What Not To Wear

I hope I'm not shattering any illusions out there, but sometimes being a mom can be quite...um, what can I say to soften the truth...less than glamorous, shall we say?

Unglamorous. Yes, I like that, let’s run with that one. Let me illustrate what I mean with a delightful anecdote from what should have been a very uneventful outing. I just finished dropping off my daughter at dance class, and although I'm freshly showered and smell like the tropics, I'm hiding out in my car, too embarrassed to step out into the light of day.

Mind you, I didn't set out to look this way, but sadly, the end result of the matter is that I look like "that mom"; you know, the one that everyone looks upon with pity and concludes: "Poor thing, she's given up on life."

I have no one to blame but myself. It all started when I lingered in the shower a little bit longer than I should have and then had to throw on the first thing I could find to avoid making my daughter late. Ironically, I was initially rather impressed with myself.

My selection consisted of my favorite black yoga pants (they're stretchy, as all pants should be), a black turtleneck (can't go wrong with a classic), and some shimmery ballet flats (for that touch of sparkle). I threw my damp, tangled mess of curls into a bun and convinced myself that I had really pulled it together at the last minute and was feeling quite confident. After all, my outfit was slimming, smart, and dare I say, sexy? Ok, no—I agree—maybe that last one was a stretch, alright, I’ll admit it…a far stretch, I mean, how sexy can a black turtleneck really be?

Anyway, my delusion began unraveling almost instantly as I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the front hallway mirror and realized, with only seconds to race towards the car to get to dance class on time, that my shirt was on backwards! The downward spiral escalated quickly...as I started driving off, I looked down and noticed a large, peculiar stain smeared just above my knees that corresponds to the exact height of my son's nose. I never imagined that, one day, I would become a human tissue (sigh).

Now, I know that saliva just doesn't equal the stain-fighting power of Tide, but, like any other desperate person would do in the same situation, I abandoned reason and desperately proceeded to spit-groom my pants. It wasn't working, so, having lost sight of logic and venturing into the dark side of panic, I concluded I just wasn't using enough spit and aggressively stepped-up my efforts. Looking back, that was not my proudest moment.

As I continued the attempt to save my pants while driving, I caught another glimpse of myself in the rearview and, this time, discovered that my eyebrows have been secretly plotting a merger and are dangerously close to forming a uni-brow.

Ugh! How did I let this happen? In the back of my head, I could hear my best friend's words from a recent conversation condemning me..."Let's vow never to leave the house looking like that!"

Needless to say, my plans to stop at the local coffeehouse while my daughter wraps up dance class have been indefinitely postponed. I don't dare venture out beyond the safety of my tinted windows. I have a knack for always running into someone I know on those very rare moments when I look...well...unglamorous.

The Age of Innocence

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My daughter spent part of yesterday’s “snow day” joyfully prancing around the house in her frilly pink tutu and bejeweled tiara, which she affectionately refers to as her crown.

“Crowns make people beautiful,” she said to me in a very matter-of-fact manner.

“Yes, that’s right,” I agreed, trying to keep a straight face as I visualized an old and wrinkled queen wearing a crown.

“I guess the crown just doesn’t work for everyone,” I laughed quietly to myself.

As I watched her perfecting the art of twirling in circles while balancing a crown on her head, I wondered when that day will come when she feels too old to play dress up and dance like a princess. Sometimes she tells me she wants to be older. If only she knew that when you are finally old enough to be “older”, you wish you could be younger.

So in that fleeting moment, as she was blissfully waltzing around the living room without a care in the world, with a tinge of sadness, I tried not to think about tomorrow, as tomorrow inevitably always comes whether or not you’re ready for it.

Reading Between the Lines

Anthony pouring his own cereal

Does the phrase, "I did it myself," make you a little nervous? Well, it should! Remember the baby butt cream incident?

In my experience, there are a few catchphrases our children use to alert us to the fact that either they are about to or already have done something they shouldn't have. In either case, swift and immediate action should be taken upon hearing any one of these phrases. I know this because on two recent occasions where I ignored the warning signs, I ended up with a flooded bathroom and a toddler covered in red lipstick (not in the same day, of course, as that would have been enough to put me over the edge, which for some odd reason feels like it's getting closer and closer...hmm...weird). I share this with you so that you may be forewarned and spared the calamity.

Here are the top 3 phrases your children use to alert you about trouble up ahead, and what they mean for you:

When your child says...

1. "I did it myself!"

What your child really means is...

"I know I shouldn't have tried this on my own, but...I did it anyway."

This phrase is a mixed bag, as on the one hand, you can't help but feel a measure of pride over your child's semi-accomplishment, but on the other hand, it usually involves cleaning up some kind of mess. The picture at the top of this entry was one of those independent moments where my son tried to pour his own cereal (sigh).

When your child says...

2. "I have to go pee-pee!!!"

What your child really means is...

"I snuck in two extra juice boxes while you weren't looking and actually needed to go well over an hour ago but was too busy playing, and now I am about to pee on myself."

Always take this one seriously, as failure to do so will result in some floor-washing and laundry time. One time my son told me he had to go while I was driving, and although I realize now I should have just pulled over immediately, I told him not to go in the car and that I was going to find the nearest bathroom. I glanced in the rear-view mirror and noticed he did not look all that distressed for someone who was just urgently pleading to go, so I asked him if had gone in the car...he calmly and confidently reassured me that he didn't go in the car: "NOPE! I just went in my pants" (exasperated sigh).

Finally, when your child screams...

3. "MOMMM!!!!"

What your child really means is...

"Something really bad just happened."

Run! Run like the wind and be prepared for anything! Although this is the most ambiguous of all phrases as it could mean almost anything, it's also the most ominous of them all. In my experience, it could mean anything from someone is stuck somewhere they shouldn't be or something really special and sentimentally valuable has been broken. Honestly, I have never heard my name screamed like this when something good happens. No, it's bad, really bad, like the time the bathroom was flooded and Anthony was covered head-to-toe in red lipstick (really long and drawn out sigh).

Say What?

Occasionally, I feel like I need a translator when my children talk to me. It's as if I am a foreigner in their fantasy land of made up words. Today, for example, as my daughter was sharing a story about one of her classmates, who happened to miss school, she explained that "she was 'apusent'".

"Absent?" I asked.

"Yeah, 'apusent'," she replied, implying that that was exactly what she had just said.

Yeah...right, of course. Sometimes the mispronounced words can be downright confusing. At other times, they are just plain amusing, especially in instances when words are misapplied.

Every night, for example, when Aloni says her prayers, she addresses God as her "heavenly Fodder". I can't help but smile and wonder if God finds it equally amusing that she refers to Him as a divine bale of hay on a regular basis.

I think my absolute favorite faux pas is when she affectionately refers to Anthony as her baby "bwudder". He has been her baby bwudder since before he was born, and I hope he will be her baby bwudder for the rest of her life.

Repeat After Me...I am Not a Super Woman...



Bing image search: superwoman


My mommy friends will occasionally ask me, "Have you felt guilty about (insert your biggest guilt here)?", and the answer is always a resounding YES!

ALL THE TIME!

Let's face it: MotherWomanhood is fraught with a measure of guilt. It seems like we can always find something to feel guilty about...not spending enough time with our children...not giving them enough space. The list of possibilities is endless. You are probably thinking of something you feel guilty about right now.

Speaking of guilt, every night before I go to bed, I stop by my children's rooms after they have fallen asleep and I check on them. I make sure the temperature in their room is just right, that they are not falling out of their beds, as I usually find them asleep as if they just collapsed onto their beds in mid-flight, and I hug and kiss them. Then, I take a step back, and I just stare at them. There is nothing more beautiful to me than a sleeping child. I study their ever-changing faces. I close my eyes and try to freeze-frame a picture of them in my mind. Then, I always find myself coming back to the same question...

If I could live this day all over again,

what would I have done differently?

I'll pause and reflect on my day, and I'll usually think of at least one thing I said or did or didn't do that I wish I had done differently. Someone once told me that being a parent is not the hardest thing in the world, no, it's being a parent while trying to be everything else that's truly hard. Unfortunately, it's this delicate balancing act where I struggle the most. Often, it's when I'm exhausted and frustrated from "everything else" that I lose my patience with my children, and it usually has nothing to do with anything in particular that they did or didn't do; it was just that "one last straw" on top of everything else. That's when I remind myself that I am not a super woman. I am a MotherWoman.

I try not to second-guess myself at the time, and I realize that given more time to think on a matter, of course I might have come to another solution or alternative as to how I could have handled the situation. Any mother will tell you that hindsight is 20/20. At some point, I have to learn to live with myself, and accepting my own shortcomings is a start.

So, instead of recalling something I wish I could change, I'll try to recall a magical moment that happened that day that I wouldn't change a thing about, and then I will replay it again and again in my mind, hoping to remember it forever.

At the end of the day, I never want these moments to be overshadowed by guilt.

So when you are feeling overwhelmed or guilty for not being everything to everyone exactly as you'd like to be...repeat after me: I am not a super woman, I am a MotherWoman.

Confessions of a MotherWoman

I am sitting on a comfy chair at one of my favorite places, Barnes and Nobles, trying not to feel guilty about not tucking the kids into bed. Ok, that's not entirely true. I'm trying not to feel guilty about the fact that I don't feel guilty at all about not tucking the kids into bed, hence the confession. My evening class finished early, and I could have gone home early and helped my husband with the whole process of getting the children to bed...but I didn't.
I know this may sound shocking, but there are nights where I would rather not read my daughter her tenth bedtime story or sing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" for the hundredth time to my son. No, every now and then, there are times when I just want to curl into a ball on a comfy chair and just be. Just sit quietly and just be. So let's just keep this between you and me, OK? It will be our little secret.

Girl Meets Boy

Bing search: bath time

My son has a special friend, Lulu, that comes over our house once in a while to play. Lulu and Anthony have been friends 'from the womb', as Lulu's mom and I overlapped in pregnancies, albeit rather briefly; I was just a few weeks pregnant when Lulu was born.

Since birth, they have done absolutely everything together. Played together. Laughed together. Cried together, although that's usually because one hit the other, but that's beside the point.

Up until recently, they even shared bath time together. Given the fact that both of them seemed blissfully unaware of the gender difference between them, it had never been a problem. That is, until recently...

My son and Lulu were taking a bath together the other day, as on any other day, except for one minor detail. Lulu looked down and noticed the obvious that had previously escaped her attention, and as she pointed to it, she very seriously inquired:

"What's that?"

"Well, that's Anthony's pee-pee."

"Where's mine?"

"You don't have one."

"Well, WHY NOT?"

"Because you're a girl and he's a boy, silly, that's why!"

I was amused, but she, clearly, was not. Her eyes opened wide in amazement. Her bottom lip dropped to the floor. This was a revelation! She paused to reflect on what this meant. Then, she turned her attention away from me and directed her focus squarely on Anthony.

"Hey Anthony! Hey, I'm talking to you. Did you know that you are a boy?"

"NO! I ANTHONY!"

Not exactly sure what a boy was and not liking the idea of being accused of something he's not sure about in such a hostile tone, he vehemently denied it.

"NO! You ARE A BOY!!!"

"NOO! I ANTHONY!!!"

A heated argument quickly ensued. Bubbles started flying. At that moment, I don't think Anthony was prepared to handle the truth, and Lulu was not prepared to let it go until he acknowledged it. I quickly separated them and put them down for a nap until I could figure out how best to handle the situation. I called Lulu's mom to let her know about her 'discovery', and on a later occasion, I did explain to Anthony that he, in fact, was a boy. He seemed alright with it once he understood it. Unfortunately, bath time will never be the same again.

You Might Be a MotherWoman If...

You know what these are...

You have a few of them lying around the house...

You may even wear them!

Wonder Moments

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There are times when being a motherwoman can be so stressful you actually wonder what life would have been like if you hadn't had kids. We have all been there. The guilt you feel afterward for thinking that way is heart wrenching.

Then, there are those moments that remind you about how absolutely wonderful being a motherwoman can be and you can't imagine life without your children. The surprising thing is that most of those moments are never the landmark moments you'd expect to draw such an emotional reaction from, like baby's first steps or the first day of kindergarten. No, more often than not, they are the very small unexpected moments in between moments that can melt your heart.

Take the other day, for example. I was washing the dishes, wondering how it is possible to go through every fork, dish, and cup we own on a daily basis and debating whether or not we should go Moroccan and just start eating with our hands directly from the serving dish when my son came up to me and pleaded, "Up, up, Mommy. Uppa." Whenever he talks that way, I know he just wants some loving and reassurance from me.

I actually groaned, thinking to myself, "If I stop what I'm doing now, I may never finish this pile of dishes and it will haunt me for the rest of the day."

I was tempted to tell him, "Not now."

But then, as I looked down at his little face and outstretched arms, just begging me to hold him, I realized that the dishes could wait. After all, what could possibly be more important than loving him? And at moments like these when I face the dilemma of finishing a neccessary task and spending time with my children, I wonder...what if this is the last time he wants me to cuddle him like that?

I imagined us fifteen years into the future...my petite little frame crushed under the weight of this giant man-child teenager with long, awkward arms and legs trying to nestle into my lap for some cuddling...yeah, it's not likely he'll want to be held this way forever.

I crouched down so that he could climb on and I just wrapped my arms tightly around him and hugged him. He reciprocated joyfully by wrapping his chubby little hands tightly around my neck and smooshing his delightfully squishy face into mine. For that moment, time really did stand still. It was absolutely wonderful to get lost in that embrace with him. It didn't last, though.

"PUT ME DOWN!” he demanded, as if I had just held him against his will.

I laughed. How quickly he moves on! After receiving reassurance from me that I loved him without reservations, he was ready to face the world and begin a new adventure.

You see, it's those little moments that can really make the experience of being a motherwoman truly satisfying and worthwhile. In celebration of hugging moments, here's a little poem from Shel Silverstein, one of the best children's poetry writer ever...

Excerpt from "Where the Sidewalk Ends," by Shel Silverstein
Click here to visit his site!

Culture Shock

During a recent visit with a new-mom friend of mine, my friend admitted that no one had really told her the whole story about how challenging parenting can be sometimes, which left her completely unprepared for those first few weeks after the baby is born.

You spend nine months dreaming about how wonderful it will be to hold your beautiful baby in your arms for the very first time, and it truly is an awe-inspiring and magical moment. But, then, after that moment comes and goes, as all wonderful moments tend to do, you are left with the overwhelming awareness of what it takes to take care of that completely helpless and dependent little person.

Well, I pride myself in honesty, so as a public service, from one motherwoman to another, I am going to shed some light on some the very real challenges that come with becoming a new mom, and some coping methods I have learned along the way.

First, we'll start with the subject of sleep...

Forget sleeping for a very, very, very long time.

One of the hardest adjustments any new mom will have to make is getting by on a seemingly impossible amount of sleep—virtually none at times. To this day, I still feel like I have yet to recover. Remember the "Sleepless in Seattle" post?

As you well know, the effects of sleep deprivation can be devastating! Don't underestimate it. Sleep deprivation turns you into an un-intelligible zombie—you can't remember your own name or even form coherent sentences. I don't know how many times I would aimlessly wander around the house in search of something I was looking for, only to realize I actually did not remember what exactly I was supposed to be looking for. On another very sleep-deprived occasion, I misplaced my son. Oh, don’t worry, my husband did eventually find him and no harm was done…and it only happened once...but more on that another time.

My advice for coping with the lack of sleep...

Forget chores, errands, cooking, even showering. When your baby sleeps, YOU sleep! And in case your baby isn't sleeping as much as you'd like, recruit a loved one to watch your baby for a while, and steal some sleep. I have a single girlfriend who graciously allows me to just drop by and crash on her futon for nap, no explanation necessary. If you can't find a single friend who has no children and would be willing to give you a key to the apartment so that you can steal some sleep, now is the time get one, but you’ll have to get your own, mine’s taken.

Bottom line on sleep…

Sleep deprivation can render you completely useless, so put it high on your priority list and do whatever you can to get some!

Now, I know there are other areas of life that are forever altered by the birth of a child. I'll tell you more about them in future posts. You'll just have to keep reading to find out!

By the way, how have you coped with sleep deprivation after the birth of your baby? Do you have any funny stories about how sleep deprivation turned you into a zombie? Hopefully, you did not misplace your baby...yes, I know...that's pretty bad. What can I say? I was half asleep.

You Might Be a MotherWoman If...

You learned from several near-death experiences that toys on the floor can be quite hazardous to your health...

Picture by Explodingdog.com

When a fork is not enough

For the sake of my daughter's self-worth, I need to run out and get chopsticks today. I must get them right away. Let me explain. It all started when she was watching Ni Hao Kai-Lan, a cartoon that exposes children to Chinese culture, and was left with an inferiority complex after watching the show.

She asked me if Chinese people can eat with forks. Sure, it seemed like an innocent question, but I have learned that a question is never just a question, at least not with her. Remember when she asked me what I was going to leave her when I die? I was not sure where she was going with this particular question, but I had a feeling I was walking into a sticky situation judging by the serious look on her face.

"I'm sure most of them can, honey", I replied.

Wrong answer! I could tell by the concern in her furrowed little brows that that was not the answer she was hoping to hear, although I had yet to understand how that could possibly be a problem.

"Ugh! Great! Chinese people can eat with both a fork and chopsticks, but I only know how to eat with a fork", she exclaims in disbelief.

"Yes, that's tragic", I thought to myself in a moment of pure cynicism.

She was still staring at me in her typical wide-eyed anticipation, waiting for some glimmer of hope in the midst of despair.

"Would you like some chopsticks?"

"Really? Oh, yes, please! Then I'll be able to eat with both a fork and chopsticks!"

"Right...yes...because what would life be like if you only ate with a fork?", I continued sarcastically monologuing to myself. She grinned from ear to ear. My cynicism melted into a smile. I actually can't wait to get her those chopsticks, as I know this about so much more than just chopsticks. Hey, she could have asked for a pony.

Morningitis

I began my blog with a warm and endearing entry about the joys of entering motherwomanhood. I forewarn you that what you are about to read may be very disturbing, so if you would like to hold on to the illusion that motherwomanhood will always be a joyous experience, then stop reading this right now! The truth is there are often many days in motherwomanhood that are all guts and no glory.

Fast-forward from the days of spending endless hours staring at a sleeping infant bundled cozily in my arms to the present, where I find myself wishing someone would bundle me tightly in a snug little blanket and place me in a dark, quiet, padded room. I will now direct your attention to a plague that blindsides unsuspecting motherwoman everywhere at the most ungodly hour, or as I know it, the morning.

The plague is morningitis. The symptoms of morningitis are very similar to those of severe cases of dementia or Alzheimer’s. Disorientation is common. Children who are suffering from morningitis have a difficult time identifying what day or time it is and may require assistance with the most basic daily living functions, such as dressing and feeding themselves. Although they need close supervision and constant re-directing at this critical time, they may strongly resist such attempts to help. In severe cases, some have been known to wander aimlessly in circles while in their underwear with one sock on, unresponsive to their names when called.

The most important to thing to do when encountering this phenomenon is to remain calm—people may be watching...

I remember during one particularly bad episode of morningitis, I was standing helplessly in my driveway, barely holding back a tidal wave of tears of frustration, moments away from hurling myself against the pavement in a psychotic tantrum of my own as I watched my then four-year old daughter stumble around the car in circles, like a drunk, blind man. It was if she had never seen a car before and just did not know what to do, which was as simple as opening the door and getting into the vehicle.

I had to pause and breathe deeply between each word to re-compose myself as I completed the usual morning ritual with the most obvious and unnecessary reminder:

GET...

IN...

THE...

CAAAARRRR!!!

As the last word violently spewed from my trembling lips, I noticed my neighbor watching the ridiculous drama unfolding in stunned silence.

"Good morning, Paul," I managed to squeak out in complete humiliation.

 "Good morning," he replied, baffled, yet amused.

"Well, have a nice day," I offered apologetically, as I tried to stuff my screaming child into her car seat.

"Have a nice day," he said with an amused grin.

I share this story so that you will be forewarned. Morningitis is a very real and serious condition for which there is no cure at this time. I believe it may be the cause of countless nervous breakdowns. Remember, above all, remain calm. Among the many reasons for doing so, one of them is people are watching. They are watching and waiting to see you unravel. Don't give them the satisfaction. Smile and wave as you buckle your half-naked screaming child into the car and then drive off with that plastered smile just like the best of the Stepford wives and ignore the piercing screams emanating from the backseat. Just smile and wave.

You Might Be a MotherWoman If...

You find Cheerios in the strangest of places...

Sleepless in Seattle

I was trying to take a nap today—yes, that's right—a nap. I am not embarrassed to admit it. In fact, I'll be so brazen as to openly confess to all my readers that it's not the first time, either. I've taken LOTS of naps! There, I said it. Don't judge me because I believe in naps.

Now, if you're feeling the slightest bit jealous, it's probably just because you need a nap yourself. I would recommend you lie down for a bit to get over your sleep envy, but then you couldn't finish reading my story. Besides, the emphasis of the story is that I was trying to sleep. Sadly, I was not successful. My to do list kept interrupting me. I know, how rude!

There I am lying on the sofa with my silky sleep mask on (oh, yeah, I wear one of those—they are exclusively for serious nappers only). I was clenching my eyes shut, begging for sleep to take over, when my to do list came barging right in. It insidiously crept into my brain, and before I knew it, my thoughts of sweet, delicious sleep were replaced with all of the outstanding things that I had yet to do. Like a maniacal dictator, a voice inside my head began reciting my to do list. Meanwhile, the sleep deprived part of my brain became very irate and began shouting abusively at whatever part of my brain didn't get the memo that we were trying to sleep here!

BE QUIET!!!!!!

Well, needless to say, nobody truly won that argument. I decided to walk away before things got out of hand.

As a compromise, I attempted to prep dinner first and then try the nap thing again later, but that didn't work out so well either. My red, blood shot eyes burned from sleep deprivation. I was tempted to close my eyes a bit while I chopped the onions. Hmm, maybe that's not the best idea I have ever had. If only I had been able to take that nap first, I'd be able to think straight. But nooo...couldn't put the to do list in its place, could you!

Uh, that sentence wasn't directed at you, I was ranting to myself for a moment there. The truth is (and I say this without the slightest bit of exaggeration, no, not even a little), I haven't slept in six years. Six years! It all started when I became a motherwoman, but that's another story. I NEED naps. Naps are the only thing that get me by and prevent me from roaming around like a zombie. Well, that and coffee. Oh, if only...