Not another mommy essay… May 7, 2009

As a mother and a writer I often resent the implications that I somehow must limit my writings and thoughts to motherhood – as if I have no more valid experiences that are worthy to mention. Despite the explosion of mom lit that has occurred over these past few years (or maybe I just notice it more now that I am a mother) I am not sure that I really need to read about a mother’s sleepless nights or the struggles she may have at the dinner table. I don’t want to limit my writing to these subjects.

Yet it seems there are many pulls towards keeping some sort of mommy journal that excessively details the lives of my children. And while I don’t want to forget many moments of their lives (although there are already so many that are long gone) I also don’t believe in obsessively documenting every poopy diaper or runny nose in order to share these momentous occurences with others.

While many mommy essayists have a beautiful way of tying their personal experience into a larger, more prosaic picture of child rearing or human behavior – many writers instead seem to focus on whining about how difficulty and horribly un-stimulating motherhood is – to these I say “what exactly did you expect?”

So, while I do write about my children I want to move beyond, to deeper thoughts and connections, and experiences. I would like to write about the whole me and not only one small fraction of my already fragmented self…

Don’t Give Up on the Boys July 19, 2008

My son is 2 1/2. He is the sweetest, cuddliest thing around. Way more cuddly than my daughter was at this age – he still wants to get into bed and snuggle in the morning, which usually gains me an extra 30 -45 minutes of sleep – which I am all for. He also just comes over to me during the day and wants to sit on my lap – with his pacifier in mouth and his head on my shoulder, he is still my little babe…

I want to remember this time for when he is 15 and 16 years old and struggling to put as much space between me and himself as he possibly can, and I don’t want to remember this in order to embarrass him, but instead to remind me that he isn’t all gruff talk and gangling limbs – that underneath all that adolescent awkwardness and angst – he remains a sweet, and sensitive, and confused child. I think too often we just let our boys drift – we go all psycho on our daughters and all of a sudden over analyze their every move and action once they hit about 14, but somehow boys are able to drift right along. 

As I teacher I heard over and over again “Oh, he’s just acting like a boy”, “Boys, will be boys”, which are such hollow empty phrases – when our boys really do deserve better. This attitude is like giving a child a free pass to behave however they want. I don’t agree. I think as a whole we need to hold our boys to higher standards and also keep them closer…

My mother recently acknowledged that she should have spent more time worrying about my brother. She wishes that she had made more time for him, to get to know him better. He is 36 now and married, and while he and my mother do have a relationship, so much of it is simply cordial – there isn’t that knowledge there that comes with asking the deep questions and taking the time to listen.

My brother turned out fine and all that, but it was always my sister and I who were the recipients of those “talks” – which lasted well into adulthood and for the most part which I guess I finally outgrew when I became a mother myself – maybe it was because I finally started behaving better, who knows.  However, my mother and I still talk a lot, about everything under the sun, and maybe part of it can be explained away because as women we do go through similar experiences, but I think if you take that position it is too easy of a cop-out.

The point is my mother regrets all those years when my brother was lost to her – he was always a good kid, played hockey, stayed above water in school – but if he tended to drift around on the weekends, or missed his curfew, or slept most of the day – there was nothing…

I don’t want to be in this position with my son…

The Mother I Am… May 7, 2008

I often wonder what kind of a mother I am. Where do I fit on the spectrum of motherliness? And what exactly is on that spectrum anyway? I say this not because I am insecure in my relationship with my children, but I  wonder what kind of a mother I am in relation to my own mother.

I have been thinking a lot about that lately – about the things my mother did, and didn’t do, and I wonder why she made particular decisions. For example, why did she think it was a good idea for me to get a perm in grade 4? Looking back at family pictures it certainly wasn’t because it was attractive.

I wonder why on earth she didn’t censor the make up choices I made in Grade 7? I mean I realize it was the early 80’s, but come on, the blue frosted eye shadow up to my eyebrows was a bit much! I wonder this particularly because my mother always looked so put together, and I don’t recall seeing any family photos of her with blue eyeshadow up to there!

I also wonder about recent comments my mother has made to me, that she allowed my brother too much freedom, and that she wasn’t there emotionally for him when he most needed it.

I wonder all these things as I slowly engage in the struggle to raise both a daughter and a son. And by struggle I don’t mean in the sense that it is a chore that I could do without. I mean struggle in the sense that not a day goes by that I do not engage in making decisions, and sorting through choices – whose outcomes and resolutions will impact the lives of all involved.

These moments of choice can be overwhelming at times. Moments building upon moments – as each decision rests upon the one that came before - and your destination becomes something that was not recognizable at the outset.

My children are still young, but time has a way of moving at lightning speed once you become the grown up, and I see choices having more weight to bear as the future draws near. I trust that I will be ready to make these decisions as my children grow older, and that they will join me in this journey as they become more able to take part.

However, I am already set to veto the blue eyeshadow…

What are we celebrating? December 13, 2007

What happened to children’s birthday parties?  Whatever happened to having some kids over to your house, or your backyard (maybe to the bowling alley or a movie if you were lucky), playing pin the tail on the donkey, having cake and ice cream, and calling it a day?  When did things change?  I guess it was somewhere between the time I turned twelve and when my daughter started going to birthday parties, which was about six months ago. 

You’ve come a long way humble birthday party!  In all fairness to the birthday party I do live in Manhattan where things are often larger than life and space is at a premium so it is not always possible to have a party in your own home.  However, it seems like kiddie birthday parties are a big thing everywhere – according to the amount of coverage it receives in national magazines. 

This is my first year of the “birthday party”.  My daughter is only four so we are at the cusp of the madness that might descend upon us when it comes to birthday parties.  At least the type of party that is expected of you from the preschool crowd.  First of all it has become necessary to invite the entire class (at 20 kids in my daughter’s class this seems like sheer lunacy) because heaven forbid you would want to upset a child.  Some parents do try to circumvent this by inviting only “all the girls”, or “all the boys” in the class.  It has also become a necessity to invite siblings – both younger and older – and hey, why not bring along both mom and dad at the same time.  This leads to massive amounts, of what I consider to be, “unnecessary people”; a ridiculous amount of junky toys that are disguised as gifts; and turns a four year old’s birthday party into an event that parallels my wedding for the amount of planning that went into the “big day”.

The preschool that my daughter attends suggests that “young children can not handle large parties, therefore it is best to invite two or three friends and to keep activities to a minimum”.  As an educator I agree.  However, it appears that none of the preschool parents listen – as they continue to invite the entire class, and siblings, and parents to the blessed celebration.  The venues tend to become a little crazier each year as well - puppet theaters, painting studio, gymnastics studios, Build-a-Bear.  One family I know rented out a disco for the their daughter’s fifth birthday.  Close to 100 people were there – there was a candy and ice cream bar for children, an open bar for parents, disco dancing lessons, make-up stations – which is all ridiculously ostentatious.  I shudder to think at what the plans might be for her 16th birthday!

I am all for small family celebrations with a few close friends.  Doing dorky things like decorating cupcakes together, and choosing a special meal to cook and eat.   A birthday should definitely be a celebration – but it should have more to do with how your child came into your life – sharing birth stories, or stories from what it felt like the first time you held your child, looking through photo albums together and talking about funny moments from different years – creating a time line, scrapbook or journal that you and your child can add to each year and remark upon the growth – that is what birthdays are all about.  Not the pile of presents, or the over the top party that leaves everyone exhausted, and cranky, and definitely does not honor the child – but only leaves a funny taste in your mouth…. 

Where did all my free time go?… December 10, 2007

Sitting at home alone, I cannot help but think what I might be missing out on.  What do people do after dark?  I guess I used to have an idea, but I don’t think I ever really capitalized on it.  Having all that freedom – before children arrived that is.  What did I used to do?  How did I spend my time? 

I know that I spent a lot of time curled up on our couch watching Law and Order reruns (I can never seem to remember exactly who does what in each episode, therefore I continuously become sucked into watching them over and over again), drinking peppermint tea, and eating some variation of snack food.  I guess occasionally I also must have worked out – either taking my time and going to a yoga class, or trying to fit in a run after work.  But how exactly what was I trying to fit a run into?  What the heck else did I do with my life before I had children?

Sure, I worked – but I became really good, really fast at not bringing my work home with me.  I had a husband – but he was usually too busy working late to include in my evening plans – yes we did have the occasional weeknight dinner together, and I know that he also came home for the odd meal which usually meant I would have to either cook him something to eat, or decide which take out menu to use.
I was also working on my master’s degree – but in retrospect I really wasn’t that busy all of the time – especially compared to the busyness of having children.  The reality of being on call 24/7 differs from work schedules, dinner dates, and assignment deadlines.

Not to denigrate the work of others who do not have children.  They are busy doing important work – leading full lives, enjoying themselves, establishing themselves in their careers and creating relationships.  I don’t take away their busyness and say that it is all pointless compared to the busyness of those with children.  However, I do know that it is just different somehow – and I really do not know what it can be compared to. 

I believe it is the resulting lack of “me” time that is built into your day as a mother that can be the most difficult to accept.  Especially when you had some sort of life, engaged in something fulfilling before you had children.  Independence of career, of financial stability, of coursework, and having the freedom to do what you want with your life are pretty much taken for granted by young women – who are not always prepared for the unending commitment that comes with the birth of your first child.  It takes a great effort to remain your self through the entire process, which I believe is completely important in maintaining your sense of sanity.  But there is no doubt about it, your entire life will change. 

I have likened it to Marine boot camp – where you are completely stripped down to nothing and then slowly built back up again.  I believe this is a necessary process on the path to motherhood, and really fatherhood to for that matter.  It is absolutely amazing how demanding a little 7lb bundle of a baby can be – and how you will adapt your entire life around this little being at the snap of their finger. 

The role of a parent in these early stages is really to render one’s self helpless – to absolutely give yourself over to your child – respond to their every need – let them know that you are there for them.  There is too much talk about spoiling a child by picking them up too much, or by responding to every cry – it is extremely hard to spoil a newborn – they need love unconditionally, as sleep deprived as you may be.  Besides spoiling has more to do with the level of consumer consumption that your child undergoes in their lifetime – how quickly you respond to their requests to “have, have, have” – rather than simply holding your child in the middle of the night when they have had a bad dream.

Now that my children are somewhat older (4 years and 20 months), I do see “me” moments slipping back into my life.  There is now time for sips, and sometimes even cups, of peppermint tea; some mornings I can finish most sections of the newspaper; requests are not as demanding, or at least they can wait, until Mommy is finished reading the page, stirring the soup, brushing her teeth.  I don’t take these moments for granted as I once did – time by myself has become precious – now if I could only do something about those bloody Law & Order reruns!

My own private energy crisis… December 6, 2007

At what age do you lose the ability to leap out of bed and face the day with boundless energy and enthusiasm?  At what age do you all of a sudden find yourself in dire need of a dose of caffeine before you can even contemplate putting together a complete thought?  And trust me some days the dose needs to be heavier than others!

I ask myself these questions as my two children bound into our bedroom – terrier-like – anywhere between the hours of 5:30 a.m. and 7:00 a.m.  A few mornings last week my 20  month old son believed it to be most engaging to begin his day at 4:30 a.m.  Not very thoughtful of him, I say.

I am not that far gone that I have forgotten what it was like to have an endless supply of energy.  I am just not sure when things changed, exactly.  Perhaps, at some point in college.  After all, that is the point in my life when I began to drink copious amounts of coffee.  A self-perpetuating ritual of dumping about half a tin of milk, and equal amounts of sugar into a paper cup.  At least at that point in my life if I didn’t really feel like awakening and going to class I didn’t really have to.  Most of my morning classes were taught in large sections, so unless there was an exam that day no one would notice my absence.  Plus, college was also a time in my life when I could party with the best of them until about 3:00 a.m. or 4:00 a.m. and still make it through the next day on 2 or 3 hours of sleep.  Oh, if only I could have kept some of that energy on reserve.

Prior to having children I often bounded out of bed myself on weekends, much to the annoyance of my husband.  Unless of course we were out drinking the night before – a graduate school custom that we perhaps outgrew a little later than others.  In my previous life as a childless woman – I was often awake at first light.  Now I could easily fall asleep bathed in the atomic glow of the sun at high noon!  Saturdays were often my long-run days (again, this neatly fits into my previous life) and 6:30 a.m. or 7:00 a.m. always seemed like a good time to start – especially in the summer when the heat and humidity always provided an easy excuse not to run at all.

I think the practice of practically mainlining caffeine began with the introduction of children into our sleep patterns.  Having the second child only intensified the need to drink as much coffee in the shortest period of time possible.  I find myself exhausted in the morning.  My children sleep through the night, I generally fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, and on most nights I get at least seven hours of sleep.  That may not sound like much – but trust me in parenting lingo seven hours of uninterrupted sleep is a small slice of heaven.   My energy crisis has less to do with what happens at night, and more with what happens during the day.  Energy is sucked out of me in little fits and bursts – right from the early hours until it is lights out for the kid-lets at 8:00 p.m.  It is all the usual suspects of modern life – combined with children – unanswered emails, phone calls to return, books to read, games to play, articles to write, research to conduct, meals to prep and cook, husbands to look after, relatives to worry about, presents to buy, groceries to order – and so on, and so off.  I am not complaining – I love my kids, I love my life, I just hope that the price of coffee doesn’t go up….

My First Girl’s Weekend… December 1, 2007

So, here I am on my first girl’s weekend.  Okay, it is really a weekend spent with my four year old daughter, but that still counts as a girl’s weekend, right?  The two of us headed up to the Adirondacks yesterday afternoon, leaving my husband and 20 month old son in the city.  My husband was the one to encourage the two of us to come here by our selves,which everyone I have talked to said was, “very brave of him”, but I am not sure what exactly the “brave” part is – it is his son after all,  and nobody tells me how “brave” I am when I spend time alone with the children, but I don’t really expect anyone too – such is the plight of a mother – but I digress…

We had an uneventful drive last night, although we did hit quite a bad snow storm which made conditions a little treacherous for the last 30 miles, but we arrived intact.  After a quick snack, it was bed for both of us.  The morning started slow enough – we slept in until 7:00 (my son generally awakens at 5:30, so trust me 7:00 was a luxury).  My daughter did some crafty things, I had a shower, we waited for some lumber to be delivered, and for someone to come measure our kitchen.  Not much was planned for the afternoon – I thought we would go out for lunch, grab some groceries for dinner, and then go to the nursery to see what we could plant in the Spring, and then go to Main Street and look at some shops. 

Well, we never made it past lunch and the grocery store.  Lunch was a disaster – behavior and attitude wise – from my dear daughter.  Up, and down, and all around!  You would think that we have never eaten in a restaurant before.  Generally, when we do eat out – my daughter is quite content with sticker books, drawing paraphernalia, and the odd children’s book.  However, today she was having none of it.  I had brought along some new little sticker books for her, and my writing journal – hoping to generate some ideas and brainstorm.  I don’t think I need to go into details – I am sure that most parents have experienced very similar situations, and most non-parents have witnessed someone else going through the same experience and have thanked their lucky stars that they do not have children!

The car ride home was not happy – lecturing, and tears, a raised voice on my part, and promises to behave starting “right this minute” on the part of my daughter.  Didn’t feel like buying any of it – so we got groceries and spent the rest of the afternoon at home. 

It was at home that I had my “epiphany”.  I happened to pick up a book that I received for Christmas last year entitled, Graceful Parenting, by Eve M. Dreyfus, M.D.  I was hoping to be inspired for some magazine articles that I hope to submit in the coming weeks.  Instead, what I found were these words that lept out to me -

• children do not purposely misbehave, they are not tyring to hurt you or make your life hard, they are doing the best they can
• you don’t need to yell to get your point across
• don’t expect too much from your child – instead learn what to expect from your child at each age

 All sage advice, which of course I wish I had been reminded of before we went out to lunch!  Upon further reflection there was a lot going on at the lunch that I didn’t acknowledge.  First, my expectations were for a nice, quiet, mature meal – where I could spend some time working – while my daughter entertained herself for part of the meal – she obviously had different expectations.  Second, we sat in a booth with a large bench that was perfect for sliding across and driving your mother crazy – we also sat right next to a glass partition that separated the bar from the restaurant – it was a great temptation to my daughter to stand up and see what was going on in the other room.  Third, she was greatly distracted by a large group where a young girl and her brother were running all over the restaurant (which also drives me crazy, but clearly delighted my daughter).  In reality, my daughter didn’t throw food across the restaurant, she didn’t start screaming like a banshee, and for the most part she stayed in her seat (expect for the peeking across the partition), we even managed to have some funny conversation and giggles – not bad for lunch with a four year old. 

As an educator I know what to expect from young children.  It is difficult to change your thinking  mid-stream when you expect more out of your own child than you know they are really capable of achieving.  As I read the sentences listed above, I reached over to my daughter on the couch, gave her a big hug, and told her I loved her.  Her dimpled smile was what I expected.  We will try again tomorrow – and take our weekend one moment at a time…

Parenting Woes – Juice vs. Water November 29, 2007

I am tired of the discussions that I constantly overhear during drop off at my daughter’s preschool.  For this express reason I have started arriving later and later.  Yesterday I breezed in precisely at 2:30 – just as the children were being let out, but still managed to somehow overhear the insanity!

I have no idea why people become so emotionally attached to what they perceive as being the correct way to parent.  Bizarre topics that have been covered so far – TV (and the moral superiority of those who either don’t have TVs or who don’t allow their children to watch TV – I will save this pet peeve for another post); McDonald’s (and what an evil empire it is); Ferberizing (yet another pet peeve); playdates (why young children need to have a constantly booked schedule is beyond me).  However, it is the inane topic that was under discussion that really drives me crazy – the whole juice-is-evil-and-must-be-kept-under-lock-and-key-never-to-emerge argument.  Which like many of the others listed above should just be put to rest.

One parent who’s children are new to the full day program have apparently been “hounding” their mother to put juice boxes in their lunch cases.  The claim behind this request is that “everyone else has a juice box”.  I sort of just shrug this comment off as my child is one of “those” who has a juice box in her lunch everyday.  One other smug parent has to make the statement that “this obviously cannot be true as her son has water everyday in his lunch”.  I don’t know why this statement bothered me, but it just did.  The implication behind it is that I obviously have no clue what or how to feed children and that clearly by serving my daughter juice everyday I am leading her down the path of either obesity or severe tooth decay.

Let me just say this.  I am a vegan.  I am very conscious of what I put in my mouth and in the mouth’s of my children.  I give my daughter juice, but who the hell really cares.  I don’t condemn what other mother’s feed their children – at least not to their face.  The same mother who so proudly ensures that her son drinks only water at lunch also ensures that he has some sort of cold cut sandwich and a Kellogg’s Nutri-Grain bar everyday -so really where exactly does juice fit on this scale?

For the record I am aware of high fructose corn syrup and the other crap that goes into what passes for “food” and “juice” in the supermarket.  For this reason I do a ton of baking, and cooking, and juicing, and shop at health food stores.  The juice I let my children drink is all natural and the only sugar it has is the natural stuff already found in fruit.  Plus, at home I dilute the juice with water – so there!

Writing out of frustration, rather than any intent to illustrate my superiority as a parent.  Some things I do well, some things not so well.  That is life – and I don’t shove my practices in the face of others -so why don’t we all try to grow up and do the same – unless of course someone asks for advice or direction!