It’s The Best


Like with anything in life, there are positives and negatives.  This week I want to focus on the positive. The topic: Having children over 40 and why it is the best (in my opinion).  Don’t worry, I’ll also share with you why it is a drag (in my opinion)….just not this week.  This week it’s all about how incredible it is to have a child when you are in your 40’s!

Let’s face it, if you have had a child at 35 or over, you’ve most likely heard all the terrifying warnings and reasons not to.  My first prenatal visit at age 43 was colored with all sorts of possible doom and negative what ifs.  I chose to filter out the gloom.  While I was educated about the risks, I kept the information out of my mind and body.  One of the best things about having a baby in your 40’s (in my opinion) is that you can.  So many women struggle with conception.  If you can get pregnant naturally (or with help) over 40, well, that’s something to celebrate!

All new mothers hear the polite advice from well wishers, time and time again.  My son is 2 and I still get it.  “Enjoy every minute! It goes so fast!”   Well, the main reason I think having a baby in your 40’s is the best (in my opinion), is that you actually do enjoy every minute.  Even when it’s hard, there is a baseline of joy that just can’t be beat.  There is a patience I possess that, for me, has come with age.  I’m certainly not saying that women having children in their 20’s and 30’s don’t enjoy their children.  I can only speak from my experience as a 20 and 30 something.  In my 20’s and 30’s, my life was all about me.  The pace of my life was all about me.  The choices I made were basically all about me.  And I wanted it that way.  I lived my life fully and with purposed abandon.  I travelled the world, fell in and out of love and enjoyed freedom from most responsibility.  It was how it should be for someone at that stage of their life (in my opinion).  Conversely, with the birth of my son came profound responsibility.  And at the age of 44, I welcomed it wholeheartedly.  Someone younger might think my life now is a bore.  The Veuve doesn’t flow as freely (or at all, come to think of it) and my bedtime is often before the curtain used to go up.  The things I possessed and the adoration I sought are not barometers for bliss.  My god! I thought a new pair of Gucci shoes equaled happiness.  Silly girl.  All those things are well and good, but they are not the stuff of life.

I get to do this parenting thing with a full awareness that it goes far too fast.  I don’t wish time away like I used to.   I get to be mature enough to share with my baby, my patience and my understanding of what true happiness really is.  I get to not only enjoy his process, but have the emotional maturity to understand that he is his own person, and that while he is our whole world now, we will not always be his.  I am old enough to know he will have to fail to succeed.  I understand there will come a time to let go.

Anyone who has hit the 40+ mark understands what I am saying.  I’m not saying you don’t have moments of doubt anymore or that you don’t feel like you are screwing up a lot of the time.  That is the nature of parenting in a nutshell. But there is a level of surety and confidence that I bring to my parenting, to my life, that I did not possess in my 20’s or 30’s.  It makes me a better mom.  And THAT is the best thing about having a child over 40 (in my opinion).

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! Xo


Bon Appetit Baby


That’s it.  I’ve had it.  It is time to reign in my picky eater and broaden his horizons.  I will expand my child’s palate or die trying.  Ok, that is a bit dramatic.  But I mean, come on! I refuse to accept that I must only give him pasta,  PB&J, or yogurt, as these are the foods he eats willingly. In my short sightedness to get him to eat, I started giving him only things that he liked.  Day after day….and now it has turned into my toddler refusing to even try anything that looks different.  It is ridiculous. It is my own fault.  And it is time to end this craziness.

I’m not supposing this will be easy.  It is learned behavior on his part, that I have indulged.  He does seem to have an issue with textures, but instead of helping him through that, I let him avoid it.  I could kick myself.  (Hindsight, right?). Now that he is well over the two year mark and in the throws of being a toddler, he can absolutely eat anything and in my opinion, should.  My husband and I are adventurous eaters.  We enjoy different foods, spices, wines and whatnot.  It is unacceptable to me that I will raise a child to be a pedestrian eater.  It just won’t jive with our rhythm at home.  He will need to learn to eat what we eat, and it starts now.  Did I say I know this is going to be difficult?

When O was a baby, the doctor, and pretty much everyone, said, “He will know when he isn’t hungry.  He’ll stop himself.  Babies know when they are full.”  Well that may be true, but I’m not convinced a toddler knows.  My son would eat as many graham bunnies as I gave him.  He would also prefer them for dinner, if I’d allow it.  His new tactic when he doesn’t want to try something is to say “All done.”  So I’ve now started to say, “OK, all done.”  I’ve stopped offering anything else.   Down he goes from the table.  Dinner is over.  No second chances.  He will go to sleep with an empty stomach.  My hope is that he won’t let himself go too hungry.  Right? Harsh, I know.  But I refuse to be a slave to a finicky child.

Last night, we had roasted summer vegetables and turkey kielbasa over brown rice.  It was actually very nice.  O only ate some of the rice.  I wanted him to at least taste the meat and vegetables.  Mind you, there were sweet potatoes and carrots in the veggie mix, which he likes, but because they were in chunks he would not even try them.  Really? It’s maddening.  So, once the rice was picked over, he asked for apple sauce, which was denied.  He followed up with a wail and an “All done!”  I make no fuss over it.  I simply say “OK, all done.”  I take him out of his chair and send him on his way…hungry. Eventually, the stubbornness will yield to hunger, right? Are you thinking that I am a horrible mother now?

In France, children O’s age, sit down for a three course meal, daily.  They eat all sorts of fish, fruits, vegetables and cheeses.  When I say vegetables I don’t mean brocolli with cheese sauce, either.  There are no special dinosaur chicken nuggets sold in grocery stores.  And there aren’t special kid menus in every restaurant featuring the same items: pizza, mac and cheese, and a hotdog.  They are taught from a very young age how to eat and how to appreciate food.   International data collated by the International Association for the Study of Obesity show that 15% of children are overweight in France compared to a whopping 30% in the U.S.  So who is doing it right?

I believe that food is part of our education as people of a civilized society.  To appreciate different tastes and textures is one of life’s pleasures.  Sharing a meal with family and friends, is to be part of something.  It is a learned sense of community and belonging.  Eating is something we need to do for the rest of our lives.  Perhaps it should be something we are educated about and learn to do well.  Anyway, that’s this mama’s two cents.  I’ll let you know how my struggle goes.  Did I mention I don’t anticipate it is going to be easy?

Until next time, while I’ll be rocking in a corner back and forth, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Ah, my life story!  Bon Appetit!

Divided We Fall



It is becoming abundantly clear that there is a significant division in American society.  Huh.  Not everyone thinks like I do.  What a revelation.  Ha.  I believe there has always been a certain amount of disagreement between folks.  The difference is, in today’s internet addicted world of 2016, we have social media to put those views on display.  Facebook, Twitter, and the likes are not often places for healthy debate, but rather, they are a forum to basically state your case, politicize (excuse me, express) yourself, or in some cases, bash, bully and taunt the opposition without having to actually face someone.  It has occurred to me that these forums are not helping us as a society, but polarizing us even more.  We are not listening to the other side.  We are not engaging in conversation.  We are posting and deleting.  Posting and de-friending.   But there is no discussion.  It is pretty one sided, on both sides.

I realized that I have a tendency to not read opposing articles.  I have, at times, erased people from my feed so as not to have to see their viewpoint.  I am wrong.  If I am to understand how we have gotten to this place of such discord, I must first understand where the opposition is coming from.  I can’t just assume that I know.  I must hear the other side’s story.  Because no matter who you are, we all have a story that informs our views.  It has just become so normal for us, as a people, to not have to listen.  We post.  We know how and why we feel the way we feel about the issues.  But what about someone who doesn’t think like me? How do they feel? And why? Everyone’s personal story is a window into those questions.  And I don’t mean the “story” we post for the world to see.  I’m talking about our real personal story.

What I don’t want to happen during this election cycle is to exacerbate the feelings of hate that are festering.  I have many many people whom I love who feel very much the way I do about most of the issues.  And I have dear dear loved ones who feel very differently.  I might not love their views, but I love the person.  Can’t we love the person regardless of their stance on guns or same sex marriage?  That was actually hard for me to write.  The point is, can’t we agree to disagree?  In the pre-Facebook era, we didn’t necessarily know what someone thought about the issues.  We could be blissfully ignorant of someone’s position and simply enjoy them.  Or at least tolerate them.  We aren’t only made up of the thoughts and feeling we have on the issues.  I would venture to say we have more in common than not as human beings.  Things like love of family.  The love of our children.  The sorrow of losing a loved one.  These are commonalities we share.  These are the real things in life.

I am certainly not saying I will turn a blind eye to racism, hate or bullying.  I will not.  There is no place for that in world I want to live in or raise my son in.  As I say to him, “that is unacceptable behavior.” When confronted with someone expressing those views, I will denounce them every time.  Face to face.  On that, I am firm and unmaliable.  I believe it is important to speak up when faced with or being witness to bullying, racism or hateful behavior.  That is an example I need to set for my son.  What I will do though, is listen more. I can try to understand more why someone feels so strongly about their right to own a gun.  Or I can try to understand what is motivating someone’s anti abortion stance.  We all have a right to our opinions and views on the issues.  That is a principle our nation was built on.  We can’t forget that just because our views might be different.  Being racist, hateful a bully or all the above,  is not a viewpoint, it is a failing in character.

I guess I need to have faith that the goodness in people will prevail.  I need to believe that hate won’t win.  I need to believe that the commonalities we share as people and countrymen will pull us through this divide.  I need to believe the world my son will grow up in will be more tolerant, more generous and filled with more brotherly love than the world we live in today.  I will try to make this my last politically charged post.  I will try.  Soapbox busted.  Peace out.

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! Xo