mommyhood

Saying Good-Bye

2009-08-18T12:11:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry you never had the opportunity to meet my friend, Cindy. Cindy was the kind of person who brought 'good things' to everyone who crossed her path. It was a privilege knowing Cindy. It was an honor. She was a blessing in my life and in the lives of everyone she knew.

I just wish I knew she wasn't going to be here forever.

I wish I had called her more often. I wish I had set aside time to frequent the women's gatherings she put together. I wish we had had more in depth conversations about life, dreams, growing and struggling.

Cindy was an amazing woman. She was several years younger than me but she was one of those wise, old souls. Cindy approached every aspect of life with a desire to make it better, to better herself and to overcome any obstacle that stood before her. She was able to see the Divine residing in everyone. It is a gift many of us have not mastered.

Cindy was always looking up and around. Nothing was easy - because it had to be known thoroughly and embraced fully. Everywhere there was room for improvement. She worked so hard - at everything.

You still don't know her, do you?
She had a head of boing-boing brown curls and eyes that twinkled and a sense of humor to make anyone laugh. She analyzed, contemplated and tried to make sense of the world and all the things it presented her with. She was at home wherever she went and she went many places. She was outdoorsy; she didn't care what other people thought; she dressed the way she wanted to and not the way the magazines told her to.

I loved her because she was real and she was comfortable being real. Her insights could change your world, and they changed mine. Cindy was one of my friends who participated in a trial group of - then Mommymorphosis - now SWAK (sanity with a kid), a life coaching program designed to assist moms as they redefine and recreate themselves throughout the journey of motherhood.

We were talking about daily hiccups one day - those little, annoying things in your day that you cannot get rid of - and, somehow, a talk about sweeping the floor led to a discussion on negative self-talk. The entire program transformed before my eyes. Every conversation with Cindy was a MINDFUL CONVERSATION and that's the name of the book I wanted to write with Cindy. Now, I guess, I'll have to write it for her.

Cindy passed away from a heart condition - hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. It was diagnosed during her third trimester of pregnancy, and she died a few weeks after giving birth to her second daughter - Ziva. She thought she would be on medicine the rest of her life. Perhaps she would need a heart transplant. She was feeling better when I spoke with her about a week after Ziva was born. She was in great spirits. She said "you should have seen me a few weeks ago". She was watching her daughter, Bella, swim with her husband, Peter and she was holding Ziva. "She's so precious". And then she had to go - motherly duties called - Bella and Peter were getting out of the pool. I made a note, then, to call her again soon - to be a better friend - to be a friend whose actions represented her feelings. She was such an important part of my life - even though our conversations were infrequent and our visits seemed to happen only when "one of us" got married.

Cindy passed away in Peter's arms. She was lying down because she did not feel well.

Cindy had a zest for life that anyone might envy. She had adventures all over the world. She was out of the box. She was Cindy.

I'm sorry you never had the opportunity to meet her. I hope, though, that you can learn from her.

I think my friend, Alisa, said it even better:

Dear Chevre, It is with deep sadness that I write to tell you about the death of Cindy Feldman Garaj, T47 and madricha for . During her third trimester of pregnancy, Cindy was diagnosed with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, a form of cardiac disease known to cause sudden death. After delivering a healthy baby girl, Ziva, the beta blockers her doctors prescribed seemed to be working and everything seemed to be under control. But tragically and unexpectedly Cindy passed away two weeks later on May 29, 2009.

I can still see Cindy with her wild head of curls, sitting on her bed in Tzvat when I walked in the door to what would be our home for the next three months. I had no idea that wild and wonderful woman would become a beloved friend, a confidante, and a constant reminder that life is meant to be lived with creativity and passion. Cindy found freedom in nature. She cared deeply about the people in her life, about living her life authentically and on her own terms. Everything she did had the creative stamp of Cindy-ness on it. I still have a hand-bound book she made and sent as a surprise. It was meant for us to write our dreams and wishes and we’d send it back and forth to each other. “Dear Alisa,” she writes, “Sometimes I wish for an easier life, but then I try to remember that there are lessons to learn…I guess the biggest struggle I am having is understanding how my attitude/personality effect those around me.” That’s so Cindy. She was driven not just by learning but by striving to always understand – to understand the true nature and needs of her family, of her friends, of her health and wellness (as a yoga instructor and massage therapist) and most often, Cindy in her own words struggled to understand how her life effected those around her and vice versa.

“May her memory be for a blessing.” One of the rabbis at Cindy’s funeral had never met Cindy, but in hearing stories from her family and friends, he understood that Cindy was a sparkling being. When she couldn’t find a mikvah in Aspen, CO, before her wedding, Cindy ‘made’ one in an ice-cold mountain stream in the parking lot of her hotel. When she traveled the world, she sincerely offered, “There’s always room in my backpack for you!” When she met her husband Peter, she found her best friend, mate and future. When she organized a womens’ weekend, the food was abundant, the paints and crayons everywhere to create when the spirit struck you and she was the first to start a spontaneous dance of joy to celebrate the beautiful surroundings. Cindy had a soul that could not be contained or bound by the physical. The rabbi at her funeral said for people who knew and loved her to share their memories about Cindy, and in telling stories from her brief yet full life, in giving her daughters a sense of who their mother was and how very special and unique she was and how very much she loved them – in sharing memories of Cindy, in taking a kind action and dedicating it to Cindy’s memory, in doing that – we would make her memory become a blessing.

At the same time that I, along with all who knew her, grieve a tragic loss, I know I am a better person for having had Cindy Feldman Garaj in my life and the very best way to honor her memory is to practice kindness, give and receive love, and squeeze every juicy moment out of life with creative fervor and zest! The best way to honor Cindy’s life is to make her memory a blessing.

Mother-Life Crisis

2009-02-21T15:01:00.000-08:00

I may be in the midst of a mother-life crisis. There are people - like myself - who live lives of introspection. We like to analyze; we like to think; we like to look at the deeper picture. Frequently, within motherhood, the opportunity to go beneath the surface is not easily entered into. One can spend countless moments contemplating and trying to make spiritual the act of motherhood - childcare, meal preparation, housecleaning, laundry, bill paying, grocery shopping... but to really go within takes time, and time is something moms often do not have a lot of.

Thus enters the Mother-Life Crisis. The ages at which my children now sit make motherhood pass by like an action movie, the scenes go from one to the next with little down time in between. Only in motherhood, there's no ending where we get up stiff-legged from sitting for so long and throw our popcorn boxes in the trash on the way out. Instead, our legs are asleep from bouncing children on them, and the garbage detail is endless as we go from meals to snacks to ripping up paper to more snacks to the next meal to the next snack to cleaning up play doh...

In motherhood, there is always a next scene. We just watch, as the film unreels, from scene to scene - responding to a crisis, a task or a responsibility. Transition or filler scenes are few and far between. I'm not sure how long it's been since I've sat on our couch for a bit of rest and relaxation. It's a "piece" in our house I look at lovingly and longingly but rarely get to actually enjoy.

Creating rhythms and control within the chaos is one of my fortes, and yet - at the same time - I watch as life unfurls around me, bringing in something else that needs attention, mastery and initiation into our family's common rhythm. Sometimes, standing in the eye of the storm is a simple task, and - at other times - it becomes more difficult.

When my exclusive self - the one that flourishes deep inside - is being neglected, the chaos on the outside becomes less manageable. There are times this cannot be prevented and the spirit within must sit patiently waiting to be nurtured and attended to. Often, the weeks pass before the time has opened up again and - it is in those long periods of time - when the mother-life crisis can strike.

In those moments, we stoop down and we wonder what it's all about. What is the purpose? How can we achieve meaning when our pinball machine has too many balls in it? Too many bright lights, loud noises, fast action and unpredictable surprises. But, eventually, we let the ball slip through the flippers and it quiets down for a moment. Such is life. The high pace might last longer than a whirl on the pinball machine, but - eventually - the pace will slow down again. We can feel like we have control of the reigns again. Life comes back to a semblance of order.

Those low moments may not occur very often, but they are forceful and should be anticipated and planned for. If you are pensive and reflective as I am, your spirit cannot take long departures from attention. For me, the stirring within develops in symptoms without. Pay attention, my body beckons me. Ever so quietly, sometimes subtly, I begin to pay attention to my inner needs. I put myself first again.

The State of Our Ecomomy*

2009-02-19T12:51:00.000-08:00

Whether it's the radio, TV or newspaper, people everywhere are moaning about "the state of our economy". The economy reflects the wealth and resources of a country, and the conditions of our economy depend upon the careful management of available resources and the preservation of reserves.

Today on the radio, I overheard a conversation regarding the banking industry. The gentlemen on the radio show stated that they were "burning through our reserves". I'm not exactly sure what or who HE was talking about, but I started thinking about mothers.

With such an emphasis these days on "going green" and ensuring the sustainability of our resources for the future, I have a whole new approach to motherhood and the mastery of its complicated intricacies. A mother is like an economy. :) She must ensure the preservation of her resources and the maintenance of her reserves - patience, energy, innovation, and sanity, among other things.

The sustainability of mothers is, in my humble - humorous and sarcastic - opinion, a crisis of epidemic proportion. To provide for the present without compromising the ability to provide for the future is a major task for any mother.

To avoid a deficit of natural resources and the perpetuation of a successful ecomomy, it is essential for moms to plan ahead, think outside the box, and create strategies to build up reserves in the present. Preservation, sustainability, and energy crisis are all words that stand out in a mother's world.

It is time to set aside the guilt for taking time for herself and - even more so - moms need to dedicate time to figuring out what actions could help fill their reserve tanks - a commodity not needed for immediate use but readily available when required.

Our ecomomy may be in a state of crisis, but there is a lot we can do to prevent future depletions of energy... and patience... and sanity.

*it's not a misspelling

48 Hours

2009-01-31T16:52:00.000-08:00

Last Monday, I went to the ER with ilan for breathing problems. We came home around 1am.
He stayed home from school on Tuesday, returned on Wednesday and stayed home on Thursday and Friday. He was still just not back up to par and not himself and not at 100%.
Throughout those days and throughout the following week, we nebulized when he seemed to need it, worried – mostly at night – that he still wasn’t up to 100% and tried to do some other things to help out – like take it easy, lower our dairy intake and run a humidifier at night.

When his teacher emailed to say she told him to stop running at recess because he was wheezing, I called a chiropractic allergist who is using an applied kiniesiology technique to eliminate allergies. What could it hurt? I am feeling very apprehensive about pumping steroids and meds and inhalers into his body to get him through these episodes.

We had one treatment at the Chiro allergist. We eliminated something that we will not notice the immediate results from. The only “side effect” is that once you eliminate one allergy, other allergies may become stronger because the body moves its attention there.

So, today, the day after the treatment, the school nurse calls me because Ilan feels sick. No fever but his stomach and head hurt. I’m certain it’s related to the respiratory stuff going on. And, I say I’ll come get him…..

Oh… but before all this –
Yesterday, when the teacher emailed me, I called the chiro right away and they said they could get him in that afternoon. It would be easier – they reminded me – if I could bring him alone. I called one friend and she would take Aaron, assuming he would go with her. I had another friend’s son here for the afternoon while she went to Walmart and she said she could take my son home with her… so that’s what she did. Then I just had Ellie to worry about. I did make a few calls – all in the 45 minutes before I had to get the boys from school – but nothing panned out.

It was 3:30 – I should have left to get the boys already and my one friend called. No one picked her girls up from their school so she had to go get them. I said no problem, I’d get Isaac on my way to King David. That’s what I did. Before I arrived at KDS, my other friend called and said Aaron was standing in the corner and wouldn’t go with her, nor would he talk to her.

Apparently, his glasses broke during school. I’m sure this changed his whole day. It also meant we’d have to go to the glasses store because his back-up pair were already broken. But, not that afternoon. So, in a matter of minutes, I was taking everyone with to the chiro.

And, then, our babysitter called. She was one of the people I had left a message for. “Is it too late?” she asked. Perfect timing, I said, I ‘ll meet you at my house. I left Isaac, Ellie and Aaron with Amber and took Ilan (alone) to the chiro.

The appointment – of course – took longer than I thought. It was really dinner time when I was on my way home. David was home. Amber was gone. We went for pizza so, of course, we got home late – baths were not given (luckily Amber bathed Isaac and Ellie earlier that day) and homework was done Scout’s honor while I put Ellie to bed.

So, this morning….
I drop off Aaron at school. David drove Ilan. We arrived within minutes of each other. Ellie, Isaac and I went to the Kosher Market to get a few last minute things for Shabbat. However, I later realized I forgot to get chicken. I took Ellie to school, dropped the groceries off at home, and took Isaac to the ENT to check the fluid levels in his ears. He had a hearing test and his levels and hearing are fine right now. We’ll go back and check again in a few months. I drove with Isaac to pick up Aaron at school. We drove Isaac to school and then I took Aaron to get his glasses fixed and pick out a new pair. After that, I drove Aaron back to school, raced home and cooked as much as I could (a noodle dish, a cake, and a white gazpacho), went back to get Isaac and Ellie at school.

On my way, I received a call from King David. Ilan was in the office with a headache and a stomach ache, no fever (as I said above). I said I’d be there but I was on the way to get the little people so it would be a little while. I got Isaac and Ellie and stopped at Trader Joe’s before heading to KDS (shhhhh). We needed to get chicken for Shabbos or there would be no Shabbos (at this point, I was thinking there wouldn’t be any Shabbos anyway).

I went to get Ilan, trying to call the doctor’s office on the way. With the weekend coming up and breathing being an issue, I didn’t want to wait to see what happened. When I called the doc office at 1:36, the answering service was still connected despite their lunch ending at 1:30. Ilan got in the car. I sat in the parking lot – thinking I’d take Aaron too so I didn’t have to come back AGAIN, but I was waiting to see when the appointment would be.

It was at 2:40. I got Aaron too. With four children, we headed to the doctor – first stopping at home to get milk for Ellie, water for Isaac, put the chicken in the fridge
(marinated it first). I made them all wait in the car.

We went to the doc and Ilan is “fine”, meaning he doesn’t have a virus or anything contagious. Based on his last year’s visits, we noted that he has been on steroids for breathing four times in the last year – that’s a lot! This seasonal change seems to get to him. So, he’s on a steroid, and he’s on Singulair for the next few months until we go back in for a check up.

He’s also going back to the chiro for allergy elimination (I told the doc and she was gung ho) and my hope is that he won’t need Singulair or steroids or a nebulizer. Needless to say, by the time we returned from the doctor – Shabbat was nearly on its way in. Thankfully, most of my Shabbos lunch dishes could be put together on Saturday morning. I ended up throwing rice in the rice cooker, chicken nuggets in the oven – David had chicken I had taken out of the freezer when the craziness came upon us and that was Shabbos dinner.

Shabbos morning, as I’m finishing prep for our lunch meal (including guests), Aaron tells me he has a sore throat. He has just finished his antibiotic for strep throat. I had to call our guests and tell them we were bound for the doctor at 11:30. At 12:45, I had to call and tell them that our lunch was cancelled, but – please – could they come by and pick up food to take home with them.

Oh, this may just seem like a crazy day (48 hours) to you but – don’t forget – in the midst of all of this, there was chasing after ellie and her catastrophes, cleaning the bathroom for guest readiness, vacuuming the floor, cleaning the dining room still dirty from last week’s shabbos, doing the laundry from ellie’s peed on crib sheets, unloading three loads of dishes from the dishwasher so I could load the dinner dishes and get them out of the way, so I could clean the kitchen, dealing with whining children, fighting children, getting children dressed, putting toys away, cleaning ellie’s cottage cheese from the floor, cleaning ellie’s pistachios spilled on the purple couch…….

AND, the week prior – when my husband was out of town – I had an eye doctor appointment to check the pressure in my eye, a mammogram that came back ‘bad enough’ to warrant an ultrasound (everything’s fine), a back to back ear infection for our three-year old, strep throat for the 6-year old, an asthma attack to the emergency room on the Monday after my husband came back with the 7-year old…. So, we’re already coming off of a crazy week.

My car is littered with the backs of stickers, given to us from the many doctor visits. Thankfully, we bought the boys' furniture at Walmart because the fronts (and now the sides) are covered with stickers from every doctor's visit we have ever had. This week has put us over the top. We are going to need to buy a new dresser lest the boys start putting their stickers on the wall (next to the holes they made when they were fixing the wall with their toy hammers).

I am not complaining. I felt this merely needed to be recorded as living testimony that I CAN do it all – whatever all means, in any given situation. ☺ I need to have this down so that I can reread it in moments of quiet to remind myself what I need to be prepared for, to be thankful for the nights when I have time to fold laundry and grateful for the days when all I have to do is clean, shop and make meals.

Mama

2009-01-29T10:27:00.000-08:00

I often feel guilty or wrong or pity-seeking when I make my claim that motherhood stress is harder than job stress. Having been in - both - the working world and the parenting world - I feel like I have solid evidence for my assertion.

Real world stress does not compare to parental stress and maybe that's the final answer. They are two different things. With "real world" stress, you don't often feel guilty for treating a loved one in a way that you would never treat a stranger, or a boss or a co-worker. In the "real world", there are deadlines and budgets and competition and loads of work to get done in a day that is too short. In a mother's reality, there are time constraints and fiscal planning and too little hours in a day to get it all done.

But, at the end of the day - does it matter how much money we brought home or how much we achieved at work? When we pass before G-d after we die, what is it that we are asked? We are judged by how we lived our lives. The pressure, then, for a mother (and father) to ensure that their children live lives filled with good decisions, actions of integrity and meaningful purpose is immense. Not to mention the anxiety when we do not live up to our own expectations and when we do not model that which we want our children to see.

I contemplate the roles of mothers - frequently. I think, as I have in the past, about mothers of yesteryear who had to chop the wood to make a fire to warm the water to wash their hands... and I think about motherhood now. Our roles may be different - difficult in new ways - but the dedication of motherhood is the same year after year.

That devotion is immense in the early years when children are completely dependent upon their parents. Then the children grow up, and a new level of freedom is reached. You observe mothers beginning to do things for themselves - like working out on a regular basis and at a normal time, or going back to school or starting a new job. But, you see them taking time for themselves.

At first, I thought I would feel guilty doing "nothing". And, lately, I realize you have to look at the big picture before you make a judgment. A mother is often nothing but a mother in the early and middle years of her children's lives. The mother part never ends - mom always has to be there - for heartbreaks and simcha planning and surgeries and the birth of grandchildren and anything else that happens in her children's lives.

When the children are older, there is a bit of a reprieve - brief as it may be. There may be a few years, and then mom jumps right back in. This time, perhaps, as grandma. And I see my mom helping out my brothers and I with babysitting and worrying and taking care of things. I also see my mom taking care of her father and my father's mother, both - thank G-d who are in their mid 90's and doing very well. But, they still have greater needs now that they are older and more doctor's appointments. My mom is their caretaker and their chauffeur and their manager and their scheduler...

Her days are filled again with phone calls to check in and driving to appointments and contacting doctors for test results and referrals - between babysitting for her grandchildren, listening to her daughter across the miles ache about her day, having lunch with a friend and - maybe - sitting down to read a book. Her days are often not her own.

Thanks, Mom.... for being my mom... and teaching me - really - truly - what motherhood is supposed to look like.

Once a mom, always a mom. There's no going back.

What Motherhood Really Is...

2009-01-29T10:20:00.000-08:00

Motherhood is a series of peaks and valleys and very rarely do we find ourselves on a plateau. When you have your rhythm down and everything seems to be getting done and you have time for your Self, life is good. Then, suddenly, you realize that you’ve been neglecting something – your passion, your career, your health – and you’re off balance again.

It is a normal part of life, but - within motherhood - it is extreme.

I just called my sister in law and her husband – my brother in law – happened to answer. He is working from home today and was surprised that as he picked up the phone, he heard me saying “Get your jacket and I'll help you put it on.... oh, hi”.

What a mother knows is that as soon as we have a second to pick up the phone and call someone, that second is over by the time the person on the other end of the line answers. We also know the majority of the time we spend on the phone is actually spent talking and responding to our children. “Don’t do that.” “Do you see I’m on the phone? Please wait until I am off.” "What happened? Why is your little sister crying?" "Ellie, get out of the fireplace." "Can you hold on one sec? Isaac hit his head on the ceiling while jumping on the bed."

Motherhood is a unique experience and can only be defined by mothers. I often thought it would be funny to follow mothers around with video cameras all day long. THEN, and only then, you might get a true glimpse of motherhood.

High Maintenance

2009-01-25T20:34:00.000-08:00

The night away was probably not as important, but the day was essential. I am not a high maintenance woman - at least not in the physical world. But, I realized, as I packed my bag for a brief getaway, that I am a high maintenance gal in the spiritual world.

I loaded nine books into my suitcase, three notepads, a notebook and training manual for a committee project, and book of Tehillim (Psalms). I spent the first part of my getaway catching up - I completed entering my January receipts into my IPhone budget recorder. I heated water in the sunbeam hot water heater I brought with me and made some pomegranate raspberry tea. I brought along my new monthly calendar - perfect for tech moms whose lives have been transferred to their phones but who still crave their paper calendars (www.bizzi2go.com), and I entered my year's worth of info into it.

I watched TV, thinking I could sleep as late as I wanted but also aware that I wanted to make good use of my day away. And, indeed, I did.

The committee I'm chairing is at my oldest sons' school, and it's the Green Initiative Committee - our first project being a program of Hazon called Tuv Ha'Aretz. Hazon "works to create a healthier and more sustainable Jewish community - as a step towards a healthier and more sustainable world for all".

Tuv Ha'Aretz is the community supported agriculture (CSA) program, and our school is the first school participant. I am most intrigued and my passion fully ignited by the concept of sustainability. The Head of School recently used that term when he explained to me how he entered the field of education - even before he had his own children. He wanted to do his part to sustain the future of Jewish children - and to ensure that it was done right.

And, here I am - on brief sabbatical - sustaining my sanity, the future of my children and my motherhood strengths - by taking time for my Self. Sometimes we need to go away in order to return to our core. And, while I am not participating in any ritualistic activities or deep meditations as I have done in the past, I am still in the process of finding my way back. Sometimes it takes a tragedy (G-d forbid) to remind us of that which is important and sometimes we just need some peace and quiet.

The evolution of motherhood has brought us to an era where mom's responsibilities, worries and dreams have grown increasingly harsh. And, as I type that, I think to myself "how dare I say that mothers today have it harder than mothers of the past". After all, I do not think that mothers from hundreds of years ago were concerned with "time for themselves" or "going to the spa to unwind" or "a getaway with the girls". Rather, I imagine that there time was all consumed with digging holes to light fires and bake bread or stacking wood to make a fire to heat the house or hoping that there husband would return with food for their children to last through the winter.

But, the fact is - we are where we are now. And, today's mothers often keep the house, raise the children, prepare the food and work for a living. Today's mothers are permitted to dream beyond the scope of their families. Today's mothers require time for refueling, building up their reserves and refocusing on the important things.

What IS life if it is not to ensure that the future will exist for our children? And, how fulfilled can our own lives be if we are living off-purpose? And, how easy is it to fall off track as we get caught up in the mundane activities we must complete and the human emotions we cannot avoid experiencing?

I really enjoyed my time alone. I did not delve too deep while I was gone. But, sometimes I can see enough (at least for now) when snorkeling along the top.

I could do it if only....

2008-12-04T19:56:00.000-08:00

If my children would stop eating crackers - or anything that makes crumbs, for that matter - for the next three days and if no one would take anything out to play with or write with or wear and if everyone would take their shoes off every time they come in the house and put them back on if they are going out of the house and if everyone could just move out for the next two days.... I'll be ready for my husband's 40th birthday party (which is being held on the eve of my 41st birthday).

I am so on top of everything - or, at least I have been - when my children have been out of the house.

Aaaah, but that's what makes the challenge sweet - isn't it? How do you spend quality moments with your children, care for their needs of food, clothes and proper shelter, while maintaining the sense of order you need to maintain your own sanity, and complete special projects (such as birthday party planning where you are creating the sweet table for 100 people) and everyday projects (like PTO volunteering)?

Oh, that's pretty much an everyday struggle - challenge may be a better word - for moms. There's always something. We could always do it "if only...". It always gets done - doesn't it? At least the stuff that really needs to get done?

I always ask myself "what's the next most important thing that has to get done?" And, I do it. I also say "as long as I'm doing something, I'm getting it done." You can't expect more than that, can you?

Breathe In, Scream Out

2008-10-30T21:08:00.000-07:00

What great therapy.
That's all - had to post it.
Love the title.

Full Steam Ahead

2008-09-12T18:32:00.000-07:00

Recently, my business partner and I had a conversation (after two months of not speaking) regarding our commitment to a business we both fully believe in. Why - we keep asking ourselves - are we not moving forward? We tend to get on a roll for several months - maybe even a year - and then, for some reason, we taper off. This has happened over and over again in the four years we have known each other.

We have spent considerable time reworking, perfecting and making changes to a program that we believe is an asset to a mom's life. Why aren't we sharing it with everyone? What is preventing us from taking the next step?

From my own reflections, the next step means a lot more time and energy that - frankly - I'm not sure I have. The next step means putting ourselves out there - to be judged? evaluated? up for rejection? The next step involves another level of commitment - financial, emotional, everything.

But, beyond those things - which might cause anyone to take pause - is the fact that I AM always going full steam ahead. My life has not slowed down. I have not faced a lack of motivation. Rather, the pendulum in my life swings back and forth, and I have noticed that at different times, different parts of my life take precedence. Sometimes it is a conscious decision and sometimes it just happens on its own.

I have been working, for example, on the physical part of my life "pie". I have been trying to get my body, my eating and my self-care at a point of extreme health. I don't want to run low on energy when I am playing with my children. I don't want to watch my body break down because I haven't been taking care of it. And, I don't want to feel fragile emotionally because I don't feel good about myself. So, I have been trying to focus on exercise and eating right and getting enough sleep.

Other pieces of my (life) pie have, obviously, suffered because of it. Since we don't yet have our business up and running with clients knocking down our doors, I suppose letting the business slide was an easy decision.

Recently, in one of my trial groups, we examined the life pie (typically called a wheel, but since I'm talking about eating right, I thought pie was more appropriate) and areas of our lives that were unbalanced. We had to pause in the midst of this conversation and reframe what we were doing. The mothers I was speaking with were becoming depressed and falling into typical patterns of beating themselves up for not doing "enough".

Each segment of the pie that we looked at brought about something "more" we could be doing. We discovered we weren't quite where we wanted to be. After looking at several segments (physical, spiritual, intellectual, etc.), we realized we had a lot of work to do - and that became depressing.

To reframe our experience, we had to take a step back, and we had to realize that life is never "done". We had to look back at all we had accomplished in those areas since becoming mothers. We had to give ourselves credit for where we were. And, we had to acknowledge that having goals to move ourselves somewhere else in the future was a GOOD thing.

There is perfection in imperfection and balance within chaos. A mother plays a delicate and never ending game of balance. Sometimes, she must set things aside in order to focus on other things (like when Dori and I had to set aside our business because one of us was pregnant and completely without brain and ability to make any decisions). Sometimes, we take pause and realize that something that we hold in top priority has sunk to a lower position on our totem pole (like a relationship with a spouse - "his" needs and "our" needs often get misplaced for "their" needs). Sometimes an unconscious decision allows us to start focusing on something that has previously been neglected (like starting back up to school - my children, my home and myself need some extra attention getting back into the rhythm of things).

The point is that our life train can still pull the same number of cars. The engine remains the same, but - perhaps - the order of the cargo changes according to our needs - both acknowledged and subconscious.

It becomes essential to look at that life wheel or pie on a regular basis - to make sure it looks the way you want it to look. It is important not to become depressed when you realize it looks differently than you thought it did - and certainly don't put pressure on yourself to change it overnight. Figure out what you want or need to be different and create a sane and realistic plan for making that happen.

I do not know any mother - even one who has significant help - who does not operate on anything other than FULL STEAM AHEAD. That's just the nature of the beast... I mean, motherhood.

We just need to make sure there is enough coal in the hamper and that our cars are all in a row... and, if they are not, we need to pull into the station and make some changes.

Stock Up on Patience

2008-09-06T14:59:00.000-07:00

I often console friends who are agonizing over their child's after school behavior with these words: "they held it together all day long at school, they can't hold it together any longer".

Home becomes a safe place to unravel. Mom is an easy target for pent up energy. They know they'll still be loved despite their behavior - after all, isn't that what mom always says?

What is it we can do to help our children "hold it together" once they have returned home? Start off with an after-school snack, something with protein, something healthy. Avoid overscheduling activities. After a long day at school, some children just need to relax or play. Invite friends over. Often times, the presence of others help the end of the day crazies. Devote your time to children. Make sure you have completed any daily tasks prior to your children getting home from school. Let after school time be their time.

But, this isn't really about the children. I'm continuing with my prior thoughts - about helping my 6-year old keep it together all week. By the end of the week, it was ME who was wiped out. I had no reserve of patience left. It was a long holiday weekend and on Monday, I was raising my voice and losing my patience. I was no longer able to repeat things five times before I received a response. My "when/then" statements (when you finish taking your shower, you may get a snack) had been repeated so much, there was no longer time to have a snack. His little energy was so zapped, he would go from playing so nicely with his three-year old brother to turning him to tears before I even knew what was going on.

I had held it together all week, I just didn't have anything left. But, that's not acceptable in motherhood. You can't "lose it" with your children. It is not a safe outlet - it is an inappropriate outlet. So, what's a mother to do? How does one stock up on patience, stamina and kindness? And, what happens when you use it all up (again) and you are wiped out?

Hmmm..... I don't really have an answer.... yet.

Practice Makes Progress...

2008-08-31T15:34:00.000-07:00

... is a concept I overheard a dear friend share with her 7-year old daughter. It certainly introduces a better way of thinking than "practice makes perfect". And, it definitely sets our children up for more realistic success and the experience of pleasure during the process of achieving goals. Not to mention - in this fast paced, over-achieving, need to have more society that we are living in, it's nice to give our children a break here and there from the pressure.

From an adult perspective - especially that of a mother - I think it is a rather spiritual concept. I'm thinking specifically of my six-year old son who started kindergarten this year. We chose for him to be the oldest in his class rather than the youngest, and you'll soon know why.

After the start of school this year, I realized that in order to set up an environment where my son could successfully get ready in the morning, I had to rise early enough to get myself ready, finish packing the lunches and get anything else out of the way that I might normally do in the midst of everyone getting ready for school. I learned I couldn't rely on him to follow through on my directions and that the devotion of my time to him was crucial to a smooth morning.

Not only that, I could not dress the two younger ones while he sat next to me getting himself ready. It was essential to interact with him and help him, even though he didn't "need" help. Telling him to get dressed led to distraction, and I'd find him playing with Star Wars figures, building something out of Legos, or coloring in his room. My constant prodding, poking and even yelling still left us behind in the morning schedule, and our stress levels rose high trying to get into the car on time.

Check off charts provided immediate relief but did not sustain us over more than a few days. Setting timers and working as a family to beat the clock worked for only one day. So, I decided that devoted attention was the best way to resolve this problem. And, certainly, it has been.

The flip side of that is - I'm exhausted. Not only do I get a little less sleep because I have to wake up earlier, but it takes a lot of energy to stay focused while helping my son stay focused. If I wander away for a moment to take care of someone else, he will stray from the path of getting ready. I need to be on him, I need to be non-stop, I need to stay on top of the time and making sure everyone else is ready. It requires balance, skill, strategic planning (I do have a two and three year old who actually NEED my help to get ready in the morning) and finesse. It means I often forget to eat breakfast - a meal I never would have skipped before. It means I'm sucking in all his wandering energy while holding him steadily in place.

And, that brings me back to Practice Makes Progress. As I paused at the end of our week of staying on top of the morning schedule to welcome my husband back (after being gone all week) into the routine, I noted he is not actually part of this routine. His presence leads to a bit more chaos and distraction in the morning schedule (excitement to see daddy, play time, telling daddy everything he missed while he was gone, shattered hopes of staying home all day with daddy because we have to go to school and he has to go to work, etc). I have to kick it up a notch and I feel the old anxiety oozing back in. But, we make it. They're at school. And, I'm exhausted.

How can I keep this up? I have to do this again next week? But, practice makes progress. And, Aaron will make progress in his own abilities to get ready in the morning. And, I will make progress with my ability to direct the rhythms of morning readiness. And - beyond that - I will figure out what I need to do to refuel so that I am prepared to perform this routine again and again.

That might entail praying to G-d for my sanity, utilizing energy empowering exercises that my friends and family would roll their eyes at, talking aloud as though being filmed on a reality TV show or pretending my diet root beer is alcoholic.

Whatever the solution may be - practice makes progress. That is all I can expect of my children and that is all I can expect of myself. Thanks, Julie.

It's So Hard to Stop

2008-08-15T06:42:00.000-07:00

Stopping is spiritual.

Have you ever been in a position where you ask your child to stop - stop playing their computer game? stop screaming & running through the house? stop with day time behavior and enter night time behavior?

You ask them to stop (after you've given your 15-minute, 10-minute and 5-minute warnings). You walk out of the room expecting that they will turn off the TV, put their things away and find something else to do. You walk back into the room 10 minutes later and find they are still playing the same game you left them playing.

You get angry. How dare you continue to play. I gave you warning. It doesn't matter if you're in the middle of a game. You knew you had five minutes left, so why would you start another game? Oh, I'm very disappointed.

Well, hold on. Think about your own night time routine. You know you should get to bed by a certain time because you know what time you have to wake up in the morning. How many hours of sleep do you need to function well? I need at least six, but eight will give me the cushion to allot for children waking me up in the middle of the night.

So, WHY do I find myself doing "one more thing" before I retire for the night? It's the same principle as above with our children.... kind of. We're not always engaged in something so fun, but we have things that need to get done. We don't always have time during the day to accomplish all our "things". We feel the pressure and overwhelm with all that we have to do.

But, stopping can be spiritual. Nurturing our bodies, which is what we do when we stop, can feed our soul. Taking the pause that we need will allow us to better accomplish the tasks we need to get done - the most important being - taking care of our children and enjoying our moments with them.

While it may be difficult to stop, we can be a model for our children (even if they don't observe us doing it) by following our own instructions. "It's time to stop. Go to bed. Enjoy some tea. Take a pause and stop doing.... at least for a moment."

The Blessing of a Mom Named Wendy Mogel

2008-07-28T13:20:00.000-07:00

When I first found The Blessings of a Skinned Knee, I purchased several of them and passed them out to friends. This was before I even read past the first chapter. I just knew this was a book worth reading, and I wanted to share it.

I am currently reading it again (out of order) and am particularly fascinated with the chapter on The Blessing of Self Control. These are merely my notes on that chapter - one which I hope to explore more deeply. While I'm curious about the spiritual aspects of motherhood from the mother's point of view, this chapter provides insight into the spiritual essence between parent and child. Here we go - remember, these are the thoughts of the author, Wendy Mogel, with some of my own wording.

Teaching children discipline and self-control is one of the essential tasks of parenthood.

A child's greatest strength (and, perhaps, ours as well) is hidden within his or her worst quality (the yetzer hara or evil inclination).

Removing barriers to allow our children constructive expression of their yetzer hara is our job as a parent.

This is not done merely by proper discipline but also through acceptance of a child's temperament, their limitations and your ability to focus on his or her strengths.

It is important for a parent to know appropriate developmental age-related expectations for their child. Especially today - with so many children being pushed into our competitive, have it all, do many things society - parents lose track of what's really "right" for their children.

Louse Bates Ames has a series of books that outline developmentally appropriate steps for each age level - up to 12, I think. For example, did you know it is common for 7-year olds to enter a phase of morbidity and darkness? Their Rorshack Ink Blot test can look very similar to that of a suicidal adult.

Wendy Mogel is a clinical psychologist and has worked extensively with family issues. She talks about well-intentioned but misguided parents (probaby the ones I referred to above) and how they fall into several categories:
1. we are equal - parents who want to be rational and reasonable with their children
2. on the go - always moving and needing something to do - never relax at home and share quiet time with their children
3. anxious - spend so much time in fearlessness and warning their children about the world's dangers
4. competitive - parents may be frustrated by child's lack of ambition. appearantly, parents are competitive enough for everyone
5. suffering - with unspoken and harboring resentment between spouses, children may also be unhappy
6. me, me, me - children are seen as a personal achievement

Our children will help bring out our very worst parts. For example, a wimpy parent will get walked all over by her children. A moody parent may have to deal with a child who is even moodier.

The importance of the roles we model: if we expect our children to make healthy eating choices, to buckle down with homework right after school or go to sleep when they don't feel tired -then we need to do the same. Sometimes we don't feel like it, do we?

There is a child discussed in this chapter who is described as bossy. She is four years old and she takes charge of the whole family. Mogel helps the family learn to refocus their annoyances as positive traits - something psychotherapists call 'reframing'. Here are some examples:
- stubborn is persistence
- complaining child might be discerning
- shy child is cautious and modest
- picky, nervous or obssessive child is serious and detail-oriented

She then asks parents to assess whether or not their child has sufficient opportunity to express these natural tendencies in constructive ways. Don't set children up to fail by putting them in a situation you know won't work for them. Looking for patterns in the 'unacceptable behavior' will help you to set up situations where your child can succeed.

The bossy four year old was given tasks such as monitoring the family calendar, reminding her mom to turn on the dishwasher at night, to tell her dad to empty his pockets before putting clothes in the hamper and teaching her little sister a new game. She had "real" tasks, too, that involved straightening the magazines, sweeping the front porch and setting the table. But, her yetzer hara was allowed expression in an appropriate and fulfilling manner.

Here is the Jewish twist on discpline and guiding our children:
Avoid using the word always and never. Jewish law permits the performance of certain mitzvot to be imperfect. The obligation is still considered fulfilled.
Judaism places tremendous emphasis on the power of words. We can use words to enrich our children's lives or they can be misused.
When your efforts to set up successful environments, to know your child and his needs, and to focus on what's truly important need the help of more disciplinary measures... here are some guidelines and things to consider -
The proper rebuke offers the child a chance to learn about parental values and standards of behavior.
According to Rashi, an 11th century commentator, the most difficult part of delivering a rebuke is not shaming your child. Protecting others from shame is central to Jewish thinking. Shame causes such great pain that it is likened to murder (oh, great - don't start with any additional mother guilt from that statement - just read it and go on).

There are three types of sin in Judaism:
cheit or inadvertent sin, done by accident: the experience itself is the teacher. If your child forgets her lunch several days in a row, and it is not brought to her - she will learn her lesson. Your effort in the situation involves pushing aside the desire to 'fix it' for her by bringing her lunch to school.
avon committed out of the pull of desire - When rebuking during this type of 'sin', Maimonides offers some advice in the Mishna Torah. Administer the rebuke in private, speak gently and tenderly, and remember you are speaking for the wrongdoer's benefit not to humiliate. Finally, Maimonides says to put the rebuke in the context of your high regard for the person. "You probably didn't think this through" or "this does not become you"
Explain the consequence for the behavior. Evaluate your child's reaction. Resist the argument. Offer an opportunity to make ammends.
Teshuvah means "return" and is an opportunity to return to your best self after having strayed off course. In order to do Teshuvah, you must take action to "right the wrong".

pesha rebellious sin, done with the clear intention of demonstrating to G-d - or parent - that he is not our master

Judaism further says that punishment should only occur if children have been forewarned of what to expect if they misbehave. The Talmud also warns against threatening a child with future harsh punishment.

To find effective punishments, reframe entitlements as privileges. This is one of my favorite parts of the chapter. As parents we get so caught up and begin to take for granted all of the things our children have. They have become expectations and proper gratitude is rarely expressed.
Children are entitled to the basics - food, clothing,shelter and everything else is a privilege.

Change If/Then statements - if you clean up your room, then we'll go the park
to
When/Then statements - when you clean up your room, then we can go to the park
Explain what you need from your child. When you remember to put your clothes in the hamper for three days in a row without my reminder then you'll be able to watch TV in the evening.
Ask your child to repeat what it is you are asking of him or her.

Finally, Judaism teaches us that working on middot (good characteristic traits) is a lifelong process. Raising children help us build our own middot because changing their bad behaviors requires us to do the same with ours.

If we can view parenthood as part of this lifelong growing process of developing positive traits - then every confrontation, every dilemma and every challenge we face is an opportunity for our own growth and development.

You Cannot Postpone a Relationship with Your Spouse until the Laundry is Done

2008-06-16T20:00:00.000-07:00

I'm too tired for you - I have seven loads of laundry to fold, three more to wash, a dishwasher to unload and a sink of dirty dishes to put away. I still have to make the bed from this morning so that we can go to bed tonight, in a bed that's made rather than one with rumpled covers. There are shoes all over the floor, and towels from tonight's bath that need to be hung up, and the dinner table is still covered with dirty dishes, unwanted food and sticky spills that need to be wiped up.

I've been up since five, trying to get my exercise in since that's the only half hour of the day when children are not permeating my life. I still haven't showered, I have emails to return and - oh - that business I've been trying to get going since 2003? Well, I'd like to do some work on it.

I have an article to write for publication which I'm not getting paid for and who knows how many people actually read it and enjoy it aside from my mom; I have a few friends I'd like to call who are going through hard times, and there are several light bulbs in the house that need replacing. Normally, I wouldn't care about the light bulbs, but one of them is the light bulb in the yellow bathroom and our oldest son is afraid to pee with half the light lit up which means he won't get out of bed and he'll end up wetting his bed or - even worse - he'll come into our room and spend the rest of the night kicking me in the back and punching you in the stomach as he thrashes about between us.

I spent my daylight hours dropping off, getting back in the car, dropping another off, getting back in the car, running errands, coming home and unloading the groceries, putting the groceries away as Ellie dumped cereal boxes onto the floor and made calls to foreign places with my cell phone, loading Ellie back in the car to pick up the boys, getting them back in the car to pick up the other boy, getting them back in the car to bring them home so Ellie could nap, listening to Ellie scream for an hour before she fell asleep because I missed the window of perfect nap time b/c we were in the car, finding something so the boys can entertain themselves for the next couple of hours so I can have a moment to clean the breakfast dishes, put away the laundry and make a few phone calls including wellness visits that are months late, canceling the camp that I impulsively signed the boys up for, and paying my iphone bill so I don't receive a late charge.

Instead, I spend the next two hours putting out fires between Isaac and Aaron and Aaron and Ilan, trying to contain them and their tornados to the playroom so I can close the doors and deny there is a mess to be cleaned later if I need to. Two hours go by rather quickly and soon we enter the 'afternoon hours before dinner' that tend to be the most difficult hours of the day. Isaac is exhausted and it's too late for a nap - not that he'd take one. I bounce between his whining, the boys screaming about Ellie taking the toys they are playing with, someone getting hurt during roughhouse play, Isaac peeing in his pants because he won't go to the potty at home without a huge fight, Ellie crying "pee pee" once every fifteen minutes, all children wandering in and out of the kitchen scrounging for food that will ruin their appetite at dinner causing them to be hungry the moment they lay their heads on their pillows, turning night time bed time rituals into a disastrous experience of whining, demanding food and postponing sleep. Which means I begin my night time cleaning later than usual and just pray to tumble into bed before 11, so i can wake up at 5 to begin my day again.

But, first, we have dinner and baths. And the complete mess of - isaac is ready for bed before ellie but there's no way to get him there before putting her down and by the time she goes down, he wants to wait for aaron and ilan and even if i get isaac into his bed prior to 8pm, he wants me to lay with him, to get him three cups of water and comes out of bed several times to check on the rest of the family. When he finally goes down, Aaron and Ilan follow suit soon after, and Ilan comes out within five minutes to go to the bathroom and get a drink of water which leads to peeing in his bed when we forget to wake him to pee before we go to bed, and sometimes even when we do.... which means he'll be sleeping in our room while I air out the mattress, douse it with vinegar and spend 45 minutes online looking for the ultimate cleaning solution for pee on a bed mattress.

So, now we're back to the loads of laundry, the dishes to unload and the clothes on the floor. There's the bathtub to rinse out and the shoes to line up and lunches to prepare for tomorrow. I decide that wiping down the kitchen table is not worth the time since we'll be up in six hours using it again and creating more mess. I peek in on my forum and others at BellaOnline and get caught up in conversations I find useless and meaningless - though I do have my two cents to add. It's 10pm.

And I need to wind down so that I can unwind.

I know it's not fair to postpone our relationship in order to get the laundry done, but I'm too tired to do much else and - at least I'm getting something done while watching CSI. I know I should let the laundry lie and the dishes remain dirty, that I shouldn't watch the minute hand of the clock go 'round and count the hours of potential sleep that are remaining, but I can't help it.

You know what they say about living in the present moment? Well, how do you leave the present moment to make a moment of the present?

Wednesday

2008-05-14T20:32:00.001-07:00

On Yom Kippur, we Jews fast from sundown until sundown. The saying goes that by fasting, we are putting ourselves beyond the physical plain and connecting with our deepest spiritual self.

Anyone who has fasted all day knows that you do not automatically feel more spiritual just because you haven't had breakfast, lunch, dinner or snacks. In fact, quite often, we spend much of the day listening to the rumblings in our stomach, thinking about what will happen if we faint in the middle of services and counting the hours until we can eat bagels, lox, kugel and other decadent jewish food.

The same could go for parenthood, I suppose. Those challenging moments? One could look at them as though they were spiritual tests. Remember the greater good. Who is this life for? What is the deeper meaning? What is most important in life? How can you demonstrate patience, love and compassion during those most difficult moments.

Instead of connecting with the Divine, we often lose our impatience. Slam doors and regret how we raised our voice at our children. We rethink how we SHOULD have responded and berate ourselves for not doing better. We pay attention to the stomach grumblings instead of the light headedness.

Like today, for example. Isaac (almost 3) has not been sleeping well. He's been going to bed at 8 with his older brothers and waking up at 5. Sometimes he'll go back to sleep in our bed for another hour. Frequently, he'll fall asleep in the car and get an afternoon nap. Today, I worked hard to keep him up, planning to put him to bed at an early hour and hoping that he'd get a good night's sleep.

Ellie (20 months) also was robbed of her nap today and I thought she'd turn in early (earlier than usual - she typically goes down by 6:30/7:00). Aaron (a very important 5 3/4) went to play at a friend's house after school. The plan was that I'd take the rest out to ice cream and to the bookstore so Ilan (7) could use a gift card he had.

The chaos at Baskin Robbins should have been a clue - a spiritual clue?

No, actually... the morning excursion to Target was the first clue. I can't recall all the details. It's that dissociative state that allows us mothers to come home from events such as the one this morning and say "now, what was so bad about that?". Well, what I do know is that I started with two children sitting in the shopping cart and I ended up with one child in my arms and one hanging on to the side as I pushed/dragged him along. I had to hang up all the yo yo balls and doodle boards that they took off the hooks while I was putting everything on the belt to pay. And, at one point, Ellie hit her face on the cart while she was playing. She's tough.. but when she decides she's upset, she let's it ALL out. She wailed for most of our journey through Target. And, then Isaac started crying about getting out until I finally let him. Then I spent the next 13 minutes chasing them - telling him not to use the emergency phone, putting back Ellie's selection of a scented candle relaxation set, trying to look for the dishwasher detergent I needed while watching both of them squeal in delight that we were in the mop section. "No, those aren't our mops. Let's go home and clean, ok?" The woman behind me in line smiled. "I remember those days." Oh, yeah. I bet she does. She wouldn't be smiling if she really, truly remembered them.

Back to B & R. They ate ice cream. Ellie would take the spoon of ice cream and slurp it like drinking a milk shake through a straw. She picked the M&M's out of her ice cream and wouldn't eat them mixed together unless I hid it deep within the ice cream. Isaac stood up in the middle of ice cream eating because he had to push his poops out. Everyone in the store knew he had to go because he announced it loudly. He went. He stood up to finish his ice cream but he was bouncing off walls even before he started eating it. He fell a couple of times, whined about not being able to reach his ice cream while he was standing at the table, and finally crawled under my legs to escape from the barrier I had created to keep him in one place. Ilan finished his own double scoop and then ate the rest of Isaac's as well. He tried for Ellie's but I wanted the M&M's frozen in the ice cream. Yum. Spirituality at its finest.

We went to the bookstore and I picked out the birthday presents we needed very quickly. I encouraged Ilan to do the same with his selections but, first, he wanted to flip through a Star Wars sticker book. (good listening) Ellie found an Elmo book ("La La") that she held on to - until the very end when I went to pay for it and there was a romance novel in her hand with Elmo nowhere to be found. Isaac started screaming that his penis hurt. He still had the poopy diaper. Ilan found some books. We left. Another group of people staring at me and probably wondering why mothers ever attempt to go out in public with children.

I didn't have wipes in the car. I knew that. Isaac wanted his diaper changed. I figured a dirty diaper would keep him awake. I wiped him with an extra diaper best I could and put on a clean one until we got home. I mean, until we picked up Aaron and went home. Isaac was crying. He wanted to go home.

I parked the car in the driveway and went to get Aaron. He wanted to stay longer. I wouldn't be able to get him, I said. Ellie and Isaac were bound for sleep soon. He had to find his shoes. He had to pet the dog one last time. He finally got in the car.

Ellie started crying for milk. We're on our way home, I told her. What were we going to have for dinner, I wondered. Something fast and easy.. they ended up eating waffles. But, Ilan wanted scrambled eggs. Then he saw the waffles. They ate a whole box. I spent dinner going back to the toaster to put in two more waffles. Ellie just eats the butter off it and then asks for more. Isaac likes butter - not melted - on his. Aaron just likes syrup, no butter. And, Ilan likes butter, no syrup... but he didn't like waffles until tonight.

Bath and bed. They're so tired. Baths are a whole other story, but this is already going to take 45 minutes to read, and I'm still not sure where the personal growth is going to fit in.

I put Ellie down. She cried - for the first time - EVER! Ok, well, almost ever. She rarely cries when she goes to bed. I had to go back in (just to make sure her foot wasn't caught between the crib rails like it was the other night). I rocked her. I put her down. She cried. I rocked her. I put her down. I let her cry. I went to put Isaac down. He didn't want to go to sleep. I lay down in his bed with him - the bed squashed between the other two beds in the room where ALL the boys sleep. I told him two more minutes. He wanted more water. I said I'd be right back. I went back to Ellie. I rocked her to sleep. This time it worked. Or maybe the next time - I've lost count.

I read to Aaron and Ilan. They would not settle down. I ended reading time. "Get to bed NOW". They ran to bed. Isaac was still up. I gave him his water. I tucked them all in. I said good night. I wanted to exercise. I had three loads of laundry to fold. I needed to veg out. There was loud laughter from the other side of the house. It was Isaac jumping on Ilan's bed. "It's bed time. That means no laughing, no talking, just laying." After repeating this scenario three times, I took Isaac into my room and put him on the bed. But, I wanted to be in my room. Aargh! I went to finish the dishes.

I brought Isaac back to his bed. Aaron was asleep. Sweet Aaron. Until 6am when he wakes up - no matter what. Ilan couldn't sleep. Never can. He always feels "funny" around 9:00pm. I said that was ok - the best thing to do was lie in bed - same as every other night. Isaac was finally asleep. Sweet Isaac. Until 5:00am when he always wakes up and comes in our bed - if he's not already there - to sleep one more hour. And, there goes Ilan. Just in time to wake him up to pee so he doesn't wet his bed.

Oh, look. David is home. The house is so nice and quiet, he said. "SSSSSHHHHH!" I cried.

I got into bed and prayed to G-d. "Please don't let this ever happen again."
And, G-d answered with.... Thursday.

Five Things You Should Know About Sanctity in Motherhood

2008-05-08T12:38:00.000-07:00

*Please Note: I said SANCTITY, not SANITY. The latter, I am still trying to figure out.

1. my inner piece will lead to your inner peace

By now, every mother has heard the adage about putting on her own oxygen mask before putting on her child's when in an airplane experiencing difficulties.
We're TOLD to do this. We're told we NEED to do this. But, it's still not an easy path. We still don’t feel encouraged to actually follow through with the process. And what does the process entail in the first place? I have to figure out who my inner piece or self IS. And, that can be a long process – especially when you’re trying to find time in the midst of diaper changing and laundry and cooking and cleaning and chasing and – you get the point. No one has outlined this process for mothers. Because they can’t. One woman’s process is another woman’s nightmare. Each individual must commit the time and energy to figure out what it is that permits her to make a connection with a Divine force in the universe. My business partner, for example, feels a connection when she goes to synagogue. I do not. I feel a deeper connection when I am hiking out in nature or participating in a retreat where I am inspired to be a better person.
Regardless… if you want to find the inner piece and, thus, the inner peace… you will have to:
a) define your path to get there
b) start carving out time to walk on the path
c) manage the incessant guilt that will be alongside the path
d) maintain whatever it is you discovered that defines you and allows you to feel connected to something outside of motherhood

2. it's a slower paced journey in a faster paced world

Lately, I have been observing many of my friends (most of whom are younger than me and who have fewer children than me) climbing to a new plateau of life. They are more relaxed (though still just as busy), are going back to work or creating their own businesses and have time to devote to themselves. They don’t have to worry about scheduling doctor’s appointments around naptime or finding babysitters so they can attend another child’s performance in the school play. They don’t have to maneuver their time so they can ensure that everything gets done.

When people say to me “I don’t know how you do it.” I reply with “I don’t know how you do it.” I may have a couple more balls in my pinball machine, but we’re all bouncing, right?

Any mother with children (do you know any without?) “slows down a bit” after she has children. It’s quite the contradiction, isn’t it? Because in reality, she has never moved so fast or accomplished so much in so little time ever before in her life.

What’s slowing down is the ego-laden life we are accustomed to living. All our time and energy could be devoted to ourselves. Even volunteering at the soup kitchen makes US (our ego) feel good. Then comes this being and your life is devoted to another not just because you chose to marry him (which, statistics say, only 50% will remain committed in the end).

Your own life journey (another paradox) slows down – at least on the surface – when actually you are gathering all this raw data for change and growth and learning and transformation. You just don't realize how much personal growth and divine inspiration you are acquiring when you are in the midst of mothering.

I watch some of my friends and wonder if they feel guilty taking tennis lessons and going to cooking classes, working out and having lunch with friends while their children labor at school and their partners labor at work. But, when I stop looking at the bigger picture and look at it from a microscopic lens, I see it completely differently.

After a long, hard day... I'm so overwhelmed, exhausted and tired of being touched that I need to sit and do nothing. That does not mean going to sleep - before I can even go to sleep, I have to wind down before I can unwind. So, when these women are taking classes and getting their nails done and enjoying a little time... really, they're winding down from the years of servitude and complete dependence from their little ones.

Oh, I can't wait to embrace the next level of parenthood and the spiritual growth that comes with it.

3. the ‘panes’ of labor provide an unknowing glimpse into your future

If only we knew. People tell you beforehand about the lack of sleep and to enjoy your free time. But, we are really incapable of grasping the true meaning behind their words.

After all, we all had our late-night days where we got such little sleep. But, we survived, and we caught up on sleep during the weekend. What do you mean we won’t be able to do that anymore?

Each labor is different. It is an unknown – even if you went so far as to plan it out and think about what you wanted your labor/delivery to look like. You just never know. And, that’s pretty much the truest outlook of your future too. You just never know.

There is a lot of pain – as you watch your children struggle through physical ailments and growing up pains. There is pain as you make mistakes that impact your children or react with actions you instantly regret.

Through the pain, however, comes the birth. And what gloriousness is that? The amazing connection with something bigger than yourself… how could that possibly have grown and thrived inside of me? And, how the heck did it get out? Did I really do that? I can’t stand to be shocked when someone rubs their feet on the carpet and touches me. Yet, I made it through four child births - one without drugs. I must have grown from those experiences (and I don't mind the extra 15 pounds I can't seem to get rid of or the wider-than-usual hips that now don my body).

The pain of child birth leads us in ways we could never have imagined.

Transformation. Perspective. Attitude. Connection.

4. Either you can brood or you can drink pina coladas

Spirituality has a lot to do with attitude. With the proper perspective and the right dose of alcohol, any mother can manage what life has to dole out. Imagine how much different folding laundry would be with a cute little umbrella drink in one hand. You don’t even have to drink it – just hold it.

My friend, Robin, and I used to smoke pretzel sticks when we were younger. We didn’t even light them, we just dragged on them. I tried that the other day when I was listening to my boys fighting over who got to use Daddy’s new set of socket wrenches. I just pulled out my little box of pretzel sticks, broke one in half to use as a match and lit one up. I sat at the kitchen table with my slippers and a diet root beer and watched calmly as the three boys ripped apart the pipes under my kitchen sink.

Remaining calm in the middle of life's chaotic moments is CERTAINLY a skill only the spiritually connected can manage. We mothers may have to find creative avenues to achieve that sense of calm, but we are certainly capable of doing it!

5. there IS spirituality in motherhood

If you’ve never thought about it before, then think about this… how often do you pray to G-d that your husband will arrive home on time at night? How frequently do you find yourself praying that you can get in and out of the grocery store without anyone hitting each other? Without anyone throwing a tantrum? Or without forgetting something on your grocery list and having to go back? Have you said “Please, G-d, let my screaming baby fall asleep without
me having to go in there 50 times.”? How about praying to G-d that the doctor comes in to the examining room QUICKLY?

There are also those moments of praying to your child and – in essence – attempting to appeal to the divine spark within them: “PLEASE, pretty PLEASE hurry up going to the bathroom. Isaac and Ellie are playing in the garbage cans.” “PLEASE quiet down so I can finish this phone conversation with the school administrator, telling him why you belong in kindergarten next
year.” “PLEASE listen to me the first time I tell you something. We can add three hours to our day if I didn’t have to repeat myself so much.” “PLEASE eighteen-month old daughter. Stop making your three year old and five year old brothers cry. PLEASE stop “high-ya”ing them.”

Praying is an act of spirituality.

So, while sanity may be missing from the lives of many mothers, I think we can all declare that we are deeply spiritual beings!

The Divnity Within Motherhood

2008-05-07T20:59:00.000-07:00

And, I thought my spirituality was a separate entity from my expression of Judaism... I just wasn't feeling spiritually inspired from my separate dishes or preparing for Pesach or paying the tuition of a Jewish day school.

But, today, I went to a class led by the Rabbi of my shul. We are in the midst of the Counting of the Omer - the time beginning on the second day of Passover and lasting until Shavuot. Passover marks the time of our physical liberation, our exodus from Egypt, and Shavuot is the day we received the Torah from G-d.

The Omer, which we are in the midst of, is a time of "mourning" for the Jews. This marks the time Rabbi Akiva lost 24,000 of his students - in one month. Every time there is a "community mourning" in Judaism - such as this current time and that which occurs to commemorate the destruction of the Bait Hamikdash (Temple) - our lesson is one of interpersonal relationships.

It is a time to set aside our "ego" and connect with our "soul". "You cannot have a relationship with G-d," Rabbi Shoshan said, "unless you have relationships with people."

What's funny is that I began my conversations about spirituality with a friend last night and continued in another conversation with my business partner today, right before the class.

In a conversation stemming from the exploration of self-judgment and how that plays a role in our lives, we determined that the first step into spirituality (within motherhood, of course) is to be in a "judgment free zone".

Now, you have to understand what this means - because without judgment, we would have no movement, no personal development, no growth - and that's not exactly the kind of life most of us want.

Just by the nature of being human, we judge. You have to judge things in order to be able to determine if something is right for you or not. When you make a decision about what is right for you, you are making a judgment that the other choices are "wrong".

We also cannot avoid passing judgment about our own actions and - we, mothers - tend to be very critical of ourselves. It is difficult to survive unjudged in this world of "fast paced we can and will do it all". We can - no doubt about it. But, that doesn't come without consequences.

Essentially, what needs to take place is an observation - or awareness - as my business partner was told by her Life Coach. We need to observe our judgments and let them go. We need to monitor our judgments and attempt to phrase them in the positive and not the negative. And, as I recently read somewhere, we need to give ourselves credit each day for all that we've done rather than beat ourselves up for all that we did wrong.

Setting aside our ego is part of that first step into spirituality. And, for mothers, that is something that occurs naturally the second you became a mother. The ego-driven life we are accustomed to living is altered. We now have this being who depends on us for everything, and we are required to set aside our own "needs" to respond to the needs of the baby. A mother relinquishes some of her ego-driven behavior almost by default and, at the same time, may feel resentment (subconsciously or consciously) in regards to this change.

This is where the struggle within motherhood begins to take place. Our identities are completely transformed. We are entering this world of deep giving, bigger purpose and less control... is that spirituality? We begin to redefine ourselves. And, if we do it right - meaning, we go beyond the ego-self and it's needs - we may be able to embrace the divinity that exists in motherhood.

If what my Rabbi said is true and it's all about interpersonal relationships - there is no better learning platform than the relationship of mother and child.

We're on our way.

I'm Going In...

2008-04-26T15:31:00.000-07:00

I have been known to say that "motherhood is a spiritual journey - so incredibly deep that I cannot quite put my finger on it or tell you anything concrete that would indicate I am a woman/mother of great depth".

I have also happily created and am eager to devote more of my time to my life coaching business ON THE VERGE OF ME (www.onthevergeofme.com) which focuses on balance, sanity and finding oneself within motherhood (my words - not the word of our business - go to the website for that).

The two abruptly collided while I was in Utah at Red Mountain Spa (www.redmountainspa.com) celebrating the 40th birthday of my friend-sister of 37 years. I had a Native American Card Reading done while I was there. I won't go into the fascinating details but it boils down to - "You're spiritually depleted."

Eureka! That was the feeling I experienced when she said that to me. Duh! Here I am working so hard on maintaining balance (while also acknowledging that there is typically something out of balance because there is always something to work on - we're never done), and I "completely forgot about my spiritual self".

How do I find it, define it and nurture it? That is the remaining question.

The definition I like best for spiritual is "showing great refinement and concern for the higher things in life". But, just as finding a website, a book, or a thought on spirituality and motherhood are nearly impossible, coming up with a definition of what spirituality truly means and how to make it active in your life is just as difficult.

Spirit, according to the dictionary on my computer, "is a vital force that characterizes someone as being alive". Certainly, you don't need to possess a concern for the higher things in life in order to have spirit within. And, what are the "higher things" that are referred to in the above definition?

In my earlier years, I read books such as The Way of the Peaceful Warrior, The Celestine Prophecy and Mutant Message. I felt they all nurtured my soul, gave me greater purpose and made me feel connected to something larger than myself. They were life-transforming, inspirational and contained messages I wanted to ring true from my own life.

Later, I read The Tao of Pooh, The Rich Man's Secret and The Alchemist. With my mouth open wide, I said "yes, this is what life is about." But, I'm not sure I can pinpoint the changes that came from reading those books.

Does there need to be a conscious transformation in order to experience growth from reading a book? And, what kind of spiritual growth does reading these books actually stimulate? I still feel a fondness toward them and a tie that connects me. I know they played an important part in my life and the development of who I am? But, who am I? Did motherhood erase all that I was? Perhaps, I should start reading them again - from the beginning.

More recently, I've read The Mother Dance and I Was a Better Mother Before I Had Kids. I'm not sure if they've been spiritually motivating, but they have been a refreshing, entertaining and supportive look at motherhood.

So, where does the spirituality lie within motherhood? How does one connect with her inner essence while changing diapers? And, who isn't too tired to recall their ultimate purpose when dragging their toddler back to his bed for the tenth time in 23 minutes? And, how do you remain connected with something greater than yourself when your Self has been touched, prodded and poked since 5am in the morning, when your Self - in the one minute you had alone - fell asleep watching Rachael Ray on TV only to be awoken by the prodding and poking of a child who escaped from his crib, when your Self has been cooking, cleaning, driving, straightening, chasing, laundering while simultaneously making decisions for the all-important future of someone whose fate lies in your hands?

Recently, I tried standing in yoga position while doing the dishes. I ended up being the enemy in a Star Wars reenactment with my 7-year old and trying to maintain my balance while lowering my arms to fire. I also tried chanting while making my bed. But, my almost 3-year old thought I was playing a game of Air Guitar Hero and started singing "Slow Ride" louder than I could chant. Tomorrow, I was thinking about leading a guided meditation for the family. But, every time I tell my children to close their eyes and go to their happy place, they start screaming about wanting to go to Disney Land.

So, the task at hand is a hefty one - to a) define what spirituality is, b) determine how to bring it to the forefront in the everyday life of a mother, and c) build a bridge between the two.

Get ready - because we're going in - in deep.

the 7-year old still has young funnies

2008-04-11T20:21:00.000-07:00

Tonight, David held out a spoon and asked Ilan if he wanted some (sorbet). Ilan replied, "I don't like roseberry sorbet." :)

Just when I thought he was too old for the young funnies.

Isaac wants to eat the "hula loops" that we bought for passover. (fruit loops)
He also had a pain in his hube the other day - that is the rear part of the hip.

Aaron likes to read the book "Hippos Go Deserk". Every time I read Beserk, he corrects me.

I told Isaac this morning that we had to go pick up some papers from Mr House. He asked some questions that I didn't quite understand and grunted my answers as I do when he does his typical non-stop, often nonsensical chatter. When we pulled up and parked in front of the building, he asked, "Where's his face?"
Then it hit me. He thought we were going to see Mr. House, a house. "Oh.", I said, "Mr House is a person, not a building. Isn't that silly? A person is named House."
He was very pleased to meet Mr House.

##!!%%!!!

2008-03-28T14:37:00.000-07:00

When a mother reaches out from a bad day, it is only another mother who can fully understand her. When she tries to describe the incidents and moments that brought her to the brink of insanity, she is incapable of helping the listener to feel what she felt in that moment. Unless, of course, the listener is another mother. In that case, the mere sound of exasperation draws out memories of similar moments.

“Oh, yes. I know those days,” she might say. She is able to recall how devastating the moments can be, how much energy they take to get through, how it takes everything she has not to lose it. She can surely empathize, but when you’re not in the moment, you can’t truly feel it. And, that’s a good thing – or the mommies in the moment would have no one to call.

I recently started writing a column for a far-reaching women’s website. I am the editor for a particular component of the site and part of my responsibilities are to participate in a forum connected to my site’s topic. It is also beneficial for me to participate in other topic’s forums.

When you enter the forums of BellaOnline, recent posts are listed in the right-hand column. Often, the topic titles sound interesting to me, and I click on them. Quite often, in the last few weeks, the titles that I have found intriguing have led me to the CF forum – that’s child-free, for those of you who don’t know.

For a while, I read the topic on “why do you WANT to have children?” and felt like a voyeur, reading the inner thoughts and outer judgments of married women who do not have children. I felt the aggravation they went through when people continuously asked them when they were going to have children or told them how selfish they were for not wanting children. Some of the posts lashed out at the child-rearing women of the world who wanted children because “that’s what you do after you get married” or “they wanted someone to be there to take care of them when they were older” or “they wanted to leave behind a legacy”.

I couldn’t take it anymore. My response went something like this: “Hi Everyone. I’m a bit nervous to be posting here. I have four children ages 7, almost 6, almost 3 and 18 months (am I scaring you already?). I just wanted to say that I do not understand the choice of not wanting children, but I do not judge it. I also think that the reasons your friends are giving you for having children sound ridiculous and shallow. Perhaps, if they thought longer, there reasons would lie a bit deeper. Then again, perhaps not. I always knew I wanted to have children. I enjoyed babysitting, working at summer camps and helping underprivileged and difficult children from an early age…. “ I went on to give my own personal reasons for wanting to be a mother and raise children. You can think of your own reasons.

I also went on to say that my experience with motherhood has been a profoundly deep spiritual journey – one that I cannot quite name in concrete terms – but that it challenges all of my weaknesses and causes me to think about my actions on a much deeper level. Because I do not have a lot of free time, I have to really think about the things that are important to me and ensure that I carve out time for them. I do not have the luxury of just going through the motions with no identified purpose or goal.

I thanked them for allowing me to be a part of the conversation and hoped that I provided them with some new insight. That conversation is STILL going on. It has gone from thanking me for sharing to complaints about mothers with children not having time to recycle (why are we recycling, the CF women say, when we don’t even have children to save the planet for), to women talking about how they have time to volunteer and give to charity and give to the community and raise stranded dogs because they do not have children and the subsequent financial responsibilities to worry about.

Is it conversation? Is it defensiveness? Do people with children really judge that CF people that harshly? From my perspective, I made up my mind to have children and I don’t really need to list the reasons why for anyone. I’m confident enough with my decision that what you think really doesn’t matter to me. Is it because I am in the majority that the situation is not difficult? Is it the same as the annoying question “trying for a girl?” that I kept getting when I was pregnant the fourth time? (we had three boys first)… If that’s the case, you come up with your smart ass comeback and be done with it “no, we’re trying for twin boys.” I didn’t feel the need to list all the reasons WHY I was not specifically trying for a girl.

All that being said, did I mention that I don’t much like being a mother today? It has been an overwhelming, stress filled, crying child makes you leave the store without buying anything, get nothing done, children bickering with each other, me just kind of standing there dumb-witted kind of day…. But I never once thought that I’d like to be child-free. I just don’t care for my job today. I’m tired. My children are driving me crazy. I’m losing my patience and not entirely happy with my reactions. But, this is life… and it’s just a bad day.

When Do They Grow Out of the Young Funny?

2008-03-05T19:38:00.000-08:00

I haven't written in a while. I posted something that I wrote awhile ago, but I haven't actually written anything new. Does that mean my humorous life as a mother is over? Does it mean my children are no longer cute, delightful and challenging? Does it mean I've been so overwhelmed I haven't been able to think about writing? Or is life overwrought with bad mommy moments I'm too embarrassed to post here?

Isaac (2) likes to say "yay-ha" like a cowboy. He tells me I'm a princess every time I wear a skirt. Oh, and he likes to put on a princess dress and high heel princess shoes and wave his wand around. The other day, he was on one side of the mini-van and I was on the other. I had a dirty diaper that I tossed through the mini-van and out the other door so I could pick it up on my way in. He happened to be playing with a bicycle near where the diaper landed. Right as the diaper flew toward him and landed at his feet, he pushed a "button" on the bicycle. As the diaper landed, Isaac said, "Whoa! That was amazing. I pushed the button and this came."

I told Isaac to blow his sitter a kiss as she was leaving. He leaned in to kiss her, so she leaned i too. And, Isaac blew.

That same sitter was holding Isaac as his mouth was full of food. Isaac was trying to talk and was stuttering, and Amber told him to "spit it out." He did.

Aaron (5... and three quarters) has his own fantastic vocabulary and a great mind. David - my husband - told Aaron that he had the same brain as him - the same chemistry, meaning that they think in the same way and sometimes it's a good thing and sometimes it's not. Aaron asked David to write that down so he wouldn't forget.

Aaron likes to put croakidges (cartridges) in the V-Smile when he plays video games.

The other night, Aaron came into the kitchen and asked me how to spell "do" as in "I do not". I told him and he left. He returned, asking how to spell "not" as in "I do not like". He left and came back. "How do you spell like?" I told him and he left again. He came back once more with a sign in his hand that said "I DO NOT LIKE MOMMY", and asked for some tape and for me to help him hang the sign. (I had said no to something earlier, and he was mad). I did not help him hang the sign, explaining that it was mean and I was not going to give him MY tape to hang his sign. I understood that he was angry but I couldn't help him with the sign. He left the room and returned a few minutes later with a sign that said "I love Mommy" with a nice pink heart next to mommy.

Ellie is 16 months. She has no trouble surviving with three older brothers - in fact, she rules the roost, torments them and can make three of them cry whenever she chooses. Ellie climbs up onto the fireplace ledge as the boys did - but she actually goes in and plays with the soot if we don't move fast enough. She touches the light switch as she watches you approach, and then when you get really close to her, she licks it. She likes to play outside and the second you walk outside, she books down the sidewalk to the street. We have a small child-sized couch in front of our larger couch in the family room. She pushes the small one up against the big one and climbs on up. She climbs onto the little tables too and step stools and storage boxes... and then she grunts until you realize she is calling you because she needs help getting down. We call her Trouble, affectionately, of course, and she sure likes to cause it.

Ilan may be leaving that Young-Funny stage. His innocence is still very present but it comes across in the way he thinks about life. Like, right now, he is raising money for a School Walk for Diabetes, and he wrote his own letter to everyone explaining why he is doing it. He thinks it all through and believes if he can raise his money, then they can get rid of diabetes (if we had enough people who believed that, we probably could).

When he did a book report on puffer fish, he was asked how a puffer fish might get out of a cave or a tunnel if they swam into one. Ilan responded "with their eyes." duh.

Last April (just to show you it's fading), Ilan was eating dinner and said, "Mommy, I think there's something wrong with me."
"What Ilan?" I asked.
"Well," he replied, " whenever I eat a hotdog, I take a bite and I think about it, and I feel like I'm eating very slowly but then I look down and it's gone."
I suggested he start eating two hotdogs for dinner instead of one.

Oh, they are funny! And, I know that I will regret not writing down ALL the funny things they do and say. They each have journals (well, not Ellie - I haven't bought her one yet) and my intention was to write all this stuff down in them. But, I haven't done so in awhile... as you can tell from my Ilan story from last April.

I hope he keeps the Young-Funny for a bit longer. And, I hope I keep the Before-Forty-Brain and remember to write the Funnies down so I can enjoy them over and over.

Serious Stuff

2008-03-05T04:48:00.000-08:00

If you're looking for a good laugh (at my expense), read no further. This is serious stuff!

I am on my way back from a 7-day retreat ~ away from children, responsibilities, household tasks, phone calls, lunch making, driving to school, driving from school...etc.

I am returning to a day that begins by 5am if not sooner and "ends", hopefully, by 8pm (which just means all children are sleeping but doesn't mean it will last through the night). After 8pm comes, I finish cleaning the kitchen, folding the laundry, returning email, completing work assignments, making lunches..... if you're a mom - you understand.

Going away for a week was a gift from my husband in honor of my upcoming 40th birthday.

The desire - and subsequently - the need to get away began as December 6th (my birthday) was fast approaching, and I realized I hadn't achieved the personal goals I set out for myself... things like regular exercise, eating healthy, and losing the rest of the baby weight I've been carrying with me the last almost-seven years. I was finding it difficult to achieve my goals and was becoming increasingly desperate to succeed.

I decided to do a 5-day juice fast led by Jill Schneider, a woman who healed herself of malignant cervical cancer through fasting. The fast was taking place in Georgia - my old stomping ground from grad school days - and was a perfect setting for me.

But, I'm not writing to tell you to do a juice fast (though you should). I am writing as a mom who advocates for a mother's self care and commitment to maintaining her identity within motherhood. In my day to day life, I feel like I spend a lot of time focusing on this but my week away was....

TRANSFORMATIONAL

The second I set foot on the plane and realized I was free from obligation, entertaining, working my schedule around the needs of my children - I felt different. I had time to contemplate. As with anything, when we are in the midst of something, it is difficult to obtain a proper view. An elephant in the living room - if you were flat up against it, would it look like an elephant or a gray wall? We often don't realize what a blurry view we are getting.

I knew I needed a break. By the end of the day, I was exhausted (still am - but in a different way). I often didn't have the energy to finish my daily tasks. I didn't have the space or the vision to remember who I was, what I liked to do or what I needed to nurture my self.

So, I'm writing this post (which I'm going to abruptly end) to say that as much as I have advocated for mom self-care in the past, I am going to increase my efforts 100-fold. Because, not only have I learned that it is crucial for your sanity. I have also learned that - upon returning - you are now two weeks behind (doesn't matter how long you were gone for) on laundry, phone calls, homework, children's need, cleaning the house, talking with your husband, etc.... and that the desperate need to "get away" will return much sooner than you would have ever thought.

This is a Test. This is Only a Test.

2008-02-06T04:59:00.000-08:00

My time was interrupted by lunchtime. Ellie was up, and my babysitter was still out with Isaac. So it was Ellie, me and a jar of peas. I didn’t want to waste any time – my motto is “As long as I’m doing something, I’m getting it done.” So, I brought over my lunch and decided to interview her.

I posed my first question. “What exactly is spirituality?” She ignored me and looked outside. Or, was that her answer?

My babysitter returned and took Ellie from me. I was left to my own demise. I thought M&M’s might help. They didn’t. I had been struggling with this one for awhile.

My spirituality is kept in a big, green box on the top shelf of the closet in my daughter’s bedroom. It contains records of my soul searching, dreams of changing the world and memoirs of events that I had found spiritually uplifting.

Probably the most extraordinary and life changing event that occurred in my life was the births of my children. Not for the physical experience of birthing and raising children (though that was and continues to be pretty intense) but for the spiritual experience of which I, still, cannot quite put my finger on.

What I do know is that my children observe intently and learn immensely from every action I make. And, that means I have a lot of work to do improving the way I live and ensuring that I am living according to the values I believe in.

I want my children to learn from me - how to respond appropriately when they feel so angry they could explode. I want them to watch me as I take action in the community standing up for the things I believe in. I want them to hear me communicating in a way that allows them to feel comfortable and unafraid of words. I want them to believe that their purpose in this world has a lot do with how they relate to others, what contributions they make to the generations after them and that the bigger picture - though harder to see – is often more important. These are life long lessons and ones I continue to face on a daily basis.

I don’t want my children to feel the wrath of their impatient mama. I don’t want them to be afraid of getting yelled at if they do something wrong. I don’t want them to wonder if their mommy and daddy love each other. I want my children to feel a calm and peacefulness whenever they are in their home. I want them to be ok with making mistakes. I want them to feel they can explore life in their own unique way. I want them to always know how much their mommy and daddy love them.

I don’t want my children to be envious of what other children have or get to do. I don’t want my children to do things only because someone asks them to. I don’t want my children to be waited on hand and foot or to get everything they ask for.

I want to teach my children to appreciate whatever it is that they have- no matter how much or how little. I want my children to take the initiative and to do mitzvoth (good deeds) for others. I want my children to learn that life has rewards and life has disappointments and they can live successfully through both.

Teaching my children how to live and how to strive for higher ground is a difficult task. Therein lies the spiritual journey of motherhood and the harsh reality that we don’t always pay attention to daily life, nor live up to our own expectations. Within the ordinary are such extraordinary moments – each one containing invaluable impact on the generations to follow. Life is the test and finding spirituality is the means with which to survive.

It is a few hours later and my sitter has left. Isaac is asleep and Ellie won’t nap. I didn’t quite reach my thoughts yet. I think the answers lie in the Hershey’s Kisses I’m about to eat....

Don’t cry over spilled peas. Life will hand you many messes. A wet paper towel can clean most of them up in a jiffy.

If you scream loud enough and long enough, someone will answer.

Explore the world as though you are seeing it for the first time. Each moment is a new moment in life and we have the opportunity to seize it or let it pass us by.

It takes persistence to master a task. Whether it’s learning to hold a spoon or learning to be awake through life, success takes persistence.

Balance is hard. Unless you have a big rump like my third born son, it’s not so easy to maintain balance. You have to work at, keep trying and changing positions and make adjustments when necessary.

If you can laugh, you stop crying. We have to take any event and transform it into something that will enable us to grow.

Explore. There are always new things to discover, and things look different from different viewpoints.

Family is important. It’s your foundation for all your life lessons and whether you have bad experiences or good experiences– there is still a lesson inside.

Strong communication is important and so is learning how others around you communicate – what is said and not said, how it is said, what you think someone means and what they really meant.

Pulling hair is not a successful outcome of conflict.

A poopy diaper is just a poopy diaper. There is nothing spiritual about it.

JUST DISCOVERED: Greatest Cleaning Tip Ever

2007-09-24T12:42:00.000-07:00

WOW! My house smells great. It looks clean! And, I hardly did anything. Here are the simple steps to acquiring what I have:

Step One: Put your lemon scented Mr Clean in a bucket and mix with water.

Step Two: Locate an empty 18 gallon (or above) sized tupperware.

Step Three: Walk around the house and put any stray items in the Tupperware container (to be put away later, of course)

Step Four: Sweep (quickly). There is a great sense of accomplishment from sweeping a pile into a dustpan. Watch how good you feel once you're done.

You're done!
By now, the bucket of lemon scented Mr. Clean has permeated the entire house. You can move it to your laundry room and allow it to continue to spread its long lasting scent.

If you feel really ambitious, you can even mop an area or two of your house. No need to do the whole thing ~ just a little makes the house smell and look great!

Title Renamed: JUST DISCOVERED: Greatest Cleaning TRICK Ever

"If Mom Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy"

2007-09-20T12:10:00.001-07:00

Recently, I was invited to participate in a community conference for women put on by a local organization. The conference title was "The Oys and Joys of Parenting" and the part I was to be involved with was called "The Revolving Door Syndrome: Stepping Out of Existing Patterns". The goal was to provide practical tips to moms in order that they might walk away with some concrete ideas on how to bring more joy into daily life.

I should have paused when I first read the title of "my" section. "Stepping Out of Existing Patterns" doesn't necessarily speak to the goal of helping moms put more FUN into their days. And, after our first couple of meetings, I should have paused again.

I was asked to take the title and brainstorm (on the spot) how I would go about leading this segment of the conference. My brainstorm was then merged with whatever ideas already existed and I was asked to go to it. Start creating a list of ideas we can share with moms. I talked to friends. I sent out a mass email recruiting creative, FUN ideas. I spent hours at night researching ideas from Mommy websites.

When I'm asked to participate in something, I don't say yes unless I'm going to give it my all. All you need to do is mention MOTHERHOOD, and I'm on board (at least until now). As of yesterday, I have been asked to remove myself from the conference committee. It appears (and I suppose I should agree) that I am on a different page.

Part of my problem is that I asked for clarification of what page we were supposed to be on in the first place. It was my feeling that the direction we were going was not the intended direction as I understood it. The task of coming up with practical, FUN ideas to share with moms turned into suggestions such as: "creating a family cheer" (if you think this is a good idea, you should stop reading right now. you don't belong here) or "surprise your child with a treat or a note in their lunch". Now, the latter is not necessarily a bad idea but does a mother really need to be told to do that?

My dilemma turned into the focus of the actions suggested. They were set up to put a smile on the child's face. How might this benefit the mother? "A happy child leads to a happy mother", I was told. (or vice versa, I added) But, I'm not really into creating a world where my child always has to be happy so that my day goes much better. I am more interested in providing ideas for the MOTHER to use to manage the day to day tasks of motherhood with a good attitude, to provide innovative and FUN ideas to get her through those moments... the OYS that were mentioned above.

One of the women on this committee made a suggestion to another mom who was having a difficult time getting her children to sit down (all at once) for breakfast. She suggested setting the table with a fun tablecloth, buying paper goods and inviting the children to a breakfast party. This, in my opinion, was something FUN for the children as well as useful for the mother. From that, one may even come up with other ideas to be used on a daily basis to assist with the difficulty of gathering everyone at the breakfast table.

I suppose there is a reason for everything. This experience has led me to throw out every how to get your child to sleep, eat, behave, listen, love you book that I own. Why can't parenting just be parenting? My mom didn't have all these crazy books that she had to refer to before she made a decision about what kind of shoes to buy me when I was crawling or to help her determine which stroller would be most ergonomically correct for my growing spine or how to balance life with three children born in five years.

Why does so much work and effort have to put into adding a little JOY into the lives of your children or into your own life, for that matter. We get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily living, we forget to take pause to do the little things that mean so much.

Why do we need to be trained on Nurtured Heart Parenting or Parent Effectiveness Training or Parenting with one eye closed, one hand behind your back and one foot dragging one small cling-on child? I'd like to see the research that says "this parenting technique is the one that puts more children into Harvard than any other" or "children who have been parented with this technique and ONLY this technique are more successful in later life".

Don't get me wrong. I love hearing new ideas; I talk to my friends about what they do in certain parenting situations, I call my mom for ideas all the time. I value learning and I model that for my children as well. What it all boils down to - in my eyes - is that we need to LOVE our children, we need to FOCUS on the things that are important in life and learn to BALANCE those things with the mundane responsibilities we all have and we need to MODEL for our children the VALUES we feel will help them become successfully functioning human beings in the greater society!

100 Extra

2007-08-21T06:20:00.000-07:00

"It hurt me a hundred times extra", Ilan said to me this morning as he began to describe WHY his injury from last night was worse than your typical injury. "I landed here and here," as he pointed to the side of his thigh and his face, "but because of the power of the aggressor (his friend, Ben) and the way I landed (he demonstrated) and how fast I was moving, it was 100 times worse."

Prior to the injury, as the boys were deciding the rules for this wrestling/fighting/swording game, my friend Susie and I continuously said "stop/no good/bad choice/etc" and then shrugged and waited for the injured party to arrive. As it turned out, it was Ilan, the oldest of the bunch.

As Ilan went on to describe the scene at the injury, the other people involved... etc - his words melted together and all I heard (loud and clear) was "VELOCITY times FORCE times ACCELERATION = INJURY TIMES A HUNDRED."

WHAT? How does this little six year old brain think of these things? The detail. The description. The thought behind what happened. Behind Ilan's voice was the ringing of my husband's - his deep understanding of everything and his ability to describe it all to anyone who will listen, his curiosity and need to search for the answer to every question asked, down to the pickiest detail, and about stuff that makes you turn your head and ask "You think about that? How did you even know to think about that?"

Aaaah, the things I'm going to learn as we go deeper into the year of first grade.

Life Lessons in Laundry

2007-08-12T06:12:00.000-07:00

One "surefire" (according to the rules of motherhood) way to get things done around the house is to involve your children. I decided to test this theory the other day with my almost five year old. I had many baskets of laundry to fold.

We set out folding laundry, and I passed him the dish towels which he would fold into rectangles and then squares. I was surprisingly impressed with his work. But, then he eyed the bed sheets. "I want to fold those", he stated - no fear in his voice (personally, I'm terrified of the sheets, especially the fitted ones).

I decided to give him a shot at it. He was so thrilled with his results, he wanted to fold another... and another.... and another. I started calculating how much time it would take me to refold the sheets, how much time I had just wasted inviting my child to participate in this folding task with me and when I'd be able to refold the sheets so Aaron wouldn't observe me doing it.

And, then, I stopped. Who really cares about wrinkled sheets, or clothing, for that matter? (except my husband) They just wrinkle back up when you sit in your car for 20 minutes in the 100+ degree heat in Arizona.... so what does it matter if you put them on already wrinkled? In my book, that's a time saver! Likewise, with sheets. I'm just going to stretch them across the bed anyways. They'll straighten out then. As long as I can put the abstractly folded sheets onto the shelf in the closet where they belong without taking up space from some other towels, sheets or extra piece of clothes' property - it will be ok.

I smiled at Aaron and thanked him for folding laundry with me (and silently thanked him for another important life lesson), and we carried the basket of laundry reciting "teamwork" as we headed to the linen closet to put it all away.

continuation

2007-06-25T14:54:00.001-07:00

So, I discovered this afternoon that Aaron has the same cry when he gets hurt as he has when you know he is not really hurt but he's freaking out anyways. I discovered this when he received a blood dripping dent in his forehead after ramming it into the door knob while chasing Ilan and Isaac.

Shortly thereafter, Jeff, our swimming teacher arrived and - believe it or not - it was another cocky moment in motherhood. I was changing Ellie's diaper, waiting for him to ring the bell. I noticed poop in her shorts - how did that get there? It must have been left over from this morning. Did I mention changing a poopy diaper during my first shift? A few minutes afterwards, I still smelled something. I lifted her up, smelled her, couldn't find the source anywhere. When I got up from the floor, I noticed poop on my foot, my pants, the carpet.... I'm still not sure what happened.

When Jeff arrived, only one of three was eager to go swimming. After the first one went in the pool, the other two wanted to go in too. So, instead of taking turns like they normally do, we took advantage of the (rare) moment. I quickly put Ellie down for a nap, and she went to sleep this time. One might think a mother could have 60 minutes to catch up on dishes, dirty tables, pajamas still lying around, the laundry in the dryer - on the dryer - and waiting to go in the dryer - but, no, I played secondary lifeguard.

It was well worth the hour. To see my children - two of whom have hated the water since they were six months old - enjoying themselves was pure ecstasy. Ilan was the worst of them. He hated baths as well as the pool, and here he was going off the diving board and swimming - really swimming - to the side. Aaron was the stubborn a** who, unless he could do what he wanted - play on the raft - would cry and whine and scream for 30 minutes straight. He was diving off the side of the pool - like a leaping bat all spread out - splashing into the pool and swimming back to the stairs. Then there was Isaac, who I haven't even pushed into swimming lessons yet because I want him to enjoy the pool. He decided he wanted to swim - with Jeff - today. He was jumping off the side into Jeff's arms. He was putting his face in the water and blowing bubbles. He was playing on the stairs, having a blast. Jeff bounced back and forth between them and I bounced wherever he wasn't, running inside to get shoes for my burning feet and a camera so their Daddy could see them when he got home tonight (did I mention he is out of town?).

Swimming ended. Ellie was sleeping. Bathing suits came off, clothes went on, snacks were had. Minutes later, I decided we would take Ilan to his karate class. I put everyone in the car without their shoes on, told Ilan to get in his karate uniform and, at the last minute, woke Ellie. We went to karate, three of them staying in the car and watching a movie on the VCR my brother-in-law won at a charity auction and kindly gave to us to install in our car. Karate lasts an hour. Now, we're home. They already ate dinner (it's 5:33pm). They are playing. I am typing and Ellie is in the saucer whining because it's time for her to go to sleep.

I put Ellie down, get everyone else in pajamas, watch as they play in the bounce house that now occupies my bedroom. We bought it when Aaron was younger thinking it would help to release some of his energy. They bounce. I create a meal plan for Friday night when we always have a dinner and usually have guests. I put Isaac to sleep. Ilan and Aaron take turns on Club Penguin (moms of young children - check it out - a great website for young children www.clubpenguin.com). Ilan and Aaron go to sleep. Aaron comes out of his room to give me his worries he forgot to give me. Ilan comes out of his room to get cold, cold, very cold water. Aaron comes out to ask how many hours until morning. Ilan comes out to ask why the sun is still out if it's night time. I warm up leftovers for dinner. I'm ready for bed.

I turn around and notice the pile creeping over the edge of my sink. My dishwasher is clean and I have to unload in order to re-load. I see the shoes on the floor, the pile of swim suits and towels, the three baskets of laundry waiting to be folded, the toys spread out on my bedroom floor from the last half hour of the day (I am always amazed at how quickly a clean room can be destroyed - even when under supervision). I check the clock. I need to get some sleep before I have to wake up with Ellie.

Oooops, I hear somebody crying. Gotta go!

Aaaaaah, retirement!

2007-06-25T12:42:00.000-07:00

I had an immense realization today. I always feel guilty when I look to my husband for some empathy toward my incredibly busy day. After all, he has worked all day too, and his days are packed with meetings, deadlines, and competitive pressures.

But, today, I realized my husband does not have to roll out of bed whenever his eight-month old daughter dictates it is time to get up. He doesn't have to prepare a bottle with eyes half open from a Zyrtec hangover (it only took me three weeks on the medication to realize it wipes me out through the morning because I'm taking it too late at night). He doesn't have to pile four children into the car (after making sure they are all dressed and fed) to take one child to camp by 8 o'clock in the morning (he's probably just leaving the house by then).

But, wait! There's more. The day is only 1/5 over with. The baby falls asleep on the way to camp drop off, and I cringe as I have to put her in the stroller and wake her up just for a 3 minute walk upstairs to drop off our camper. We're back in the car before 8 minutes have passed (it takes longer to get the two little ones in and out of the stroller). We drive home, take three children out of the car, change two diapers, cut one child's long nails, make a call to try and change the appointment for the allergy doctor, change the laundry, pop in at the computer while the children are occupied with.... TV (I admit it), and pack up to leave for the next adventure. This took 45 minutes.

I made an executive decision. We would leave early, so Ellie (the baby) could fall asleep again and have a half hour nap. By the time we got in the car, it wasn't early anymore but Ellie didn't fall asleep anyways. Arriving at class, I set Ellie on the side in her stroller with some toys she could chew on. Aaron immediately put his headphones on and began playing games on the Leapster he was allowed to bring.

I have to say - the class went smoothly. Aaron stayed occupied except for when he became tangled in the wire of the headphones. Ellie needed the usual constant attention of giving her the toy she threw on the ground, changing the toys every now and then so she wouldn't get bored, and stopping once to give her something to drink. I remembered my one and only rule: "Don't get cocky!" I didn't let it get to my head.

But, I seriously doubt that my husband lays his daughter down his legs to change her diaper while the car cools off from the Arizona heat (we were in the shade). Isaac had his shirt off because he started chewing on it during class so I took my spare shirt, put it on him, yanked down his pants and changed his diaper, and set him in the car with two waters (he must have two of everything) and a piece of soy cheese. Aaron buckled himself into the back seat and I gave him his water and his... oh, no... where did his granola bar go? Well, Aaron got to choose between soy cheese and Gerber puffs. He chose the latter. It was 11:20, almost an hour past Ellie's usual lunch time. We had ten minutes before we had to leave (the parking lot) to get Ilan.

My car was still running. I fed Ellie a jar of sweet potatoes, a half jar of pears and mangoes and gave her a bottle. We left the parking lot to get Ilan at camp.

I pulled up to get Ilan, preparing to put Ellie and Isaac back in the stroller, ration out the "who gets to push the buttons on the elevator and automatic doors" and deal with the crying as I left Isaac in the hallway to step inside the room to get Ilan. Isaac and Ellie were asleep. Does that surprise you? I didn't want to disrupt HER nap AGAIN, nor did I want to deprive my stereotypical, crabby without a nap two-year old. I called the community college who put me through to continuing education, the department running the camp.

Just this once, they said, we will go and get your child for you. I stepped outside my car to wait, standing in the Arizona heat because I felt guilty someone else had to pick up my son for me. It seemed like forever but they finally came.

We left, returning home with the angst of wonder whether or not my sleeping babes would remain sleeping. Well, Ellie awoke during the ride home. Isaac stirred when I transferred him but I put him in bed anyways. I went to give Ellie a bottle and put her in her crib, hoping she'd go back down for a decent chunk of sleep. Then, I went back to the car to get Ilan's projects from science camp, our bag of food and drinks from the morning, and my diaper bag which can no longer be left in the car as usual because the wipes get dried out. Do you think it takes my husband this long or this many trips to get out of his car during the day at work? Nooooo... actually, he stays in the office all day. His food is catered by his company. He gets to work through lunch - just like I do.

I decided I was going to have lunch and have it in front of my computer. I quickly made lunch for Ilan and Aaron and told them they could sit at the table in the playroom and watch a show while they ate (oy!). I quickly made my lunch to the sound of .... screaming.... two children screaming. Neither Isaac nor Ellie were asleep. I did what any good mother would do - I turned off their monitors and went into my office with lunch in hand. I was going to grab five minutes to myself, no matter how long it took me!

Now, they are all up. Ellie is whining on the floor next to me while I finish typing. Isaac is sitting on the couch - sounds like he turned the TV on by himself (he's two). Ilan is getting his bathing suit on for his swim lesson (for which we will put the sun screen on the minute the swim teacher rings the bell), and Aaron is probably hiding under my bed in order to avoid his swim lesson.

My salad bowl from lunch is in the sink, the tomato is on the counter, the boys' plates are still in the playroom. I will regret this later on when I am "behind" in my rhythm and I have to catch up. But, right now, it's time to focus on swimming - Isaac crying because he wants to swim but not with Jeff, Ilan thinking he's good enough to be on a swim team and trying to get Jeff to teach him the things he think he should know, and Aaron whining about swimming until the second he gets into the pool... oh, yeah. And, I forgot about Ellie - who is now so incredibly tired but it's too late for a nap since she goes down for the night at 5.

Our day is about 1/3 over. If you want to hear about the other 2/3's, you'll have to check back later. Of COURSE, there are some details left out of the morning shift. I didn't want to bore you to DEATH.... just to retirement. Aaaaah, retirement.

Does every little second really matter?

2007-06-18T13:28:00.000-07:00

How overboard am I going? With four children six and under in our house, I am constantly moving ~ I never walk through the house without something in my hands. "As long as I'm doing something, I'm getting it done." - that's what I always say.

I enjoy collecting organizing tips, learning how busy moms efficiently arrange their days, and discovering tricks for a smooth running life. Recently, at Get Organized Now (on the web), I read a reader tip for decreasing the time it takes to unload the dishwasher. This woman puts spoons in one section of the silverware holder, knives in another and forks in another. That way, when it's time to unload, she grabs the whole section and puts it away.

At first I thought that was a great idea. When I actually tried it, I realized I did not have enough sections in my dishwasher basket for proper categorization. Nor are the seconds saved (approximately 23) worth the effort of remembering and training yourself and the other members in your family to follow suit.

On the other hand, I know - having set my microwave oven for 40 seconds and then running around to accomplish as much as I possibly could in those forty seconds, that I could change a load of laundry from the washer to the dryer, turn off the running water that someone left running in the bathroom, run across the house to make sure my 8-month old who is sitting in the middle of my bed still hasn't learned how to roll over and grab a beverage to go with the bag of popcorn I just popped all before the timer goes off.

If you save 23 seconds at least once a day, that would be nearly 3 minutes per week or 12 minutes per month or an hour and forty-five minutes each year. Do you know what I could accomplish in an hour and forty-five minutes?

CRISIS (a la) MODE

2007-02-08T11:39:00.000-08:00

I don't know how they do it. Three out of our four children should be exhausted today, and - yet - they won't take naps. Isaac (almost 20 months) had a hard time falling asleep last night. It was after 9:00 before he finally settled down. His night time routine normally starts by 6:30, but because he had taken an extra long nap, we didn't start bedtime until 7:00. Still, by 9:00, he should have been sound asleep. Instead, I was rocking and singing to him for the third time that night.

Eliana (4 months) also should have been sleeping earlier than she was. She usually falls asleep between 5:00 and 8:00 and stays asleep for 6-8 hours. Instead, I was bouncing between her and Isaac. Nursing Eliana and singing to Isaac, nursing Eliana and rocking Isaac. Putting one down and running across the house to the other one. Once she was down, she only gave me 4 hours, so I was nursing her more than usual throughout the night.

And, then there's Ilan (5 1/2 years old). He went to sleep with a nasty cough. He came out of his room SEVERAL times. His neck hurt. His stomach hurt. He had a scratch on his back. He needed "cold, cold, very cold water". We, my husband and I, were getting fed up, despite the fact that Ilan did not feel good. He finally fell asleep and when I went to check on him, I heard a terrible wheeze - in his chest.

Having grown up with an asthma allergy, I knew that sound. I hated that sound. I knew what it felt like inside - besides having difficulty taking your breath, you shut down. The little whimpering noises he was making were all too familiar. His inability to fall asleep now made sense. He just didn't know what was going on in his body to tell us. Your head is kind of in a spin. You don't feel right.

I woke him up (as best I could) and told him to cough. It didn't get better. I had David (my husband) move Ilan to our bed so we could "listen" to him all night. I knew that probably meant no sleep for me as listening to wheezing was not a pleasant experience for me.

Around midnight, Ilan woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. He was coughing and we were trying to hush him. Eliana still sleeps in our room. Oh yeah... and Aaron (four years old) was in our bed by now also. He was a fairly quick wake up and fall back asleep but he was still taking up space in our bed and was another child to worry about waking.

I took Ilan to the bathroom to steam him - the first step to stopping an asthma attack when I was a child. It didn't help and he wanted to get up off the bathroom floor where I had made him a nice "comfortable" sleeping spot, hoping he'd just fall asleep there. I took him into our back room and propped him up on the couch with blankets and pillows. I laid down on the floor with the pillow from my room, a necessity for sleeping. But, there was no sleep. He couldn't stop coughing. He couldn't stop wheezing. He wanted to go to the doctor.

I woke David and we quickly figured out he would have to take Ilan to the emergency room since I had to be available to nurse Eliana. At 4:00am, they left. At 8:00am, they returned. I had nursed twice while they were gone, responded to Aaron waking up and falling back asleep and getting Isaac at 7:00 when he woke up. Ilan had a nebulizer treatment to help him breathe. He needed it every two hours for the first four hours and then every four hours after that. Problem was, at the time of the first treatment, we were going to be at the doctor's office for Ellie's four month WELL check.

I loaded Eliana, Isaac, Ilan and the nebulizer in the car. I forgot to bring the prescription amount. I forgot to bring my cell phone. Isaac pooped in the doctor's office. I left his diapers in the car because I figured I wouldn't need them. I decided to wait until we got home to give Ilan his treatment. Once we were in the doctor's office, Eliana peed after being weighed and before I put her new diaper on. The table and crinkly paper was all wet. I didn't have dry clothes. Isaac's poop smelled. Eliana had four shots. Ilan's treatment was an hour late.

I thought when we got home, everyone would be ready for a nap. I was. I was the only one. This is crisis mode, I thought. I am exhausted. How can they not be exhausted? How can they not just pass out? I nursed Eliana about four times before she finally fell asleep (in her swing). I gave up on Isaac's nap and gathered my energy (what energy?) for dealing with his EXTREME crabbiness. Ilan lay on the couch - ready to pass out at any minute but refusing to give in - for hours.

I went and got some ice cream from the freezer. CRISIS a la MODE.

Sometimes, I Don't Love You

2007-02-06T15:24:00.000-08:00

It finally happened. I knew it would. I just didn't know what it would feel like.

My son told me "I love daddy more than you." First, he told my husband "I love you more than mommy." Then, he turned to me and innocently made it clear.

I've heard "I don't love you." plenty of times before. Somehow, this one was different. It brought stinging tears in my eyes. I asked my son to go sit in his room to think about his cruel words which is how we begin our path to apology... and then I got mad at my husband.

He was home from work early, having been out of town for the past two nights. He wanted to take the older boys miniature golfing. Isaac, 19 months, had fallen asleep in the car on the way to pick the boys up from school and he was going to stay at home. Eliana, 4 months, of course - would stay home.

But, Isaac woke up when I tried to put him in his crib. He was crabby from not having completed his nap. I didn't want to be stuck at home with that - I wanted to enjoy my husband's home-from-work-early day too.

Aaron was excited to go miniature golfing. I know that's where the four year old feeling came from. Daddy always gets to take the boys on fun outings. Mommy stays with the little ones. My husband, rightly so, wanted to take the boys out for an adventure to take advantage of his being home early and due to the fact that he is leaving the country for 12 days a little later this month.

I used to do fun things too. Ilan and Aaron were born 17 months apart. I used to pick Ilan up from school at 1:00 and drive down to the children's museum. We would hang out there for an hour and drive home. I would take them to the park. I did art projects with them. We spent time digging and planting and hunting for treasure in our backyard. We explored the world together.

Now, Ilan and Aaron are in school until 3:00 and 3:30 respectively. Isaac and Eliana are 16 months apart but still too young to do the things I used to do with Ilan and Aaron (though I have to say, I have taken all four out on brief outings - to the zoo, to the park, to the science museum). I need to remind myself of that and realize that their (and my) time will come. I also need to remind my husband of this - just to make myself feel better.

"You know, David," I said to him, "just because I stay at home with the children doesn't mean I get to do these fun things that you do all the time. I'd like to take advantage of you being home early too - especially since you are leaving town again and I'm going to have to operate in maintenance mode."

David offered for me to take the boys miniature golfing and he'd stay home. That wasn't the point. But, I appreciated the offer. I wanted him to have another glimpse into motherhood. I am constantly providing glimpses of motherhood for David, and he understands. And, he doesn't want my job.

In the meantime, I have to remember that everything is temporary. Everything passes by eventually. My days operating according to the very different routines of Eliana and Isaac will soon pass, and we will have morning adventures together. I won't have to stop what we are doing and nurse Ellie on the floor of a bathroom stall. I won't have to wake up Isaac from his much needed nap in order to pick up Aaron and then Ilan at school. I won't have to spend much of my day in the house because my children nap at different times.

Life goes by quickly, and I am sure I will miss the days when my youngest children were still babies. But, for now, I dream of future freedoms and await my moment of adventure with my children - when I will be looked upon as the really cool parent, the one who plays and creates fun things to do.

I heard Aaron calling me from his room - a first in the moments of "time to think about what we just did and how it made the other person feel". I went into his room.
"I'm ready to apologize," he said. Our family is working on apologizing with respect and really thinking about what we did that hurt the other person - thus, the minutes alone in the room.
"I'm sorry for... saying I loved Daddy better than you." In my mind, the apology went on... "really, I love you better because you are the one who makes sure I'm fed and that I wear the proper clothes to school. You're the one who keeps me on my routine and makes sure I get to bed on time. You're the one who knows that I like my hot dog outside of the bun, but I like to eat the bun too. You're the one, Mommy, who I really need.... even though you're not always so much fun." (a mom can dream, can't she?)

I gave Aaron a hug and told him that his words really hurt my feelings but thanked him for apologizing. "Is there anything I can do for you?", he continued. (something I learned from a friend that extends the apology and really shows the other person that you care about them and want to make up for what you did - thanks, Ayala)
"How about a hug?", I replied.

Aaron came over and gave me a tight squeeze. Then he walked out the door to go miniature golfing with his dad.

We Need Another Mommy in the House

2007-01-25T21:02:00.000-08:00

I've been sick for three weeks. It started with losing my voice and went on to fever, repiratory problems and hives. Hives are the most recent edition and they are unlike any hives I have ever experienced before. They are huge, red welts all over my legs and other extremities including my ear lobes, elbows and rear end. They hurt like bruises and prevent me from sitting on my knees and playing on the floor with my children. They hurt in my joints even where I cannot see them - making it difficult to lift the baby in her car seat.
I went to the allergist yesterday. My appointment was at 2:00, and I have to pick up my son, Aaron, at 3:00. I called the school and spoke to Lois at the front desk. No problem, she said, if I was late, Aaron could go into after care and I would just pay the difference. But Lois didn't tell Aaron's teacher. And, at 3:30, as I was getting blood drawn, my cell phone rang. Miss Amy wanted to know if I was ok and where I was. I panicked. Aaron is the child who you need to forewarn when changes in life are going to happen. I told Miss Amy I was on my way.
When I ran into Aaron's classroom ready for tears and anger, I was - instead - ignored. Miss Amy stayed late and didn't even tell Aaron about aftercare. He had Miss Amy and all her toys all to himself, and he wasn't ready to leave when I arrived. Thank G-d for the Miss Amy's in the world.
I went to fill the ninety prescriptions the allergist gave me and double checked with the Pharmacist, as I always do, if they were safe to take while nursing. The Pharmacist said "no" on all of them. I went home without any relief.

Today, I went to my regular internist. I wanted to make sure these welts were not a virus or something other than allergic hives. When the doc walked in and saw me, he said "Oh my, isn't that interesting?" He looked at my chart, noted that my blood sugars were high from the tests I had when I was first sick three weeks ago and saw that I had had an allergic reaction to the Penicillian they prescribed two weeks ago. He didn't think the hives now could be from that first reaction. And, he wanted to do more blood tests to find out why my sugars were high.
Oh, and did I mention that on the way to this appointment, my son, Ilan's school called. He had been caught on the bottom of a pile up after lunch and hurt his neck. I had to go pick him up early. He wanted to come home. The wind was knocked out of him, the Assistant Principal said, but I should go to my doctor's appointment first and then come to school.
The doctor decided I needed a shot of Benedryl (in my rear end, between hives) as a first step. I have to go back tomorrow for the blood work since I had to leave to get Ilan and I was already feeling guilty for putting myself first. We called the Pediatrician who gave me permission to take some of the prescriptions the Allergist had given me. And, I had to come back on Monday to see the doc again.

I went to get Ilan. No one told me the shot area would sting and hurt (the nurse confirmed this as I was walking out) and that it would be difficult to walk. No one told me I would feel dizzy, tired and unable to do much though I should have known had I really thought about it. I picked up Ilan. He was fine - just shaken up from his experience, but he had fun in the Assistant Principal's office while he was waiting for me and enjoyed the attention from his classmates when we went to get his backpack. We went to Aaron's school to pick him up and then I passed out as my babysitter took over.

My husband who is away on business received an email from me detailing my experiences and asking him to, please keep me, but to get another wife. We need another Mommy in the house, I told him. He wrote back turning my woes into a rhyming Haiku and told me I should write a book. I told him to get me the other Mommy and I'd have time to do it.

2007-01-08T18:42:00.000-08:00

One of the primary goals of my life coaching business is helping moms realize the need for self care. By taking care of themselves (exercising, eating right and – most importantly – taking TIME for themselves), they will be better parents for their children (not to mention role modeling an exceptional value). At ON THE VERGE OF… ME, we assist moms as they rediscover themselves throughout motherhood. We work to eliminate barriers that prevent moms from pursuing things for themselves. We examine the mundane tasks of motherhood and work to change their perspectives and attitudes toward them. We help them redefine or rediscover their values, their passions and who they want to be.

Several times in the last few weeks, people have said to me (doctors, friends, teachers at my son’s school) that I needed to “take a break”, “take care of my self”, or “take some time for ME”. Each time, my inside reaction was “Hey! That’s what my business is all about!” Was I not walking my talk?

Of course I was. I was reminded of a lecture I attended many years before given by Dan Millman, author of The Way of the Peaceful Warrior among several other books. As he stood before us talking about living your Truth and living life with the proper attitudes and actions, I questioned him. “Are you always ON?” I asked, “Even if you (try to) live as you are saying, don’t you ever fall or struggle?”

“Certainly”, was the answer. But, he had the tools to get through the mucky times. He knew how to pick himself up or put a plan in place to overcome what he needed to. He knew what his values were and, if he was living off course from his values, he could readjust his life.

I have been sick for two weeks. First it was minor and I could still function through it. Then I lost my voice – and I could still function – but I couldn’t speak. Then I had a fever, the aches and chills and was absolutely miserable for about two days. My washing machine broke during this time. My babysitter was also out sick and the person who cleans my home was away for a week.

I am days behind in my household management. One of my values is not having a chaotically messy home and staying on top of everything. There was no way I could do that in the last couple of days, and it's amazing how far behind you can get by letting one day go by. BUT, I have the tools to create a plan to catch up without too much angst (I can ask my sitter to stay a little longer). I know what I need to do in reasonable limits to get where I need to be (we can live in a semi-messy home for a few days). I know that I have to take time to rest and not jump back into life full force and I know that this will benefit my family and me more in the long run (I can schedule play dates for my two older children). I can be creative in my solutions (bring a friend coffee while I use her washing machine).

Walking your talk or living your Truth is simply knowing what you need to do to stay on track. We all sway from our paths. We all get overwhelmed. We all must develop the tools and create plans to keep us going in a straight line.

Bouncing From Child to Child & Moment to Moment

2007-01-03T19:55:00.000-08:00

I finally figured out why I've been eating so much. I delivered our fourth child on October 8th of this year (that's not why). During the pregnancy, I had gestational diabetes (that's not why either... be patient). I used that time to redevelop better eating habits that I once maintained in my life. I figured it was a great jump start to continuing the path of healthy eating after I delivered. But the second I delivered, I was allowed to eat sugar again. I had to celebrate - both the delivery of our baby and the disappearance of the diabetes - with, what else? a cookie! Sugar just leads to more sugar for me.... and so it began. But that's not answering the question of why I've been eating so much.

I'm nursing. I'm burning more calories, I need to consume more calories (that's not why). I went for my six week appointment and actually weighed less than my pre-pregnancy weight (my pre-pregnancy weight included 10-15 extra pounds that I never lost from children numbers one, two and three). I got a little cocky with that weight and immediately began eating more - of everything. My stomach has popped (way) out again... but that's not WHY I've been eating so much.

My husband left town this week for two nights (nope! that's not why either). My babysitter has been sick all week. The person who helps keep my house clean and organized has been gone all week. I've been a little under the weather - my throat HURTS - and I'm taking antibiotics. The night before my husband left, I moaned to him about how difficult the next couple of days were going to be. He naively stated that he had no doubt I could handle it - easy as pie. I reminded him that he had been home for two hours before we ended up at the table sitting across from each other, eating and talking and that all we had done for the last two hours was bounce back and forth between one of four children. Literally. This one's whining too much and he's caught in a power struggle... SWITCH. This one needs to brush his teeth and I can't stand watching people brush their teeth... SWITCH! The baby needs her diaper changed and I need a break from being latched to her... SWITCH! The 18 month old needs his pajamas on.... You do that while I nurse the baby then I'll take him and put him to bed while you put '5years old' and '4years old' into their pajamas and start reading to them. Then, I'll take over and get them into bed since it takes you 45 minutes to do that. While I'm tucking them in, you get their water ready. I'll come out of their room, get their water and bring it back in. Then we can eat the dinner that's been sitting in the oven for the last two hours getting hot and crunchy. Which is exactly where we were at the beginning of this paragraph.

And, now - after one day of my husband gone... did he just leave this morning? I know why I have to eat so much.... the more I eat, the better I bounce.

There's No Good Answer

2006-11-28T21:42:00.000-08:00

I have a friend who consistently looks to me for parenting advice. I’m a step ahead of her in the “closely spaced children” arena, and – other than that – I’m not sure why she comes to me for guidance.

There was a time I thought I’d be a fantastic Mommy, but that was before I had children of my own. When I worked in residential treatment with abused and abandoned children, I had patience and understanding like no other. When I worked at day camps, I was given the difficult children because I had a way with them. When I worked with pregnant teens, helped drug dependent teens make better choices or created a resiliency program to boost the self image of elementary aged children, I was confident and comfortable!

But, the moment my first child was born, so – too – was self doubt. Only then did I begin to wonder if what I was saying was really the truth, if what I was doing was really the best thing for a child, if what I believed was really the right belief to hold when raising my own child. Only when my first child was born, did I realize that I would never walk away – my job would never be over – I would never be moving on. This one, I’d have to see to the very end. I would witness the repercussions of my decisions. I would have so many more (important) decisions to make on behalf of my children than I ever had to make before.

There is one thing I do know with the utmost certainty. And, this is probably why my friend comes to me time and time again. I have an answer for everything. I’ve read a lot of books. I have a vast amount of experiences with children in all different environments. I’ve taken a lot of courses. I majored in Psychology, minored in Family Studies, earned a Master’s in Counseling and started another Master’s in Early Childhood Education. I specialized in Play Therapy, have a certificate in Life Coaching and started my own business assisting Moms as they redefine and recreate themselves.

As I said above, I have an answer for everything, and that is: THERE'S NO GOOD ANSWER. That’s not a cop-out. It’s just the gosh darn truth. There are no absolutes when it comes to raising children. There is no one answer for any question a Mommy may ask.

The best you can do is to do your homework, talk to your friends, question professionals you trust… but, most importantly, trust your Mommy’s Intuition!

A Place of My Own

2006-11-28T21:10:00.000-08:00

Not too long ago, a friend of mine who recently had her first baby asked me how I was adjusting to my newly acquired third (boy). She marveled at how a mom could manage three when one was hard enough.

I told her two seemed easy when three came along and one seemed easy after two – but you have to take “easy” within context because the challenges and difficulties exist within each.

With one, you learn how to never sleep, how to hold a baby all day long and still get things done. You’re learning how to be a parent, adjusting to the responsibilities – not only of the caretaking but the responsibility to love, to worry, to teach and to provide for this separate piece of you. You’re learning about living a life that doesn’t fully belong to you anymore.

When two comes (and my first two were close together), you have to learn how to keep the first one quiet so you can rock the second one to sleep (or better yet, you have to develop peace of mind so you don’t lose it when you can’t keep number one quiet). You have to occupy the time of the older while feeding the younger and still provide adequate supervision for the older. You have to plan schedules around two nap times which means at least one child will always be napping at any given point in the day and you will be stuck in the house – ALL DAY!

With three, you just have to learn to exist with no rhythm and all chaos. You have to let go of all the controls you created to manage life with two. You truly have to go with the flow and just live in the present moment (and, I’d recommend a daily calendar to list all of your present moments – or you might miss one – as I often do).

One, two or three – nine or ten children – every parent has a most difficult and important task before them – to raise highly functioning children who will go out into the world and make good choices as they discover who they are and what they can contribute to society. And, in the midst of teaching, providing a good role model, encouraging and inspiring our children – their job is to push our buttons, challenge us beyond anything we’ve ever been challenged by, and make us question every move, every choice, every action, and every belief we’ve ever had.

Not too long after our email conversation, my friend emailed me again – what did I think four would be like, she wanted to know. I think four would put me in the insane asylum… but, lately, I’ve wanted a place of my own.

©2005 LisaPinkus

You Gotta Sit in the Backseat to Hear the Music & Feel the Air

2006-11-28T20:58:00.000-08:00

I never realized how loud the music was or how gently the air blew in the back of the minivan until I had to sit there. I couldn’t hear a thing that was being said to me from up front, and the air conditioner – though blowing very loudly – was hardly blowing at all.

My children don’t always say “turn the music down” (ok, they never say turn it down – they constantly say to turn it up - and the oldest is only 4). And, it is only recently that they are able to say “I’m hot; make it colder.”

I realize that’s how the parent/child relationship exists in many arenas. Our children are often not able to verbalize (have you ever said “Use your words, Johnny”?) what they are thinking, feeling or needing. When the tantrums strike, it is our responsibility to listen, to decode and to respond appropriately.

Yelling is not a response that works. Ignoring doesn't actually fulfill their desperate need either. Getting frustrated only fuels their frustration. You are the parent. You are supposed to know these things. (“Mommies know everything”, my four year old often tells me… “but Daddies know more.”)

It is important – essential, perhaps – to speak to your children on their level. Get down on your knees and look them in the eyes. Hold them tightly when they are so deep in a tantrum, they cannot control themselves. Think about life from their perspective. Take a walk in their shoes. Set aside your own desire to rip your hair out, to yell loudly, or to tell them how stupid they are being… and respond to them while modeling patience, communication and understanding. And, if all else fails, drop to your knees and pray for it to pass quickly.

©2005 Lisa Pinkus