wouldn’t go. Or at least we would go somewhere way less expensive. That way the sticker shock wouldn’t slap you across the face and add insult to injury. So as much as we tell ourselves to have no expectations, you kind of just do. And if you are like me and my husband, you grew up going there with your family and you have all sorts of memories and attachments to the place.

I guess I have to remind myself over and over that my child is only 3. I have to try and put myself in his shoes a bit on this trip. If I get tired and overwhelmed, what must he be feeling? If I am hangry (yes, hungry and angry) how does he feel? There is much to enjoy, of course, BUT it’s all new to him! His senses will be on overload, no doubt. It’s entirely unrealistic to expect him to just roll with everything and foolish of me to think it could even be possible.

So these are my self imposed rules: I will try to keep my cool. I will try to let go of any expectations I might have. I will try to take in all the magic of each moment. And, if certain things aren’t quite magical this trip, well, there is always next time. Here’s to a wonderful vacation at Mickey’s house. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Until next time, keep your fingers crossed for me. And remember, behind every great kid is a Mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up. Thanks for reading! Xo

Pink or Blue

“When you ask your child if they are a boy or a girl how does he or she answer you?” This was a question on a progress evaluation for O from a preschool playgroup program he is involved in.
I had never thought to ask him this question. So I followed directions and asked him. His answer was not what I anticipated. So I asked again. And again, he repeated his answer. “I am a boy or a girl.” Maybe he didn’t understand the question? I asked him if his cousin Nora was a girl or a boy. He said, “A girl….or a boy.” Clearly gender is not on his radar yet. At three and a half should it be? I don’t know.

We knew the sex of our child before he was born. It was obvious when we had our amniocentesis and we wanted to know. My practical nature was more than happy to know. We didn’t go crazy with blue for boy stuff, but he did have a nautical themed nursery. It was grays, blues and greens. I dressed him in basically what people gave me….so lots of boy stuff. Onesies with sayings like Handsome like Daddy, Little Slugger. His toys were lots of cars and trucks mixed in with a cooking set and a pink interactive picnic basket he just adored. I honestly didn’t give it much thought. The only hand me downs he got were from other boys, though I would not have minded putting him in a color typically associated with girls. In fact, people always thought he was a girl. “Oh! She’s beautiful!” “Thank you, yes I think he is.” “Oh, I’m so sorry!” (As if they had said something truly awful). I was never phased by it. He was a really pretty baby. I honestly didn’t care if anyone thought he was a girl.

Fast forward to present day in the toy department at Target. It’s a frequent destination on our travels. O has his favorite toys and every visit he will bee line for the “Our Generation doll” aisle. He asks me to help him get the big car (which happens to be pink, as it is marketed towards girls) and the camper so he can play with them. His latest interest is the new laundromat and, of course, the ice cream truck. Have you seen that thing? It really is amazing! He can spend 30 minutes playing with these items. I literally have to coax him away.  He tends to put one of his matchbox cars (which he is rarely without) inside these setups. We sometimes get odd looks from other parents and older children, as if to say, “Why is your boy playing with girl toys?” I don’t acknowledge the looks and they go completely unnoticed by O. I have heard Fathers, after looking at us, tell their sons, “Let’s go look at some boy toys.” I have even heard men and women tell their sons, “You don’t want that. That’s for girls.” The level of ignorance is staggering.

We are so offended at the abundant misogyny in our society. We are so astounded by the gender inequality that is rampant in our culture. And when I say “we” I mean many of us, but certainly not all of us. Yet, aren’t we sort of setting it up right from the start? We have these picture perfect roles for our children to fit into and we seem to unapologetically, and I’m sure, quite innocently, jam it down their throats without much thought to what their thoughts or feelings are (or will) be as they become more gender aware. It starts at these gender reveal parties which seem to be all the rage these days. Pink or blue? The term for these events should really be sex reveal parties, as that is what is actually being revealed. Just because you have a child born with male genitalia, doesn’t mean he is going to identify with being a boy. But if you think about it, the child, before even being born, is being expected to fit into our idea of what his or her identity should be. Blue is for boys. Pink is for girls. It’s just so banal.

You know what I want O to be? Happy. I want him to be so freaking happy and secure in his own skin. I want him to beam joy.  I just can’t see that happening if he isn’t allowed to be his true self, whatever that true self may happen to be. I have many friends, who from a very young age, felt they were different. And from a very young age, knew who they truly were wasn’t going to be accepted by their parents. So they hid their true selves from their families, or they denied their true selves altogether, only to come back to it as an adult with a plethora of issues. I can’t imagine anyone wanting that for their child. And yet…

Because of my theatre background, several people have asked me if we plan on Oliver taking dance or theatre lessons. I don’t know. He is certainly exposed to it. He sees the shows I direct. He sings with both me and my husband. I will let him decide. Just like we will expose him to baseball or other sports.  If he wants, he can play. If he’d rather take dance, then he can do that. If he wants to do both, then fine. He needs to lead us.  I believe that our job is to show him the possibilities. He must choose without feeling he is letting us down by following his own path. I think this starts way earlier than most of us think. (Pink or blue?)

We talk so much about raising girls to be strong. And I support that wholeheartedly. But you rarely hear about raising our sons to be caring and empathetic. Why is that? Why are we so afraid to teach our sons traits that are associated with being female? Won’t it make them better Fathers, husbands and caretakers? Won’t it teach them how to be better men? I think so. But that’s just this Mommy’s opinion. So don’t jump all over me for expressing it. But it’s worth a thought or two, don’t you think?

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid, is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up. Thanks for reading! It’s good to be back. Xo

Back In The Saddle

Well, hello! It has been quite a while, friend. My hiatus from writing just might be over. I have taken a long enough pause to re-group my thoughts, to step away from the rage inspired by ridiculous politics, and to muster the courage to feel that, somehow, perhaps, my words might actually matter. It has been a long needed respite. If you have stayed with me through this nothingness, I’m truly grateful. I couldn’t expect it of any reader. If you are new to my musings, I invite you to go back to the beginning. Take the journey which will lead you to where we are now – an advanced maternal age mother (now of three years) navigating her way through preschool pandemonium. I have matured in my mothering, but the certainty of it all still eludes me. I feel I am now wise enough to know the uncertainty will most likely never go away.

I have not stopped thinking about writing. It has always been at the forefront of my thoughts this past however many months. I’d have to go way back to see exactly how long it has actually been since my last post, but I think it was last May. Even before that, my posts were becoming few and far between. After a gut wrenching election cycle, the state of our nation was really getting me down. It felt like I couldn’t not make every post about something political. That isn’t what I had set out to do. Also, I began teaching voice and acting at a fantastic arts academy. It takes up quite a bit of time for prep work. Time I used to use to write. The teaching has now expanded, which is brilliant, but again, I only have so much time. I chose to let this go for a while. Did I mention that I have matured and realize that I can’t actually do Everything?

I feel ready to give voice to this next phase of motherhood, however tight my time may be. My little O is no longer a baby. (That is super hard to say!) He is 3 1/2 years old. He is tall and full of personality. He has the energy of the Energizer Bunny and the mood swings of Sybil. He is funny, emotional, and all over the place. He is imperfectly perfect. I don’t want to miss chronicling this time in our lives because I am crunched for time or because I get lazy. This blog is ultimately for him. So here I am. Back in the saddle.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight. Remember, behind every great kid is a mother who is pretty sure she is screwing it up. My current life story! Lol. Thanks for reading. Xo

Happy Mother’s Day Mommy

My to do list has hit overload.  Our yard is a disaster.  I am on duty to fix every Lego demolition and Troublesome Truck mishap for the foreseeable future.  (Mothers of little boys will understand).  Yet, on this Mother’s Day weekend,  I feel compelled to take some time to express my gratitude for the greatest gift life has bestowed upon me.  Yup.  Motherhood.  A gift, you say?  Oh yes, indeed.

With all the whining, crying, puking, and so on, I still, undoubtedly, LOVE, that I get to be O’s mom.  I have said it before, but it bears repeating.  This is the best job I have ever had.  And to top it off, there is a day set on the calendar to celebrate it! To honor it!  What? It’s like winning the lottery and then someone sets out a day to bring you another boatload of cash.  I am sure there are some mommys out there thinking “Here she goes.  Jacked out on Baby Magic again! Freaking Pollyanna Mommy!”  Can’t help it though.  I’m just super happy.

I can’t help but wonder if I am happy BECAUSE I understand what a privilege it is to be a mother.  It’s like the rules of gratitude and happiness.  One really begets the other.  What’s that facebook meme I often see on my feed?  The happiest people are not the ones who have everything, but are the ones who believe they do.  Motherhood seems to be a lot like that.  I’m sure it isn’t about having a super awesome child, as we ALL do!! (Am I right?)  I find it very hard to stay stuck in the “poop” of the day, so to speak, when it is so joyous being around my little guy.  He’s hilarious.  And sweet.  And ingenious.  And so fun to be around (99% of the time).  I choose to deal with the 1% of bad and focus on the awesome rest.  Truly, none of it is actually bad.  That’s the wrong word.  A more apt word would be difficult.  But, anything worthwhile has its difficult moments.

It’s funny, but motherhood is nothing like I thought.  It is so so much better.  To be a mother is the most rewarding job, the biggest challenge and the greatest joy of my life.  It gives my life a meaning I didn’t know existed.  I thank O everyday for choosing me to be his mother.  Maybe when he is older I will bring him breakfast in bed and get him a special gift on Mother’s Day…. Oh please! I’m not THAT cracked out on Baby Magic!  I’ll let him think the day is about me.  But I’ll always think to myself how lucky I am to be his Mommy.  Always.

Happy Mother’s Day! Thanks for reading! Keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up! Xoxox

 

A Mother’s View

 

A friend of mine sent me a little blurb on Messenger this week. He was in Mykonos and was fondly remembering the fantastic times we had there. Lots of great food, great wine and lovely views. Mykonos is a truly beautiful island. It is everything you imagine Greece should be….and then some. I spent a lot of time there. All over the Mediterranean, really. I feel I know it so well. The many cafes I have frequented. The fun company I kept. The delightful repose of a lazy afternoon with the sun on my face and wine on my tongue. Is it possible it could seem like yesterday and yet be so far away?

My life is not filled with days in Mykonos anymore. Or touring ancient ruins or magnificent art galleries. My frequent flier miles are actually in jeopardy of becoming inactive.  As I sat today in the Starbuck’s Cafe inside my local Target, I thought of my former life. My son was sitting across from me eating the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I brought with us. I was enjoying my usual dark roast with a splash of vanilla in it. There were big windows looking out to the vast parking lot filled with suburban vehicles and lots of Moms with children in tow. I quietly giggled to myself. So THIS is my view now….THIS is my frequent cafe? Well, yes…..I suppose it is.

Another friend of mine who was also in the business is now a Mom of four beautiful children. She posted something on Facebook about how so many of her friends were going to exciting Broadway openings and how her life seemed so boring in comparison. Now I can’t imagine life with four children is boring, by any stretch of the imagination. It is not quite as glamorous as life on the stage, I’ll give her that.  But I have a hunch she wasn’t truly complaining. She is a rockstar Mom and lives quite the charmed life. She is gaga for her kids and rightfully so. She enjoys them. It is evident. I think she was doing that thing that moms often do. We whine. We complain. But it’s mostly crocodile tears.  We don’t REALLY want Calgon to take us away.  Not for any real length of time.  We have hit the jackpot and if we are smart, we learn to appreciate that fact quite quickly.

As I sat on my uncomfortable aluminum chair in my very basic Starbucks/Target cafe,  I began to wonder… Did I miss my old life? Did I long for more glamorous times? More carefree times? I sipped my basic coffee and let the questions seep in.  The answer is no.  Unequivocally, no.  Then I thought…If I had to give up the life I have now and go back to the life I had before….Would I miss this?   Would I long for the joy my family brings me?  Would I miss the meaningful simplicity of an ordinary day? There is no question.  Of course I would! My heart hurts just thinking about it.

I realize not everyone has been quite as lucky, as perhaps I have been.  I got to to see and experience the world and I enjoyed a very glamorous career.  Had I just kept going, I am sure I would have told you how happy and fulfilled I was.  Because I was.  I didn’t miss what I didn’t know.  But now, after sharing my life with my love and having our child, I feel like life has a new meaning and purpose.  That’s the jackpot I mentioned before.  And trust me, I don’t take any of it for granted.  To find this kind of happiness at this point in my life is the freaking Holy Grail! It’s Mount Everest!

I will never forget my old life.  The breathtaking views from atop Santorini and along the Grand Canal in Venice are ingrained in my mind.  The glamourous costumes I donned were a privilege to wear.  The thrill of performing for thousands of people is in my veins.  My experiences are forever a part of me.  I am grateful for all of it.  I fondly reminisce, but I don’t miss it.  What I would miss is the sweet smell of my little boy’s hair…The sound of his laugh as I tickle him…and the soft kiss from the man who sees me as his one and only.  I’ll be sure to pour a glass of wine, sit out on our deck, watch the sunset and drink to that! Yassas my friends!

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks for reading.  Always. Xo

 

 

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