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

WE DON’T DO THAT

I have finally sat down from a day of days. Trying to get O out of the house this morning to get to a car service appointment was like pulling teeth. It’s hot and muggy, so THAT doesn’t help matters. We get to the Kia dealership and for a second time, the playroom for use while you wait with your child, was filthy. Nasty filthy. Sorry Kia, not impressed! Anyway, O was being really good, so I figured while I was on the other side of hell’s creation, we would go to an indoor play area that he loves at the Mall. This is where my rant begins.

As a parent, when I take my child to a play area, playground, you name it, my first priority is to watch my child. On occasion, I have met a friend at a playground, and while we try to chat and catch up, we both have our eyes on our children. We are consistent with guiding our children in play. You know, the basic stuff. Wait your turn…no pushing…no grabbing. This is the mom I want to be friends with. You know why? Cause this Mom understands that a trip to the mall play area isn’t time off for her. It’s not “let’s check my Facebook on my phone and tune out for a few minutes.” Trust me, I know how much we all want some time to ourselves. I am the first one to say it. But this isn’t the time.

Taking your child to a group play area is an opportunity to teach your child how to interact socially with others, through play! I am not talking about helicoptering. I’m talking about guiding when it is clear your child does not know which road to take. If I saw my son push past another child to go first down the slide, I would take him aside and explain that we don’t do that. By WE I mean, a civil kind society, does not do that! If my child just grabbed a toy from another child on the playground, I would explain, yet again, that we don’t do that! We do not just take from others. We can ask if we may use the toy…or if we may take a turn. But we do not just take! What hope do our children have in this world without some guidance?

I have taught O to wait his turn. I have taught him not to go down the slide until it’s all clear. I have taught him that we don’t grab or push. I am under NO illusion that these “rules for play” won’t need to be reiterated time and time again with him. Of course they will. He is two. And he is a child. It is not any child’s fault for their behavior, lack of manners or lack of restraint. They are children. It is not their job to remember the things that will serve them as they grow up in this world. It is the job of the parent to remind them (again and again) until it becomes the child’s second nature.

I was so freaking annoyed at the play area today. Countless parents tuned out, letting their entitled children push past others. Some Moms were hovering, but more engaged in chatting with their mommy friends. I get it. We are starved for connection with another adult. Especially one going through the same trials and tribulations. But your child has decided to continuously walk up the slide and block it while other children are waiting to go down. He is completely disregarding other children; ones that are much younger and smaller than he is. He is now lying on the slide completely blocking its path. This is going on now for a bit of time. You do realize that you can say NO to your child, right? I’m not saying you have to go all Joan Crawford on your kid, but at least a gentle reminder that we don’t do that! Do you really think you are helping your children by not giving them guidance? Do you somehow think you are letting them find their way organically on their own? Or…are you just so unaware and ignorant that you think pushing and taking are good? I tell you, I am still shaking my head.

I have been alarmed at the behavior of parents of all ages, races and socioeconomic backgrounds. This epidemic of lack of respect is a wide spread problem. This sense of entitlement being embedded into children’s minds is happening right there on the playground. It’s plain as day to anyone tuned into it. And parents are just sitting back, checking their phones and letting it grow like the social cancer it is.

Yes, I’m pissed. Cause it’s right in front of me. The problem and the solution.

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.

When You Think Your Toddler Is An A-Hole

Today my snack of choice is green pea crisps. They are baked, gluten free and have enough salt to satiate me without being high in sodium. A good choice of avoidance, I’d say. But the bag is now empty, so my words need to start filling the page. What I am about to say is not very nice. I feel horrible for even thinking it. As if guilt isn’t already part of my standard operating procedure. But here it goes. I don’t always like my toddler. Yes, of course, I love him. I’m grateful for him and can’t imagine my life without him. But sometimes, he can be really unlikable. Geez, Mary. Yeah, whatever. I could have picked a much harsher word to describe this child and his unacceptable behavior, but my husband and his grandparents would no doubt frown upon such language chosen to describe their little angel. I remember a friend of mine saying ” My kids are being such douche bags!” I remember thinking, “Geez, that’s harsh.” (What a judgmental singleton I was.). But now I kinda get it. Cause sometimes it proves oh so true.

With O we have moved into a constant whine, which apparently is reserved just for mommy. It is like nails on a chalkboard. He has started kicking and swatting mommy followed by “Ow!” in a sassy “whatcha gonna do about it” tone. Not to mention ramming Thomas the Tank Engine into the back of mommy’s ankles while I am at the kitchen sink. Some days are far worse than others, obviously. When I say “No” he says “Yes.” When I say “Yes” he says “No.” It’s maddening. It is non sensical. No matter how I address the behavior (ignore, redirect, admonish) it persists. These things are just the tip of the iceberg. I know, I know, he is two. He is testing me. I take cleansing breath after cleansing breath. It’s no wonder I don’t pass out from all the deep breathing. I longingly look at the clock willing my husband to walk through the door. I tell you this, these aren’t the Terrible Twos….they are the A-Hole Years.

Trust me, I don’t feel good about saying this. The tougher it gets, the more I feel like I am failing. Like there are days that I don’t know if I have the strength of character to get through. Days where the fantasy of driving away in my car creeps it’s nasty head into my thoughts. It is shameful. It is humiliating and loathful. Who thinks their child is an a-hole? A two year old, no less. I’m an ungrateful horrible bitch of a mother.

And then I remember three fundamental truths. I am human. I am doing the best I can. And he is just a child. I will get through the day. God willing, I will get another shot at parenting tomorrow. It’s all gonna be ok. And just like Newton’s Third Law of Motion states, his unacceptable behavior will be replaced by an equally and opposing sweet, tender and loving state of being. And just like that, I can forget why I thought he was unlikable….until he dumps an entire jar of oregano all over the floor just because. Or when he empties out my pantry for the umpteenth time leaving a trail of canned and dried goods from the kitchen to the living room. I know it is him exploring and learning, which is why we let it happen, but after episode number 13 on any given day, I’d like to put a lock on the lazy susan. But let’s be realistic, that would be met with a tantrum of tantrums and would only be a battle won, not the war. I pick and choose my parenting battles carefully. The word NO is important. It’s overuse will make it meaningless. I can’t have that. No, the war is with myself, not my child. It is about me finding peace and grace in the maddening mundane chaos. I have gone white water rafting in number 5 conditions. I have hiked mountains. I have performed for audiences of thousands. This, my friend, is much harder.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid (who is, indeed, NOT an asshole) is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up. Thanks for reading. Xo

The Truth Of The Matter

I am sat on a plane flying solo. I’m headed to Florida to take care of some business. I’ll be away from O for 3 days. I’ve done it before. In fact, you might remember, I wrote a blog post about it. I thought leaving him this time would be easier for the sheer fact that I have done it before. But this time it was harder. Much harder. I savored everything about the day we spent together yesterday. I held him tighter when I put him to bed last night.

Recent events in our world make me want to hold him tight and not let go. As if the mass shooting in Orlando was not horrific enough, I then hear about the 2 year old who was snatched up by an alligator at a Walt Disney World resort. His body recovered almost 24 hours later. The nightmarish details are haunting me. A little boy like O. Same age. No doubt, just as inquisitive and just as obsessed with water. Like most any 2 year old boy.

I’ve been to that resort. I’ve been on that beach front. Not in a million years would I ever think that an alligator would be something I’d have to think about. And at night, you would never have seen such a threat. Not even if it was right in front of you. I lived in Florida. I’ve seen many alligators. In my opinion, this wasn’t negligence on the parents part at all. Something like that would be off of anyone’s radar in that setting. I remember back in the 70’s and early 80’s when my parents took us to stay at Disney World, there was actually swimming allowed in that same body of water. We used to water ski in the adjacent Bay Lake. I’m telling you, I would have thought nothing of O wading in the edge of that water. But yet, the threat became a reality for that family. I can’t even wrap my head around the horror.

As a parent, our instinct is to shield, protect and hold tight. At times like these, the instinct is to hold tighter. I have a friend, who in response to the latest gun violence, said she wanted to keep her family in a bubble. I get it. But, of course, it is an impossibility. At some point we have to loosen the grip. At some point we have to hope that the example we set for our child will serve him as he makes his way in the world. Eventually, years from now, God willing, he will soar all on his own, hopefully towards great things and profound happiness. He won’t always be able to hold my hand and I won’t always be able to protect him.

One of the hardest things to swallow about the tragedies of this week, is that, while some tragedies, like the one in Orlando, are man made and preventable, some tragedies are a force of nature and completely unpredictable. You might say, well it could have been avoided. Well, perhaps, if the parents were holding their child tightly, not letting him explore his surroundings. And even then maybe not. But I don’t parent that way. With a watchful eye and often at a small distance, we let O explore. We believe it is important for his development and his intellect. I can tell you, honestly, we could have been in the same scenario as that family from Nebraska. I have cried real tears for those parents. My heart truly aches for them.

I guess the crazy thing to take away from all of this is that no day is promised. We are not entitled to anything more than the moment we are in. As a singleton, I always tried to embrace that ideology. But as a parent, it is a tough idea to digest. We want everything for our child and that includes a bright future. But none of it is guaranteed. That is the truth of the matter. You can scream and shout, you can fight the gun lobby, you can restrict your child from the world, you can hold them so tight they can’t move or you can choose to do nothing. We all have a choice. What we don’t have is a guarantee. Yes, that is the truth.

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 God bless.

Raising A Son To Revere Strong Women

This week I am barraged with stories in the news that make me reflect on how we as a society view women. And I am taken aback. I am perplexed. Saddened. Annoyed. Worried. You would have to live in a hole not to be aware of the Stanford freshman who was convicted of raping an unconscious woman behind a dumpster and was sentenced to only 6 months in jail followed by probation. The crime and details of the trial were abhorrent. Then his father wrote a letter of support to the court that was completely dismissive of his son’s behavior. He actually says that a prison sentence is “A steep price to pay for 20 minutes of action.” He is clearly oblivious. It isn’t overly shocking that his son chose the abusive path he did. I think, what are we teaching our children about respect? Equality? And where are we going wrong?

I look at the headlines regarding our presumptive democratic nominee for President, Hillary Clinton. It’s not just a lack of respect, but actual hate that swarms around her, taking shots at her every turn. The woman has a coat of armor thicker than any man I’ve ever seen. If she was a man, it is a coat of armor that would be admired and revered. But she’s a woman. So she’s a she-devil, not to be trusted, a bitch. It’s the double standard magnified a hundred times. And both men AND women buy into it. I ask you, What are we teaching our kids? Are women not allowed to be strong? As a woman, don’t you want to be smart, strong, and an equal? And, if you are a man, don’t you want a partner who is strong, capable, and your equal? And if you don’t, why not? There is something wrong with the message we are accepting in our society about women and their worth. And I’m taking a stab in the dark here, but it seems to me, the message is perpetuated by those threatened by strong women.

Is it possible that many in our society, men and women alike, are more comfortable with the traditional roles that men and women take on? The woman standing beside her man, supporting him from the sidelines. It’s a non threatening picture, isn’t it? Maybe the dominant female figure is just too uncomfortable for folks. So when a woman puts on a pantsuit, speaks her mind and decides to run for president, it messes up our feng shui. Or when a woman gets sexually assaulted on a college campus (while unconscious) there is sympathy for the rapist, because “his life will never be the one that he dreamed about and worked so hard to achieve.” In what world is that thought process ok? What about the victim? To be clear, I am talking about the woman. What about the impact this horrific act has had on her life? There are still people who believe, however quietly, that women who have been raped, have somehow “asked” for it. During the trial the poor girl was asked what she wore to the party that night. The fact that the question was even posed is proof we are a long long way from gender equality. It disgusts me.

So as a mother of a boy, what can I do to instill a sense of decency, respect and understanding in my child? How do we teach him to treat women as equals, yet educate him on the nuances of females? I’m talking about those minute, and sometimes huge, differences that, at times, make us women seem like another species all together. Equals, but opposites. It seems pretty straight forward in theory. Certainly no mother intends on raising a rapist. So where does it go wrong?

Even at O’s young age of two, people have said in his presence, “Boys will be boys!” That sentiment will surely grow and follow him. It is up to us to define that for him and keep him in balance. I see the way little boys play on the playground and how they are encouraged to be aggressive and tough. It’s just sort of accepted. I don’t love it. There is a sense of entitlement drilled into children in our country these days. There seems to be a lack of the word “NO” in many children’s everyday life. Maybe this is where it begins. I want it, so I should have it. I want it, so I’ll take it. It happens on the playground and I see, many times, it go undetected or completely dismissed. Boys will be boys.

I don’t know what lies ahead in our country. I shudder to think of the possibilities. But this lack of acceptance and complete disregard for other people is just not ok with me. It shouldn’t be ok with anyone. What can we do? As parents we can invoke the change we want to see in our society…with our own child. Sometimes parenting requires the word “No.” We need to love our children enough to say “No, that’s not yours.” Or “No. You can’t do that.” My two year old already knows the phrase “That is unacceptable behavior.” I fear many adults have forgotten it.

Mostly, we need to love our son and teach him the dignity of the body, and how to live through disappointment and confusion. We need to teach our son how to navigate confusing feelings, and how to separate feelings from action. We need to teach him how to communicate and listen. We need to define for him what it is to be a man, because we clearly can’t leave that to the media or public figures. We need to impress upon him that his worth doesn’t come from what he has and takes. O’s biggest influence will be watching how his father treats his mother. And how his mother can be a strong woman who is respected and loved by her husband for her strength and capability. How female strength is not something to be threatened by, or something to be squelched, but rather something to seek in a life partner.

I have a feeling in the coming months leading up to the national election, the attack on the strong female figure will be unlike anything we have ever seen. The language, I’m sure, will be base, crass and dismissive. I highly doubt the buffoon with the bad comb over will choose a different fighting style. I can only imagine what the fallout will be. If you think that kind of sexism on a national platform has no bearing on the way men view women or how women view themselves, you are kidding yourself. Somewhere in the ignorant mind of some entitled teenager, the words spewed by an entitled demagogue, will validate his delusions. If you think it’s just about Hillary, it’s not. It’s about all of us.

I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll be holding my breath till November. Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is certain she is screwing it up. Thanks for reading. Xo

Toddler Madness

There are certain days my patience runs thin. My son is approaching his second birthday. He is in the beginning of the throws of what I am calling toddler madness. This might prove to be the hardest period for us, as his communication skills are still sparse. He says words, yes. But his ability to actually convey specific wants is unhoned, especially the more frustrated he gets. My failure to understand him just adds to his frustration and before I know it, he is in full on the floor tantrum mode. There is no reason or logic to this. It is absolute madness. Hence, my categorical name for this period we are forging into full speed ahead.

Rationally, I know there is usually some reason for these outbursts. He most likely isn’t even aware himself what it might be. And the speculation is vast. It could be that he is hungry. Thirsty. Perhaps his two year molars are giving him a hard time that day. Maybe his shirt is uncomfortable. Maybe….the list goes on. Or, where the real madness comes in, the outburst has no cause. It is not the reaction to anything at all, except the moment hits him and he decides to throw himself on the floor, kick and scream a little, and then, perhaps, get on with his day. Come to think of it…I feel like doing that sometimes. Maybe it’s not so crazy, after all. Hmm.

My pediatrician suggests no parental reaction. She always says, “Don’t encourage any behavior you don’t like by reacting to it.” I’m actually pretty good at being calm in the midst of his storms. Most of the time. It’s the days when the outbursts are mixed with incessant whining, that tax me the most. It’s hard not to react to the whining, though I give it my best shot. At home, I actually walk into another room. I also redirect his attention when he is calm enough. It becomes the hardest to deal with in the car. Both of us trapped in a small space. I can only turn the Hamilton soundtrack up so much.

Mothers who’ve been there…mommys on the same battlefield, I ask you. What do YOU do? And if you had a child who never threw tantrums or whined, keep it to yourself. I don’t even want to know that children like that exist. There isn’t enough Skinny Pop or Two Buck Chuck to get me over that. Thanks. I know every kid is different, but there must be some common thread for how to proactively deal with this “stage of development.” My saving grace at this point is that I am, in fact, an older mom and I have a degree of patience I never would have had 20 years ago. I’m not saying younger Moms can’t have patience. I just know I didn’t have it when I was younger.

The most ironic thing about this stage of “toddler madness,” is how fleeting the madness can be. I can have a morning like today, where the crabby-ness, whining and foot stomping outbursts seemed to have such succession it almost became rhythmic. And then 20 minutes before his nap, my child decides to lovingly stop time. He sits next to me on the couch, lays his head on my shoulder and lets me stroke his hair. For a whole 20 minutes! He may have actually purred. Just when I was ready to give up for the day, he indulges me in his sweet side. Sneaky. Unpredictable. All part of the glorious wonderful madness that is only just beginning.

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! Xo

A Mother’s Day

I’ve never been one for holidays created by greeting card companies. Valentine’s Day is the worst. My husband and I have vowed to never make a big deal of such a day. We believe all our days should be reflective of our love and commitment, and not for one set day because Hallmark dictates it. I know Mother’s Day falls under the same sort of quasi-holiday category, but I have to admit, I feel a bit different about it. To give it equal due, I feel different about Father’s Day, too. So hear me out.

I am not looking for what the advertisers or the media suggest I want. There is no bauble, gadget, or knick knack I am longing for. I don’t want all sorts of money spent on me. I don’t want a day at the spa or a day all to myself to be pampered. I don’t want a weekend away, a maid service to clean the whole house, or some cheesy overpriced greeting card written by some stranger. It’s so much simpler than that. What I would like to celebrate and have acknowledged, is the fact that I try every single day not to ruin the amazing child that by some natural miracle ended up in my care. I’d like a Mother’s Day.

What is that you ask? Well, hold onto your yoga pants. It’s a day where I can sleep uninterrupted for 8+ hours (without having to go to bed at 8pm the night before). I can take a long luxurious bath instead of a quick shower. I would be able to have a bowel movement…all by myself….in peace…uninterupted. Without Thomas the Tank Engine. Or whilst reading The Little Engine That Could. It’s a day that for a whole 24 hours I am NOT the person who touches or cleans up another person’s feces. (To be fair to my husband, he takes on the dirty diapers like a champ when he’s around.) And, most importantly, it’s a day that my husband showers me with words of encouragement and love from his heart. Oh, and he makes me breakfast, lunch and dinner. Now these last two requests actually happen on a regular basis in our home, but they are such a nice part of our day that it only makes sense to include them.

Now I realize that as simple as this day seems in theory, the actual execution of these requests may prove more than difficult. (Lucky for me, my husband is a rock star!) But, perhaps it might seem impossible for some mates. Hence, the bauble or some fancy high priced item. The mate thinks, “how can she be upset with me if I give her _______?” And she won’t be. I mean who gets mad at jewelry or a Coach bag? The retailers are surely happy. Hubby is happy because he dodged a mega parenting bullet. But most likely, it isn’t what she truly wants on this day. If she is anything like me, it most certainly is not.

So Hallmark, Zales, Pandora and all you other retailers and tall tale fabricators….you aren’t on my radar. I could care less about what you have to offer. I don’t know that any woman who stays home everyday with her toddler really wants what you are peddling. As I looked around the library today at story time, I saw the faces of other mothers that seemed to need what I am in need of. We all most likely just want to remember who we actually are. To have a moment to acknowledge our own worth unattached to the non stop job of caregiving. To have a few moments to think of/and for ourselves, all the while knowing that our most precious possession is being cared for by our most precious partner. It’s that simple.

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. Hope you get to have a rockin Mother’s Day. Xo thanks for reading!

The Way Of Life

I lost my Aunt Anneke this week. It wasn’t sudden. She was battling cancer for some time. But still, the finality of any passing startles me, nonetheless. I am grieving. Not so much for her, as I know she is pain free and was most certainly welcomed into heaven with open arms. She was a wonderful, strong, loving woman. Her full bodied, lasting hugs were her trademark that I will cherish in my memories of her. I am grieving for my uncle who was left here on this earth to do the unimaginable. To go on without her. It breaks my heart.

It’s funny that I should have such a bond with this man. He came into my life when I was in my twenties. He had been estranged from my mother and most of our family for all of my young life. His acute alcoholism kept him away from us for years. After he had gotten sober for good, he came back into our lives and I’m so grateful. Oh, the stories he would tell me over a cup of coffee at my parent’s dining room table! I just adore him despite the fact that we could not be more different. Our views on pretty much everything are diametrically opposed. Yup, everything. But his heart is true, his words are real, and he is just my Uncle Ronnie. The fact that he has a special place in his heart for my little O just makes me love him all the more. And now he is alone without his wife, his partner. It is the way of life. He would tell you that. But it is unthinkable.

The landscape of our family keeps changing. My parents, aunts and uncles are in their seventies and eighties. Several have passed already. Actual distance of siblings and cousins has created emotional distance, as well. It is what happens as you get older, I suppose. I guess I just wish it wasn’t happening quite this soon, for O’s sake. I rationalize, as an older mom, that my family is also older. But he is never going to know, or at least remember, many of the family I love. It is then, that which is understood in my head is not so accepted in my heart.

I don’t believe I actually have a point to make with all this. I think I just wanted to talk about my family. I appreciate you letting me do just that. I know this isn’t exactly one of my typical mommy blog posts. But then being a new mom at 46 isn’t exactly typical either. Having a child late in life comes with all sorts of pros and cons. It is so odd watching family become elderly (or succumb to age) while I witness all the newness my son experiences. It is the biggest bag of mixed emotions I’ve known yet. Immense joy colored with the occasional stroke of sadness and grief. I’m sure it is the way of life for most older moms. It was certainly something I didn’t think about before becoming a mother. I suppose, thank God there is the joy. Such joy!

Thank you for reading and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up. Xo

If The Shoe Fits

I was getting X-rays done at the dentist yesterday. Carol, the dental assistant who cleans my teeth and takes said X-rays, was making chit chat. Of course, when you have a toddler who is in the waiting room with Daddy, the small talk tends to be about your child. In this case, O’s presence in the office seemed to bring up some nostalgia for Carol. She started to tell me, as most people do, how fast it all goes. How he will be 21 before I know it. And then she said, “What I wouldn’t give to hold my son as that little infant again.” She cradled her arms and for a second I could see her newborn baby right there in her mind’s eye. She said it was her favorite time of being a mother. I assured her I was enjoying each moment with O….and just smiled. But, I’ll be honest with you, my heart was aching a bit.

I wanted to be able tell her that I could relate. I wanted to say, ” I know the feeling.” But I didn’t know the feeling. When O was a newborn, I couldn’t stop crying. I would hold him in my arms and cry. A lot of that time is truly a blur to me. I had an impulse to share with her my bout with post partum blues, but I didn’t want to rain on her memory and make it about me. I just smiled. But inside I knew I missed something apparently very special with my son in the first several weeks of his life. Something I’ll never get back. Hence, the ache in my heart.

Now I’ve talked a lot about post partum depression and shared most every detail of my story with my readers. So you know that my situation was short lived (thank God). And I am certainly not harping on the past. What’s done is done. I can’t change any of it and I can’t get that time back. I have not beat myself up over it for quite some time now. But, it is important to me that I acknowledge the feeling of loss, however minute it may be perceived to be. With out acknowledging the darkness I was in, I can’t fully appreciate the joy and light I am basking in now. Does that make any sense?

My conversation with this woman was such a sweet memory for her and a true reminder for me to be grateful for where I am presently. I think back to that time and I feel like a completely different person now. It was like I didn’t know how to even walk in the shoes of that new mother. I just hobbled along, stumbling (and crying). And now, I feel so sure footed….like I am sprinting through fields of gold. It’s as if these Mommy Shoes were meant for me. Like they were in my wardrobe all the time, I just didn’t realize it. I guess that is a lot of shoe references. I can’t really even tell you how I wound up here in this amazing place, except that I had the unending support of my husband and I kept putting one foot in front of the other. One day at a time.

O is napping. I sit here in my favorite writing spot in the house. The skylight above me allows the sunshine to stream in onto my lap. There are toy trucks and cars strewn about the sectional. And outside I can hear bees buzzing and buds opening. I’m not missing a thing.

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

I Choose Us

I write a lot about extreme self care and metaphorically putting on your mask before you help those around you. Breathing for yourself so you can be a better mom. As a mother, a huge theme of mine is survival. Motherhood is an awesome, all consuming job, that doesn’t have an end to the work day. Our brains don’t get to shut off and decompress during most days. I am “on” 24/7, even when my husband is home. It’s certainly not for lack of help from him. He is a full hands on Dad. It’s just my Mommy mode. It’s like sleeping with one eye open. I never get to forget I have a child. Not that I would want to, but you get what I’m saying. I have come to realize that my survival plan is short sighted. It doesn’t encompass the big picture.

And so, it occurs to me, sometimes it is not all about MY survival. Nor is it about baby coming first all the time. It’s about the survival of our family. All of us. As a wife, who truly wants and loves this equal partnership I am in, I realize it is not only important, but imperative to sometimes put my partners needs before all else. Yes, I just said that. Before baby and before me. I find that I do a lot to keep myself in balance. I make a conscious effort to seek beauty and positivity every day. I take walks with O. We have adventures and stories and cuddles. It doesn’t always have to be “only me” time to be “me” time. Sometimes my efforts fail me, and that’s when I need assistance, like any normal being.

My husband’s career can’t exactly be called “me” time for him. Although he loves it, it is stressful. And let’s face it, the man is doing it to provide for his family. After all, it is called work. So when does he get to slow down and breathe for himself? He could go to yoga, but that’s never gonna happen. The point is that sometimes we fall out of balance because I am in need of some self care and sometimes we fall out of balance because he is in need of the same. It is my job (and privilege) to help him with that. (Yes, I said privilege and I’ll get back to that.). If it means that I have to give up some of my “only me” time to provide for him, then so be it. Maybe I miss my yoga….when I am in balance, it’s not going to wreck me. I know I’m stronger than that.

You see, to me, the bigger picture is O having two happy, healthy parents who are enjoying raising their child together and who are enjoying their loving partnership. It is about him witnessing a relationship that gives, supports and loves. The stronger we are as a couple, the more secure he will be. The more love he sees, the more he will want to give. I have to look at it like we are the foundation of our family life. If the foundation is cracked (regardless of where the crack lies) our family is on shaky ground. If we are solid, there is no limit to what we (and he) can build upon it.

I say it is my privilege to help my husband, because I am so lucky to have him as my partner. I am not only blessed to share this life with a someone…but with the someone who I truly believe I am meant to be with. There are so many people in this world longing for companionship, for love, for another. I am privileged to take this journey with a beautiful human being….I will not take that for granted.

I often say that O is our world. But in truth it is our family that holds the key to happiness. I can’t be fully happy if my partner is hurting or suffering in any way. As independent as we both are, we work as a unit, not as two independent entities. Our individual balances, triumphs and struggles affect us all. That is what the commitment to partnership means. So I don’t choose ME. I don’t choose O. I choose Us. Every time.

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. Xo

From Gucci To Gerber

Tales, Insights & Observations from an Advanced Maternal Age New Mother

Day to Day Survival