My good friend recently showed me a little note book where she writes down all those important "kid" memories and milestones. What a very good idea, I thought to myself.
Just a second, that's what my blog used to be! I used to keep track of all those special memories right here. What happened?
As my kids get older (they are five and seven now), I've struggled with how much I should be sharing of their personal lives. We're getting close to the age where their school chums will have access to the Internet and will be able to Google anything and everything. I used to let it rip here, but if I get into our messy family business...that means anyone can read it. We're beyond the baby and toddler years and there's something about sharing our elementary school-level stories that makes me kind of unsettled.
That said, I think I'd like to explore where that fine line is. I've proven to myself that I'm pretty lame at tracking special kid memories anywhere other than this blog. I'm also realizing I have no ability to retain all this info on my own. That means I better step it up if my husband and I are ever going to have a general sense of what happened during our life as a young family. When did my kids start walking? Hmmmmm...good question. When did they lose their first tooth? Well hopefully that info is somewhere on this blog (although the little guy hasn't actually lost any teeth so I haven't screwed that memory up yet).
As I was reading the kids a bed time story tonight, my daughter managed to pull out our very loved (like there's missing wedges from gnawing gums kinda loved) copy of "Hush Little Baby" from my son's bookshelf. Both kids wanted me to read/sing it and were equally attentive and seemingly touched as I went through the pages. I told them I used to sing it to them every night. They both told me they remembered and both gave me this sweet hug. And while I'm focusing on the awesomeness and love, and not on the other (negative) child-induced baloney which has occurred in the past week, I'm blown away by how big and amazing these kids of mine have become. It seems like only yesterday that "Hush Little Baby" was a nightly staple.
These little people are my biggest challenge and my greatest joy. And I'm trying to stop and smell the coffee a bit more these days. I'm trying to be mindful. I'm trying not to lose my temper as easily because being a mad mama is super unhealthy. I'm trying not to yell because it makes us all feel like crap. I'm trying to remember that my children's frontal lobes are not yet developed and mine is (i.e. I'm the grown up). I'm trying to model the behavior I want to see in them (which is super hard). I'm going to yoga once a week because it makes me feel awesome, which makes me a better mama. And I really want to enjoy my kids while they are kids, so I'm trying to be more present. In a few years, they're probably not going to want to have much to do with me. If they're anything like I was as a teenager, I better be savoring the time I have now.
Starting this September, my kids will be on the same schedule at the same school for the first time ever. As you may have guessed, I'm starting to realize that everything is going by really fast (like I'm turning 40 next year. What is that all about?). I better pick up the pace and start keeping track of it all...right here at 24-7 Mommy.
Showing posts with label parenthood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenthood. Show all posts
Monday, March 31, 2014
Pinky Promise
I haven't been writing about my crazy kids lately. I haven't been sharing my ups and downs with parenting (because this whole thing is a roller coaster of joy and pain). And I haven't told you how I'm starting to understand what people mean when they say "it all goes by so fast..."
I did want to share a conversation I had with my 5-year-old son this morning as we drove to preschool.
We were covering the basics around levels of education. First we go to preschool, then elementary school, then middle school, then high school, then university. Things got really emotional when we got to the university level. He realized I was talking about him leaving home and he put his foot down.
The little guy made it clear he will always want to live with me. As in forever. And he doesn't want a wife and children unless we can all live together. He was so serious, and so saddened at the idea of us ever being split apart. Looking at his troubled face, I too was saddened at the prospect of my son ever leaving home. I can't imagine NOT living with my sweet little guy forever and ever.
We were pretty worked up by the time we got to drop off and I kinda wanted to just keep driving with him...enjoy the moment for as long as possible. My beautiful five-year-old, wanting nothing more than a guarantee we could always be together (and no, living next door wasn't a satisfactory option for him).
The little guy made me pinky promise that we will live together forever. I told him that if that's what he wants, then yes, I pinky promise.
I did want to share a conversation I had with my 5-year-old son this morning as we drove to preschool.
We were covering the basics around levels of education. First we go to preschool, then elementary school, then middle school, then high school, then university. Things got really emotional when we got to the university level. He realized I was talking about him leaving home and he put his foot down.
The little guy made it clear he will always want to live with me. As in forever. And he doesn't want a wife and children unless we can all live together. He was so serious, and so saddened at the idea of us ever being split apart. Looking at his troubled face, I too was saddened at the prospect of my son ever leaving home. I can't imagine NOT living with my sweet little guy forever and ever.
We were pretty worked up by the time we got to drop off and I kinda wanted to just keep driving with him...enjoy the moment for as long as possible. My beautiful five-year-old, wanting nothing more than a guarantee we could always be together (and no, living next door wasn't a satisfactory option for him).
The little guy made me pinky promise that we will live together forever. I told him that if that's what he wants, then yes, I pinky promise.
Saturday, March 15, 2014
My Failed Attempt at a Real Simple Essay Contest
Last fall, I read about an essay contest in Real Simple magazine. The essay question was: What is the bravest thing you have ever done?
At the time, I was looking to write more, so I figured I would jump into the contest. How cool would it be to be published in Real Simple? I conveniently forgot I would probably be up against thousands of entries.
The winning essay (which is extremely touching and well done) was published in this month's issue. And while I didn't win first, second, or third place, I thought I'd share my submission here.
I'd like to say that, despite my serious initial struggles with becoming a mother, I'm really happy with where I am now, so please don't worry that I'm in a pit of parenting despair or anything!
As always, feel free to share any thoughts.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I don’t consider myself brave. I’ve never run into a burning building to save a person or fought a life-threatening disease.
But if I had to nail bravery down to one act, I’d have to say that walking away from my career and becoming a stay-at-home-mom was by far the bravest thing I’ve ever done.
I became a parent at the age of 31. I’d been working full-time in non-profit communications and public affairs for a number of years in New York City and then Washington, D.C. My job took me all over the country and I felt blessed to have it.
Some come into parenthood easily. I am not one of those people. From the induced labor forward, I struggled desperately with motherhood. Looking back, it’s clear I suffered from some level of postpartum depression. I was getting no sleep, my baby girl was struggling with issues I couldn’t figure out (we know now that she suffers from severe food allergies), and I felt trapped. To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement.
About two weeks after my daughter’s birth, we celebrated Christmas with my family (who had lovingly made the trek from Canada to D.C. to visit us for the holiday). The Ryan family loves Christmas. But as much as we tried, Christmas 2006 was not the same as years past.
I can vividly remember getting out of the shower right before for Christmas dinner (my Mom calling from downstairs that the food was ready) and breaking down in tears. My heavy breasts were leaking milk all over my stomach and blood was draining from the wounds of having given birth to a 9 pound 6.5 ounce baby only weeks before. At that moment, on one of my favorite days of the year, I imagined what it would be like to walk in front of a truck and put an end to the misery. Pretty dark stuff.
I dreaded every night. As much as my husband tried to help, he had to perform at work and needed to get some sleep. I felt so alone and scared when bed time would roll around. My child would not sleep, which meant I could not sleep. And I am one of those people who really need their sleep (as in eight hours a night). The cycle of sleepless nights and lonely days left me desperate, at times. I sadly never reached out for any help. Perhaps motherhood was supposed to be this hard? People had always told me you don’t know how hard it is until you do it. But this seemed extreme.
We lived in a small row house in a central neighborhood at the time. Every morning I would stand in front of our living room window watching all of the “worker bees” head towards their various workplaces. They looked so fresh and well dressed. They walked with such purpose. They were like I used to be, and what I still wanted to be.
The United States is the only industrialized country in the world without guaranteed paid maternity leave. I was lucky my place of employment offered eight weeks.
Before I knew it, those eight weeks had passed by in a foggy haze of depression, dirty diapers, constant breast feeding, swaddling, shooshing and exhaustion (I now understand why sleep deprivation is a form of torture). Most days, I couldn’t think straight. I had a lot of what I called “no drive” days because I would have been too much of a hazard on the road.
Clinging to the idea that I would go back to work, I took advantage of 12 weeks leave provided by the Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA). I figured that would give me time to get my head screwed back on properly, or to magically snap back into the person I was before becoming a mother.
As the seasons shifted from Winter to Spring, I would day dream about how amazing it would be to sit at my desk and catch up on emails while drinking hot coffee. I would imagine how sweet it would feel to board a plane solo for meetings in another city. How I would be able to sleep all alone in a nice, quiet hotel room. How I would only have to worry about taking care of myself and my professional commitments. And to converse with intelligent adults? Oh, how divine. How could I have taken it all for granted?
As I slowly made my way out of the fog of new motherhood, I realized that having a small baby and a full-time career wasn’t going to blend as easily as I had first anticipated. If I was going back to work, I would need quality child care that would cover my travel schedule and allow my husband and I the flexibility to continue with our professional commitments (he’s in consulting and has an unreliable schedule).
Frankly, I wasn’t making the kind of money that would easily cover the additional expenses of child care, dry cleaning, daily lunches, etc. How far ahead financially would I need to come out to make going back to work worth it? Or should I be working simply because I was not cut out to be a full-time, at-home parent? What was best for me? And what was best for my little family?
The answers to those questions changed as rapidly as the diapers I was changing. One moment I would be sure I had to go back to the office. How could I have invested all those years in school to now sabotage everything I had worked so hard to build professionally? The next moment I would think of how fast my beautiful (and still extremely difficult and exhausting) daughter was growing and how it would be such a shame to miss out on all those “firsts.” I knew in my heart that as shaky a job as I was doing, no one else was going to try to soothe and comfort her like I was.
I had become a mom and I was slowly realizing that my identity had profoundly shifted.
And here’s where the bravery part kicks in. About half way through my FMLA leave, I met my boss for a lunch date, ordered a glass of white wine, and quit my job. He knew it was coming...even if I hadn’t been willing to admit it to myself for months.
I had absolutely no plan. How long would I be home for? How would I fill our days? And what about all the other jobs I was taking on? I was now CEO of our family and that came with some serious responsibility.
I became the house cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry doing, dinner making, stay-at-home mom. I had to shake off my old “worker bee” identity and try to embrace this new, and frankly, much less glamorous identity. And I realized I was lucky to have the choice.
There were many bumps along the path to finding our family “groove.” Especially as we threw another baby into the mix two years after my daughter’s birth. I frequently questioned my parenting abilities (or lack thereof). I wondered why I still struggled while other moms made it look so easy (especially the moms working outside of the home! How did they do it?). I’m embarrassed to admit this, but it was a good five years before I felt like I (mostly) had a handle on everything.
On tough days, my old “worker bee” identity would pop out and reprimand my current “stay-at-home” identity for having given up my job. To this day, almost seven years into it, I can’t help but wonder how far I could have gone if I had stuck with my career. I’ll never know. While I’ve been doing some freelance writing, my old career path is dead.
It’s funny because I probably could have written the same essay if I had made the opposite choice. Going back to work, as the majority of new moms do, would have been extremely brave. But for me, walking away from my career was one of the toughest things I’ve ever done. I’m proud of what I did and I’d like to think it was really brave.
At the time, I was looking to write more, so I figured I would jump into the contest. How cool would it be to be published in Real Simple? I conveniently forgot I would probably be up against thousands of entries.
The winning essay (which is extremely touching and well done) was published in this month's issue. And while I didn't win first, second, or third place, I thought I'd share my submission here.
I'd like to say that, despite my serious initial struggles with becoming a mother, I'm really happy with where I am now, so please don't worry that I'm in a pit of parenting despair or anything!
As always, feel free to share any thoughts.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I don’t consider myself brave. I’ve never run into a burning building to save a person or fought a life-threatening disease.
But if I had to nail bravery down to one act, I’d have to say that walking away from my career and becoming a stay-at-home-mom was by far the bravest thing I’ve ever done.
I became a parent at the age of 31. I’d been working full-time in non-profit communications and public affairs for a number of years in New York City and then Washington, D.C. My job took me all over the country and I felt blessed to have it.
Some come into parenthood easily. I am not one of those people. From the induced labor forward, I struggled desperately with motherhood. Looking back, it’s clear I suffered from some level of postpartum depression. I was getting no sleep, my baby girl was struggling with issues I couldn’t figure out (we know now that she suffers from severe food allergies), and I felt trapped. To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement.
About two weeks after my daughter’s birth, we celebrated Christmas with my family (who had lovingly made the trek from Canada to D.C. to visit us for the holiday). The Ryan family loves Christmas. But as much as we tried, Christmas 2006 was not the same as years past.
I can vividly remember getting out of the shower right before for Christmas dinner (my Mom calling from downstairs that the food was ready) and breaking down in tears. My heavy breasts were leaking milk all over my stomach and blood was draining from the wounds of having given birth to a 9 pound 6.5 ounce baby only weeks before. At that moment, on one of my favorite days of the year, I imagined what it would be like to walk in front of a truck and put an end to the misery. Pretty dark stuff.
I dreaded every night. As much as my husband tried to help, he had to perform at work and needed to get some sleep. I felt so alone and scared when bed time would roll around. My child would not sleep, which meant I could not sleep. And I am one of those people who really need their sleep (as in eight hours a night). The cycle of sleepless nights and lonely days left me desperate, at times. I sadly never reached out for any help. Perhaps motherhood was supposed to be this hard? People had always told me you don’t know how hard it is until you do it. But this seemed extreme.
We lived in a small row house in a central neighborhood at the time. Every morning I would stand in front of our living room window watching all of the “worker bees” head towards their various workplaces. They looked so fresh and well dressed. They walked with such purpose. They were like I used to be, and what I still wanted to be.
The United States is the only industrialized country in the world without guaranteed paid maternity leave. I was lucky my place of employment offered eight weeks.
Before I knew it, those eight weeks had passed by in a foggy haze of depression, dirty diapers, constant breast feeding, swaddling, shooshing and exhaustion (I now understand why sleep deprivation is a form of torture). Most days, I couldn’t think straight. I had a lot of what I called “no drive” days because I would have been too much of a hazard on the road.
Clinging to the idea that I would go back to work, I took advantage of 12 weeks leave provided by the Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA). I figured that would give me time to get my head screwed back on properly, or to magically snap back into the person I was before becoming a mother.
As the seasons shifted from Winter to Spring, I would day dream about how amazing it would be to sit at my desk and catch up on emails while drinking hot coffee. I would imagine how sweet it would feel to board a plane solo for meetings in another city. How I would be able to sleep all alone in a nice, quiet hotel room. How I would only have to worry about taking care of myself and my professional commitments. And to converse with intelligent adults? Oh, how divine. How could I have taken it all for granted?
As I slowly made my way out of the fog of new motherhood, I realized that having a small baby and a full-time career wasn’t going to blend as easily as I had first anticipated. If I was going back to work, I would need quality child care that would cover my travel schedule and allow my husband and I the flexibility to continue with our professional commitments (he’s in consulting and has an unreliable schedule).
Frankly, I wasn’t making the kind of money that would easily cover the additional expenses of child care, dry cleaning, daily lunches, etc. How far ahead financially would I need to come out to make going back to work worth it? Or should I be working simply because I was not cut out to be a full-time, at-home parent? What was best for me? And what was best for my little family?
The answers to those questions changed as rapidly as the diapers I was changing. One moment I would be sure I had to go back to the office. How could I have invested all those years in school to now sabotage everything I had worked so hard to build professionally? The next moment I would think of how fast my beautiful (and still extremely difficult and exhausting) daughter was growing and how it would be such a shame to miss out on all those “firsts.” I knew in my heart that as shaky a job as I was doing, no one else was going to try to soothe and comfort her like I was.
I had become a mom and I was slowly realizing that my identity had profoundly shifted.
And here’s where the bravery part kicks in. About half way through my FMLA leave, I met my boss for a lunch date, ordered a glass of white wine, and quit my job. He knew it was coming...even if I hadn’t been willing to admit it to myself for months.
I had absolutely no plan. How long would I be home for? How would I fill our days? And what about all the other jobs I was taking on? I was now CEO of our family and that came with some serious responsibility.
I became the house cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry doing, dinner making, stay-at-home mom. I had to shake off my old “worker bee” identity and try to embrace this new, and frankly, much less glamorous identity. And I realized I was lucky to have the choice.
There were many bumps along the path to finding our family “groove.” Especially as we threw another baby into the mix two years after my daughter’s birth. I frequently questioned my parenting abilities (or lack thereof). I wondered why I still struggled while other moms made it look so easy (especially the moms working outside of the home! How did they do it?). I’m embarrassed to admit this, but it was a good five years before I felt like I (mostly) had a handle on everything.
On tough days, my old “worker bee” identity would pop out and reprimand my current “stay-at-home” identity for having given up my job. To this day, almost seven years into it, I can’t help but wonder how far I could have gone if I had stuck with my career. I’ll never know. While I’ve been doing some freelance writing, my old career path is dead.
It’s funny because I probably could have written the same essay if I had made the opposite choice. Going back to work, as the majority of new moms do, would have been extremely brave. But for me, walking away from my career was one of the toughest things I’ve ever done. I’m proud of what I did and I’d like to think it was really brave.
Friday, July 20, 2012
The New Superwoman
My son and I have been doing a "superman" pose in swimming lessons every morning. He puts his hands above his head and pushes off from the steps into a superman glide...or a three-year-old's version of a superman glide.
Sometimes the teacher mentions doing a "superwoman glide," but not too consistently.
Needless to say, I was blown away when I heard about a real superwoman, Marissa Mayer. Not only is she the new CEO of Yahoo Inc., but she is only 37 years-old and is six months pregnant with her first child. I was glancing over the Wall Street Journal when I saw an article, For Yahoo CEO Marissa Mayer, Two New Roles, discussing her upcoming dual roles of CEO and mother.
My jaw seriously dropped to the floor. I couldn't process it all! Not that I want to compare myself to her or make this about me, but reading the article made me realize what you can accomplish by such a young age and made me wonder about my list of accomplishments. I'm about to turn 37 and I'm still serving as the Director General, Ministry of Home Affairs for the Ryan Jyoti Clan (although I used to write and do advance work for the former Chairman of Yahoo when he served on the board at my old think tank...but I digress).
My husband and I went back and forth about how challenging her dual roles will be. Yahoo needs serious help and being a new Mom is pretty exhausting work. Our discussion ended up focusing on what help money can buy you, and if money is enough to make the role of new mother "easy." There are some things people feel comfortable paying others to do for them, and the more money you have, the longer the list grows. Where do you draw the line?
Is Mayer's compensation ($100 million over the next five years) enough to pay for every service a new parent would need? My husband thinks yes; I think no. Can you really off load ALL the responsibilities new parents face? It is the outsourcing of parenthood. I hope Yahoo gives her the support she will need to fulfill some of the more critical aspects of her upcoming role of mother.
I remember how I felt in the weeks and months after having my babies, and I tell ya, I could barely return congratulatory emails, let alone put on a suit and go kick corporate butt. While Mayer may be confident she can handle it now, I wonder how her perception will change once she is in the thick of it. There are things that happen to a woman's body, brain and heart after she has a baby, and no amount of "help" can change that. While I admit I'm a total light weight, I wonder how many women can effectively work through their maternity leave without having a breakdown from the pressures involved?
Anyway, all the power to our newest version of superwoman. I sincerely wish her and Yahoo all the best and hope she proves that you can have a new baby and be a successful CEO. It would be an awesome first.
Sometimes the teacher mentions doing a "superwoman glide," but not too consistently.
Needless to say, I was blown away when I heard about a real superwoman, Marissa Mayer. Not only is she the new CEO of Yahoo Inc., but she is only 37 years-old and is six months pregnant with her first child. I was glancing over the Wall Street Journal when I saw an article, For Yahoo CEO Marissa Mayer, Two New Roles, discussing her upcoming dual roles of CEO and mother.
My jaw seriously dropped to the floor. I couldn't process it all! Not that I want to compare myself to her or make this about me, but reading the article made me realize what you can accomplish by such a young age and made me wonder about my list of accomplishments. I'm about to turn 37 and I'm still serving as the Director General, Ministry of Home Affairs for the Ryan Jyoti Clan (although I used to write and do advance work for the former Chairman of Yahoo when he served on the board at my old think tank...but I digress).
My husband and I went back and forth about how challenging her dual roles will be. Yahoo needs serious help and being a new Mom is pretty exhausting work. Our discussion ended up focusing on what help money can buy you, and if money is enough to make the role of new mother "easy." There are some things people feel comfortable paying others to do for them, and the more money you have, the longer the list grows. Where do you draw the line?
Is Mayer's compensation ($100 million over the next five years) enough to pay for every service a new parent would need? My husband thinks yes; I think no. Can you really off load ALL the responsibilities new parents face? It is the outsourcing of parenthood. I hope Yahoo gives her the support she will need to fulfill some of the more critical aspects of her upcoming role of mother.
I remember how I felt in the weeks and months after having my babies, and I tell ya, I could barely return congratulatory emails, let alone put on a suit and go kick corporate butt. While Mayer may be confident she can handle it now, I wonder how her perception will change once she is in the thick of it. There are things that happen to a woman's body, brain and heart after she has a baby, and no amount of "help" can change that. While I admit I'm a total light weight, I wonder how many women can effectively work through their maternity leave without having a breakdown from the pressures involved?
Anyway, all the power to our newest version of superwoman. I sincerely wish her and Yahoo all the best and hope she proves that you can have a new baby and be a successful CEO. It would be an awesome first.
Friday, April 13, 2012
How Was Your Spring Break?
The past week I have fielded many questions about spring break. The most popular question being, "how was your spring break?" I have been smiling and responding, "long." Depending on who I'm speaking to, they seem to either get it, or they don't.
Lot of families take advantage of the 12 day chunk and travel. We are not one of those families. We were here, out of our routine, for 12 long days. And that is why I have been responding the way I have. Because 12 days with 2 little kids out of their routine is a long time, no matter how you slice it. If that kind of thing doesn't phase you, than you are a better parent that I.
That said, we were lucky enough to get a spot for the babe at a very cool art camp at The Children's Art Studio that ran Monday through Friday. She loved it and I loved that she had something to focus her endless energy on for a nice 5 day spread.
By this past Monday, I was, however, wondering why Easter Monday really needs to be a holiday. It seems almost like cruel punishment to drag a break out like that. So by Tuesday, we were all rearing to go and jumped back into our routines with gusto.
The babe was psyched to see her peeps at school (yay!). The little guy was psyched to play with his nursery school buddies (yay!), and I served what will probably be my last co-op stint at his school (which made it easier to face since I wasn't exactly in the mood to play with 12 kids after having spent 12 days with my own 2 kids).
I don't think I will ever be the kind of Mom who enjoys things like spring and summer break, and I am OK with that. One thing's for sure, it certainly makes you appreciate the value of your regular routine.
And now that I have survived spring break, I can start stressing out about the summer. Because summer, my friends, is just around the corner.
Lot of families take advantage of the 12 day chunk and travel. We are not one of those families. We were here, out of our routine, for 12 long days. And that is why I have been responding the way I have. Because 12 days with 2 little kids out of their routine is a long time, no matter how you slice it. If that kind of thing doesn't phase you, than you are a better parent that I.
That said, we were lucky enough to get a spot for the babe at a very cool art camp at The Children's Art Studio that ran Monday through Friday. She loved it and I loved that she had something to focus her endless energy on for a nice 5 day spread.
By this past Monday, I was, however, wondering why Easter Monday really needs to be a holiday. It seems almost like cruel punishment to drag a break out like that. So by Tuesday, we were all rearing to go and jumped back into our routines with gusto.
The babe was psyched to see her peeps at school (yay!). The little guy was psyched to play with his nursery school buddies (yay!), and I served what will probably be my last co-op stint at his school (which made it easier to face since I wasn't exactly in the mood to play with 12 kids after having spent 12 days with my own 2 kids).
I don't think I will ever be the kind of Mom who enjoys things like spring and summer break, and I am OK with that. One thing's for sure, it certainly makes you appreciate the value of your regular routine.
And now that I have survived spring break, I can start stressing out about the summer. Because summer, my friends, is just around the corner.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
High Expectations
Wow. Where did that month go?
Well people, it's good to see you. I think of you often and can't wait for life to calm down so I can sit at my computer and type out my joys and sorrows.
I've recently realized that when you volunteer time, you have less of it. You may recall I have been serving as the editor of the little guy's preschool's newsletter and that I am also writing for our local community newsletter. These things take time, and when I agreed to take them on, I didn't really think about how it would effect my blogging. Apparently it has effected my blogging quite seriously.
So here I am. I have so many subjects I want to write about, I don't really know where to start. Instead of backtracking, I will start with today.
My dear Mother left for the airport this morning at 7am. She had come for a short visit and it went by so very fast...as her visits always do. While shuttling my kids to and fro this morning, I was struck by how badly I felt. You see, my kids were not well behaved during her visit and I was constantly feeling upset, stressed, embarrassed and frustrated. I felt like I had no control of my offspring and that I looked like a frantic, crazy Mama who was hanging on by a thread. And while some of that is certainly true, I know in my heart that the past few days were extreme because the kids had an audience (other than their parents). There were times when I was at a loss and just wanted to yell and scream, give up, turn on some "educational" TV and go hide in a hole. My Mom reassures me they were very well behaved whenever my husband and I were out of the house (like on our date night or our furniture shopping escapade). And while that makes me feel a bit better, why couldn't they have been like that when I was around?
During her visit, I asked my Mom a lot of questions about how she juggled all the craziness of having three small kids back in the day. She admits she doesn't remember all that much, but she did point out that she always worked part-time and that gave her a chance to get away from the house, socialize and work with adults (not spouses or relatives), and gain perspective on her family life. She encouraged me to get out of the house more and do things for myself. She also told me (in a nice way) that my life revolves around my kids.
When I sit down and look at my family's life, I will be the first to acknowledge that I am the one who is home and running the show the majority of the time. And without family back-up, there isn't much relief. Frankly, my life does revolve around my kids and I am not sure how I would be able to change that right now.
The two mornings I get alone when both of the little monsters are at school (3.5 hours a week (after drive time)!), I am pretty overrun with a hefty to do list. Frankly, there are just too many errands I am not willing to do with the little guy anymore because he has become such a fan of public meltdowns. And that means there are a lot of things to accomplish when he is not around!
But I am trying. I have actually been to a gym six times since late January (thanks to a Groupon deal). I get out to dinner or brunch with friends every few weeks. I took an anger management class for parents (which made a ton of sense in theory but is proving rather difficult to implement in reality). And I just started a leadership training course at PEP (the Parent Encouragement Program) which offers the parenting classes I've been taking over the past year. Now seriously, what else can a girl fit in??
Anyway, I'm babbling a bit here but I just had to share my frustration over the constant stress of being a stay-at-home parent of a challenging five year old and a defiant, moody and physically abusive three old. I used to complain that babies were tough (which of course they are--especially the grueling sleep deprivation and loss of self), but man oh man, it's nothing compared to the physical, emotional and mental demands I now face daily. And when everything gets even more ramped up during a five day visit from Nana, it certainly forces me to ask: "why is this (parenthood) so freakin hard and how do I make this (parenthood) better?"
My solution for today was to rush to the gym, run on a treadmill for 25 minutes, sit in a hot sauna for 10 minutes, and buy an overpriced fancy latte before grabbing a few groceries and rushing to pick up the little guy at preschool. Endorphins combined with caffeine can be a pretty awesome thing. It certainly help put things in perspective this morning.
My Mom mentioned that perhaps Mothers today are too hard on themselves. Our expectations and standards are too high and we set ourselves up for failure because there is no way we can achieve our lofty goals. There could be some truth to this. But is it too much to ask to just have kids who listen and don't give you attitude or physically attack you when they don't get their way? Is that really asking too much? And if I am embarassed by my kids crazy behavior because I take it as a reflection on my parenting abilities, does that mean I am being too hard on myself? The truth is, I just don't know.
Well people, it's good to see you. I think of you often and can't wait for life to calm down so I can sit at my computer and type out my joys and sorrows.
I've recently realized that when you volunteer time, you have less of it. You may recall I have been serving as the editor of the little guy's preschool's newsletter and that I am also writing for our local community newsletter. These things take time, and when I agreed to take them on, I didn't really think about how it would effect my blogging. Apparently it has effected my blogging quite seriously.
So here I am. I have so many subjects I want to write about, I don't really know where to start. Instead of backtracking, I will start with today.
My dear Mother left for the airport this morning at 7am. She had come for a short visit and it went by so very fast...as her visits always do. While shuttling my kids to and fro this morning, I was struck by how badly I felt. You see, my kids were not well behaved during her visit and I was constantly feeling upset, stressed, embarrassed and frustrated. I felt like I had no control of my offspring and that I looked like a frantic, crazy Mama who was hanging on by a thread. And while some of that is certainly true, I know in my heart that the past few days were extreme because the kids had an audience (other than their parents). There were times when I was at a loss and just wanted to yell and scream, give up, turn on some "educational" TV and go hide in a hole. My Mom reassures me they were very well behaved whenever my husband and I were out of the house (like on our date night or our furniture shopping escapade). And while that makes me feel a bit better, why couldn't they have been like that when I was around?
During her visit, I asked my Mom a lot of questions about how she juggled all the craziness of having three small kids back in the day. She admits she doesn't remember all that much, but she did point out that she always worked part-time and that gave her a chance to get away from the house, socialize and work with adults (not spouses or relatives), and gain perspective on her family life. She encouraged me to get out of the house more and do things for myself. She also told me (in a nice way) that my life revolves around my kids.
When I sit down and look at my family's life, I will be the first to acknowledge that I am the one who is home and running the show the majority of the time. And without family back-up, there isn't much relief. Frankly, my life does revolve around my kids and I am not sure how I would be able to change that right now.
The two mornings I get alone when both of the little monsters are at school (3.5 hours a week (after drive time)!), I am pretty overrun with a hefty to do list. Frankly, there are just too many errands I am not willing to do with the little guy anymore because he has become such a fan of public meltdowns. And that means there are a lot of things to accomplish when he is not around!
But I am trying. I have actually been to a gym six times since late January (thanks to a Groupon deal). I get out to dinner or brunch with friends every few weeks. I took an anger management class for parents (which made a ton of sense in theory but is proving rather difficult to implement in reality). And I just started a leadership training course at PEP (the Parent Encouragement Program) which offers the parenting classes I've been taking over the past year. Now seriously, what else can a girl fit in??
Anyway, I'm babbling a bit here but I just had to share my frustration over the constant stress of being a stay-at-home parent of a challenging five year old and a defiant, moody and physically abusive three old. I used to complain that babies were tough (which of course they are--especially the grueling sleep deprivation and loss of self), but man oh man, it's nothing compared to the physical, emotional and mental demands I now face daily. And when everything gets even more ramped up during a five day visit from Nana, it certainly forces me to ask: "why is this (parenthood) so freakin hard and how do I make this (parenthood) better?"
My solution for today was to rush to the gym, run on a treadmill for 25 minutes, sit in a hot sauna for 10 minutes, and buy an overpriced fancy latte before grabbing a few groceries and rushing to pick up the little guy at preschool. Endorphins combined with caffeine can be a pretty awesome thing. It certainly help put things in perspective this morning.
My Mom mentioned that perhaps Mothers today are too hard on themselves. Our expectations and standards are too high and we set ourselves up for failure because there is no way we can achieve our lofty goals. There could be some truth to this. But is it too much to ask to just have kids who listen and don't give you attitude or physically attack you when they don't get their way? Is that really asking too much? And if I am embarassed by my kids crazy behavior because I take it as a reflection on my parenting abilities, does that mean I am being too hard on myself? The truth is, I just don't know.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Keep Calm and Carry On
I was so happy to get back from the holidays. There's nothing like sleeping in your own bed after being on the road with kids for a few weeks. And there's nothing like returning to your routine. I would be lost without our routine and I rely on it heavily. Last Monday I realized that even a "long weekend" is enough to throw me off. Sadly, I am the kind of Mama who is burnt out after spending a few days straight with my kids...without our routine.
I won't get into details, but the highlight of last Monday morning was driving around downtown Washington trying to find a parking spot so we could go to the Natural History Museum. I had forgotten that everyone else would be doing the exact same thing as the museum is located on the National Mall and Monday was Martin Luther King Jr. Day. After 45 minutes of circling the museum to the North, South, East and West, and having every spot I had identified stolen by a more aggressive driver, I lost it. I hit my steering wheel, started crying and mumbling crazily that I was NEVER going to find a spot and that I was just going to have to GIVE UP. My daughter was already crying as we were supposed to be meeting her friend inside the museum and my son started wailing because he wanted to see the dinosaurs.
I like to consider myself a good driver with relatively crafty downtown navigation abilities, but I simply could not find my parking mojo on Monday. It killed me to do it, but I actually had to give up and create an alternative plan to try and make it up to my kids. We headed to Georgetown to watch the ducks on the river and grab a snack by the C&O Canal. I recovered the morning, kind of, but felt so terrible about my inability to keep my cool in front of my kids. What kind of example was I setting as I blubbered my self deprecating nonsense, occasionally yelling at parking spot stealers while pounding my steering wheel in frustration?
I don't want to be that kind of Mom. I want them to learn how to keep their cool. I want them to learn how to not take the wrong things too seriously. I want them to learn how to find humour in the every day struggle (although we did manage to laugh about it on the drive home as I fed them cookies and played their favorite annoying Little People CD).
All this is to say that I am tired of not being able to stay as calm as I would like when I am presented with life's constant little challenges. I don't want to yell and freak out when things don't go my way or when my kids do the things that kids do. I don't want them to be afraid of me and the possible reaction I may have.
That's a lot of things that I want and that I don't want. But other than tattooing "Keep Calm and Carry On" in some highly visible location, how can I deal with this unsavory part of my self?
I went to a lecture at the little guy's school last night on "How to Raise a Responsible Child" and I was reminded how important my role is in developing my kids' character. They learn from what they see and I need to teach them by setting a good example. This is SO OBVIOUS yet so hard to remember on a minute by minute basis.
When I lose my cool, they must think that it is OK to lose your cool. When I am checking emails and not listening to them, and then get annoyed and snap when they keep "bugging" me, they are learning that it is OK to ignore people while you fiddle with a technological gadget. And when I yell at them in the grocery store (or any public place, really) because their behavior is less than exemplary, I am embarrassing both myself and them because I should be able to think of more creative ways to handle situations that I have been consistently confronted with for the past 5 years. If I can not be a responsible parent, how can I expect them to be responsible kids?
Yikes!!!!! They are going to need years of therapy because of me!!
So I am taking a small step. I got home from last night's lecture and signed up for Managing Anger: A Parents Guide which is being offered at the Parent Encouragement Program (PEP), the same folks who held the preschooler classes I took last winter. It is only 3 sessions, but I am hoping the 6 hours of instruction, thought and discussion will help me learn how to better deal with my parental frustrations.
Because as much as I'd like to make it to yoga and work on my deep breathing techniques, I think I am in need of a supportive classroom environment where I can remember that I am not alone in this. Parenting is the hardest thing I have ever done and I want to make sure that I am doing it to the best of my abilities. What is that wise old saying, again? Nothing good comes easily? Well I am going to work on this and while I would not call it a New Year's resolution, I am hoping I can become a better Mama so my kids will end up better people.
I won't get into details, but the highlight of last Monday morning was driving around downtown Washington trying to find a parking spot so we could go to the Natural History Museum. I had forgotten that everyone else would be doing the exact same thing as the museum is located on the National Mall and Monday was Martin Luther King Jr. Day. After 45 minutes of circling the museum to the North, South, East and West, and having every spot I had identified stolen by a more aggressive driver, I lost it. I hit my steering wheel, started crying and mumbling crazily that I was NEVER going to find a spot and that I was just going to have to GIVE UP. My daughter was already crying as we were supposed to be meeting her friend inside the museum and my son started wailing because he wanted to see the dinosaurs.
I like to consider myself a good driver with relatively crafty downtown navigation abilities, but I simply could not find my parking mojo on Monday. It killed me to do it, but I actually had to give up and create an alternative plan to try and make it up to my kids. We headed to Georgetown to watch the ducks on the river and grab a snack by the C&O Canal. I recovered the morning, kind of, but felt so terrible about my inability to keep my cool in front of my kids. What kind of example was I setting as I blubbered my self deprecating nonsense, occasionally yelling at parking spot stealers while pounding my steering wheel in frustration?
I don't want to be that kind of Mom. I want them to learn how to keep their cool. I want them to learn how to not take the wrong things too seriously. I want them to learn how to find humour in the every day struggle (although we did manage to laugh about it on the drive home as I fed them cookies and played their favorite annoying Little People CD).
All this is to say that I am tired of not being able to stay as calm as I would like when I am presented with life's constant little challenges. I don't want to yell and freak out when things don't go my way or when my kids do the things that kids do. I don't want them to be afraid of me and the possible reaction I may have.
I went to a lecture at the little guy's school last night on "How to Raise a Responsible Child" and I was reminded how important my role is in developing my kids' character. They learn from what they see and I need to teach them by setting a good example. This is SO OBVIOUS yet so hard to remember on a minute by minute basis.
When I lose my cool, they must think that it is OK to lose your cool. When I am checking emails and not listening to them, and then get annoyed and snap when they keep "bugging" me, they are learning that it is OK to ignore people while you fiddle with a technological gadget. And when I yell at them in the grocery store (or any public place, really) because their behavior is less than exemplary, I am embarrassing both myself and them because I should be able to think of more creative ways to handle situations that I have been consistently confronted with for the past 5 years. If I can not be a responsible parent, how can I expect them to be responsible kids?
Yikes!!!!! They are going to need years of therapy because of me!!
So I am taking a small step. I got home from last night's lecture and signed up for Managing Anger: A Parents Guide which is being offered at the Parent Encouragement Program (PEP), the same folks who held the preschooler classes I took last winter. It is only 3 sessions, but I am hoping the 6 hours of instruction, thought and discussion will help me learn how to better deal with my parental frustrations.
Because as much as I'd like to make it to yoga and work on my deep breathing techniques, I think I am in need of a supportive classroom environment where I can remember that I am not alone in this. Parenting is the hardest thing I have ever done and I want to make sure that I am doing it to the best of my abilities. What is that wise old saying, again? Nothing good comes easily? Well I am going to work on this and while I would not call it a New Year's resolution, I am hoping I can become a better Mama so my kids will end up better people.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Mama Brain
Once you get "Mama Brain," does it ever go away?
I have heard a variety of pretty impressive Mama Brain stories in the past few weeks and just have to share. I am not naming any names, except my own.
The week before last was the bake sale at the babe's school. I whipped up some nut-free chocolate muffin cupcake kinda things during the little guy's nap time. At 3:00 pm, we ran out the door to pick up the babe. About 5 minutes into our journey, I had a panic attack. Did I turn off the oven? What to do? Do I risk being late for pick up (for the first time ever) or do I swing around and go check? As we were headed to an after school play date I decided I had no choice but to turn around. It's a good thing I did, because the oven was on. And there was nothing in it. This was not good.
I recounted this story the next day to another Mama while purchasing tasty treats at the bake sale. She one upped me (and I was thrilled she shared this story with me so I could share it with you). This Mama, who will remain nameless, had gone for a manicure in her precious down time. When it came time to leave the salon, she couldn't find her keys. After retracing her steps and walking to the coffee shop she had visited just prior to the salon, she walked back to her car (which was parked on a major road) expecting to see the keys in the ignition. Yes, the keys were in the ignition. But hold on. It gets better. Not only were the keys in the ignition, the car was on and the doors were unlocked.
Last night an email message came in from one of the school list serves I am subscribed to. A Mama admitted to leaving her stroller in the parking lot of a grocery store and was wondering if anyone had an extra they could spare? At least she didn't forget the kids, she joked.
And another Mama I know just admitted she had left her Snap and Go in a folded down position by the side of the road for a few days before she realized what she'd done. It was still there when she went back to pick it up.
No one was hurt in any of these stories. And hopefully you feel better about yourself now. Because remember, "we're not perfect...no we're not."
I have heard a variety of pretty impressive Mama Brain stories in the past few weeks and just have to share. I am not naming any names, except my own.
The week before last was the bake sale at the babe's school. I whipped up some nut-free chocolate muffin cupcake kinda things during the little guy's nap time. At 3:00 pm, we ran out the door to pick up the babe. About 5 minutes into our journey, I had a panic attack. Did I turn off the oven? What to do? Do I risk being late for pick up (for the first time ever) or do I swing around and go check? As we were headed to an after school play date I decided I had no choice but to turn around. It's a good thing I did, because the oven was on. And there was nothing in it. This was not good.
I recounted this story the next day to another Mama while purchasing tasty treats at the bake sale. She one upped me (and I was thrilled she shared this story with me so I could share it with you). This Mama, who will remain nameless, had gone for a manicure in her precious down time. When it came time to leave the salon, she couldn't find her keys. After retracing her steps and walking to the coffee shop she had visited just prior to the salon, she walked back to her car (which was parked on a major road) expecting to see the keys in the ignition. Yes, the keys were in the ignition. But hold on. It gets better. Not only were the keys in the ignition, the car was on and the doors were unlocked.
Last night an email message came in from one of the school list serves I am subscribed to. A Mama admitted to leaving her stroller in the parking lot of a grocery store and was wondering if anyone had an extra they could spare? At least she didn't forget the kids, she joked.
And another Mama I know just admitted she had left her Snap and Go in a folded down position by the side of the road for a few days before she realized what she'd done. It was still there when she went back to pick it up.
No one was hurt in any of these stories. And hopefully you feel better about yourself now. Because remember, "we're not perfect...no we're not."
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Parenting Pointers
A few weeks ago I was having a hard time remembering all the things I'm supposed to be doing to be an awesome Mom. So I jotted down some bullet points from my parenting classes and taped them up on the kitchen wall. I meant to share them here for Mother's Day, but was too busy having an awesome time by myself at the outlet mall (thanks to my husband for allowing me to take off for 7 hours--the best Mother's Day present I could have asked for!).
I hope some (or all) of the following points are helpful:
Remember:
I hope some (or all) of the following points are helpful:
Remember:
- Be a role model
- Act more and talk less
- Love the kids when they least deserve it because that's when they need it the most
- Appreciate and acknowledge effort
- Kids love being useful so put them to work
- Be firm but friendly
- Ask kids for their ideas
- Make time to play
- Set the stage for success
- Actively listen to them
- Mistakes are OK--it's how we learn
- Connection then correction
- Encourage, encourage. Not praise, praise.
- Explain "when...then..." For instance, "when you finish cleaning your room, then we can go to the park."
- Set limits and don't back down under pressure
- Train kids so they can be involved. Teach them responsibility
- Use a timer (like setting your cell phone alarm to go off when it's time to leave the park)
- Use reverse psychology
- Be more playful--make a joke to diffuse the tension
- Respect each other
- Let kids make choices
- Explain "either...or..." For instance, "either you wear the blue sweater or the green one. Your choice."
- Discipline, not punishment
- Be more specific so they can replicate the action in the future. For instance, "I noticed that..."
- Focus on the process, not the final product
- See things from their point of view and recognize their feelings
- Smiles, hugs, and kisses go a long way
- Stand back and don't rush in to rescue them
- Don't hold a grudge
- Simplify the kids environment
- Set realistic expectations
- Plan ahead so things can go smoothly
- Allow kids to experience the natural consequences of their actions
- Redirect attention
- Allow time for transitions
- Anticipate and prepare for difficult situations
- Stick to the routine
- Do not blow your stack when kids try to engage you in a battle--lead by example
- Have the courage to be imperfect
Friday, May 13, 2011
Growing Into Parenthood
I recently mentioned an article I had read about pre-baby marriage counseling to a dear friend who just had her second baby. She just happens to be a counselor herself and is interested in training to provide this kind of counseling.
You should check out this April 28, 2011 Wall Street Journal article, So Cute, So Hard on A Marriage, by Andrea Petersen. It is interesting reading and makes a lot of valid points. People don't know how stressful having a baby can be until they do it themselves. Partners also don't understand the kind of pressures and stresses having children can put on their marriage. So the idea of getting some pre-baby therapy could be pretty darn helpful for folks, I'd think.
I somehow managed to stumble upon the May 4th follow-up Letters to the Editor (I am not that dedicated of a reader). I found it amusing and disturbing that it was under the heading "Relax and Accept Parenthood Joyfully." Well of course we all want to relax and accept parenthood joyfully, but when it comes down to it, there is a lot of work that needs to be done which makes relaxing rather difficult, and there are many times when joy isn't exactly the emotion we are relating to.
From the tone of the letters, I am guessing they were mostly written by folks who have grown children and who have forgotten how demanding being a parent of young kids can be. The letters unfortunately appear to be anti-therapy and rather traditional in mindset. However, one particular letter from Sue Cuthbertson of Yucaipa, California, really stuck with me: "It takes time to grow into parenthood. Take a deep breath, don't expect a bed of roses, and love each other, remembering that love is an act of will. Then, when your children reach adulthood, you can exhale together and pat each other on the back for a job well done."
I thank Ms. Cuthbertson for drawing attention to the simple truth that it does take time to grow into parenthood, and I imagine we all do it on different time lines. Perhaps this is another factor which influences how successful marriages will be in navigating the ups and downs of life with kids.
All in all, I've always thought that people generally don't speak openly about difficult subjects (like having babies). There is an important distinction which is often overlooked; just because you acknowledge the difficulties of parenting, it does not mean you are not grateful to be a parent. I think if folks are wise enough to get a bit of advance training, it will only help them on their journey.
This one is for my sweet friend, K, over at A Mama Being.
You should check out this April 28, 2011 Wall Street Journal article, So Cute, So Hard on A Marriage, by Andrea Petersen. It is interesting reading and makes a lot of valid points. People don't know how stressful having a baby can be until they do it themselves. Partners also don't understand the kind of pressures and stresses having children can put on their marriage. So the idea of getting some pre-baby therapy could be pretty darn helpful for folks, I'd think.
I somehow managed to stumble upon the May 4th follow-up Letters to the Editor (I am not that dedicated of a reader). I found it amusing and disturbing that it was under the heading "Relax and Accept Parenthood Joyfully." Well of course we all want to relax and accept parenthood joyfully, but when it comes down to it, there is a lot of work that needs to be done which makes relaxing rather difficult, and there are many times when joy isn't exactly the emotion we are relating to.
From the tone of the letters, I am guessing they were mostly written by folks who have grown children and who have forgotten how demanding being a parent of young kids can be. The letters unfortunately appear to be anti-therapy and rather traditional in mindset. However, one particular letter from Sue Cuthbertson of Yucaipa, California, really stuck with me: "It takes time to grow into parenthood. Take a deep breath, don't expect a bed of roses, and love each other, remembering that love is an act of will. Then, when your children reach adulthood, you can exhale together and pat each other on the back for a job well done."
I thank Ms. Cuthbertson for drawing attention to the simple truth that it does take time to grow into parenthood, and I imagine we all do it on different time lines. Perhaps this is another factor which influences how successful marriages will be in navigating the ups and downs of life with kids.
All in all, I've always thought that people generally don't speak openly about difficult subjects (like having babies). There is an important distinction which is often overlooked; just because you acknowledge the difficulties of parenting, it does not mean you are not grateful to be a parent. I think if folks are wise enough to get a bit of advance training, it will only help them on their journey.
This one is for my sweet friend, K, over at A Mama Being.
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