Higher education.
Posted: March 5, 2012 Filed under: family, kids, lessons, memories, parenting 3 Comments »{note: I deleted the post by mistake & sadly it took away all the lovely comments. I promise you I read them! Yikes. Sorry}
It’s really never been a question of whether our kids would go to college, but rather where they’d go. (I’ll add that Andrew and I would be open-minded about non-college options or a gap year.) But in general, college has always been on the table as the next step after high school.
It seemed so far away.
So unfathomable.
So impossible.
And yet, Davis has been working on his list of colleges to consider. We’ve visited a couple already and plan to visit more. He’s taken the ACTs and will take the SATs in a week or so.
Rewind to when he had rosy cheeks and freckles. (see above!)
He sat up on his bed – high up on the top bunk – and looked at me very seriously.
“Mom, when I go to college, I want to stay here and live with you. Maybe I’ll go to Johns Hopkins.”
And though it was unbearable to consider that he’d ever leave, I told him that while living home during college was a fine option, it was likely he’d change his mind when he was 16 or 17. And that for a lot of kids, going to college away from their parents is a big part of the college experience. Part of growing up.
Still, he insisted he’d never leave me. He loved me way too much.
The schools that he’ll be applying to are varied and wonderful. None is a commuter school for us. And honestly? I think that’s great for him – the right choice. I know he’ll be great on his own.
But there’s that little piece of me that wants to cry and remind him that he promised he’d never leave.
Why?
Posted: January 12, 2012 Filed under: family, parenting, the boys 2 Comments »
photo credit: http://www.sxc.hu/profile/doctor-a
I was checking email. Voicemail. After all, it was during work hours and, though I hadn’t stopped for lunch, I was feeling guilty for taking the half hour to attend to the boys’ dental needs.
I heard the dad say, “I have too much work to do.”
And then, the girl’s whisper stopped me in my tracks.
Why don’t you just tell them, “no?”
And then, without even looking up, he answered. His response was like a punch in the stomach. “I’m responsible for everything. You just don’t understand.”
And I think he was right. She didn’t. She sat, staring ahead. Holding back tears.
I am not going to sit here (while my kids want my attention) and say that I won’t ignore them, work too hard, take on too much.
I probably will.
But this will stick with me. And I’ll keep working on being more present and more available.
Independence is the goal, right?
Posted: January 6, 2012 Filed under: family, kids, parenting 3 Comments »
Photo credit: http://www.sxc.hu/profile/shilders
As parents, Andrew and my primary goals have been to raise our boys to be independent, free-thinking, productive, and happy. That has always been our dream.
Always.
But maybe I was hasty.
I’d like to revise my wish to independent, free-thinking, productive, and happy as long as they agree with me.
Having teenagers is harder than I thought it’d be.
Happy judgment-free holidays to you.
Posted: December 23, 2011 Filed under: family, girlfriends, kids, memories, mood, parenting, work 8 Comments »I came across a post I wrote 6 years ago today. And it still resonates. I mean, really. What the heck is balance anyway? My boys were 7, 8, and 10 at the time. A lot has changed in our world.
But not that much.
Parts of Speech
[originally posted 12/23/05]
Judging others is a dangerous hobby. Without all the facts (and you never have all the facts) it is impossible to understand someone’s decisions, motives, choices on all fronts. Now that doesn’t mean that we can’t relate to others’ issues, challenges, etc. Two things I’ve learned over the years come to mind:
1) You don’t know what happens in someone else’s house.
2) Never say “I never would…” in reference to someone else’s choices. You might one day when faced with the same situation.
I’ve been stewing about something that happened the other day. In order to let it go, I’ve decided to write about it. I drove some kids (including some of my own) to an after-school class. One of the kids was unable to carry his stuff in, so I dropped them all off, parked the car, and, sans coat, trekked across the parking lot to bring the kid his stuff. I was cold. I had a sick kid at home I wanted to get back to. My father had a procedure that day and I couldn’t go sit with my mom while she waited because of my kid at home who needed me. My work was behind schedule due to the same sick kid and the construction noise at the house was really getting to me and to that same sick kid, who cried about his head hurting for hours. You get the picture – the day was not a cake walk. (I always wanted to say cake walk – I hope I used it correctly!)
Walking into the school, I ran into a friend. Not a “hang out all the time” friend, but someone I like and socialize with occasionally. After saying hello, she took a hard look at me and said:
Balance is a verb.
It felt like a punch in the stomach. She has balance so never looks harried? I am unbalanced? I am incapable of managing my life? What exactly was this wisdom she was (unsolicited, I might add) presenting to me? She had no idea what I had done for the past month, let alone for the day. I was really irritated. How superior.
After a day I asked a close friend, who I respect tremendously, what she thought. She said:
Bitch is a verb too.
Happy Erev Chanukah. Merry Christmas Eve. I’m planning on a judgment-free holiday.
50 lessons and 50 blessings.
Posted: October 5, 2011 Filed under: cooking, diet, family, friends, girlfriends, memories, mood, morals, pain, parenting, procrastination, Spouse 2.0, the boys, travel, Uncategorized, work Leave a comment »What is it about big milestones that make us want to make lists?
I was planning to write about 50 lessons I’ve learned over the years and tell you about 50 blessings in my life.
I’m sure I’ve learned more than 50 things and I can assure you I have more than 50 wonderful things and people in my life.
Instead, I’m going to go all minimalist here.
I’m grateful for all the people who have taught me anything – good or bad.
I’m grateful for the people who love me. And for the people I love. I think there’s a lot of overlap there.
I’m grateful for knowledge. And for being told I’m wrong so I can try harder.
I’m over the moon grateful for my sons. And my husband.
And for the ones who’ve stuck by me no matter what.
I’m thankful for the 9am phone calls. I’m thankful for the peace in my home.
I’m thankful for my work, which I love. And the clients who trust me.
It never occurred to me that I’d be 50 one day.
Crazy, I know.
But here I am.
And I’m grateful for where I’ve been and I can’t wait to see where I go.
What a difference 11 years makes.
Posted: August 30, 2011 Filed under: family, memories, parenting, the boys 2 Comments »I posted this on Facebook today. Someone asked about recreating the scene today.
The boys. July, 2000.
Well, we don’t have the hats. They’d be way too small anyway.
This is as close as I could get.
The boys. August, 2011.
In the 12 seconds I had to set it up and shoot it, I think I did okay.
Sniff. Sniff.
Posted: May 5, 2011 Filed under: family, kids, memories, parenting, the boys 6 Comments »
Andrew came home today with 4 DVDs. He had our videos of our kids when they were little converted.
I couldn’t peel myself away from it.
The gurgling, the crying, the chewing the toys.
I saw their first birthdays. And birthday parties year after year. I saw them with their aunts and uncles and grandparents and great-grandparents.
We were at the zoo, the park, our backyard, our kitchen.
And my favorites? In the bathtub. I always loved my little boys playing in the bathtub. They were silly and funny and cute. And in some scenes, they had a friend or a cousin. Really? They could not be any cuter.
I love the part with my BFF’s daughter singing in the bathtub and my boys cheering her on. Too. Darn. Cute.
But after I smiled and teared up a bit and laughed, I had a very sad realization.
I don’t remember it all.
The way their voices sounded. The drool. The screeching. The slobbery kisses. The falling down. The way they talked to each other. How funny they were. How squishy they were. How disgusting they were when they ate. How exciting it was for them to see the penguins at the zoo the first time. How opening presents was the greatest adventure in life. Except for the slip and slide.
I forgot how little they were.
I love, love, love who they are now.
But now, I miss who they were. Just a little.
What is perfection?
Posted: April 15, 2011 Filed under: family, home, inferiority complex, parenting, work 4 Comments »Like many women, I was raised to believe that I could have it all. My parents told me I could be anything I wanted to be – accomplish great things – and be a wife, mother, sister, friend.
And I believed them.
I watched the younger moms in my neighborhood (including my Aunt Phyl, my across the street neighbor whose children I babysat for, and others) look happy and balanced with exciting careers and families. Honestly? It didn’t look all that hard.
Fine, I was young and naive. How could I have known?
So I grew up, went to college, and started working. I loved my job in advertising and quickly rose in the ranks. And in 1994 (wow, that’s a long time ago!), I was made a partner at Bozell Worldwide. I’d made it! The job was terrific, the people were amazing, and since it was just Andrew and me, it really wasn’t an issue that I worked 60 hour weeks and read trade pubs over the weekend.
In Fall, 1994, I was pregnant. How exciting! Now, I’d have the perfect career, a loving husband, and a cute little munchkin!
I toured daycare facilities and realized that I’d be happier with a nanny coming to the house. It’d be a breeze. So I started interviewing. While I was a little shocked and dismayed by some of the applicants, I found a young woman who seemed a perfect match. She started work when Davis was seven weeks old.
One day, I came home from work to nurse (I lived so close!) and found the nanny out back smoking while Davis was in his crib crying.
You can imagine my dismay.
My next hire was a dream. Jinn was wonderful, loving, sweet. (We’re still in touch! She rocks!) But, still, I cried like a baby when I came home one day and she told me that Davis’ first tooth was coming in. Why didn’t I know? It was so unfair that she made the discovery. And it was that day that I realized that I needed something to change. If I was going to be the mother I wanted to be, I could not be working long, long hours and traveling. So I gave notice and worked for months to make a smooth transition at the firm and then started my own business. The rest, as they say, is history. I have work that makes me happy and fulfilled, but I’m a mother first and foremost. Sure, my kids are teens now and the demands are very different. But I have built a world for myself where I can be their mom and feel great about it.
I just finished reading Good Enough Is the New Perfect by Becky Beaupre Gillespie and Hollee Schwartz Temple.
Oh, how I wish I could have read this years ago! I found real comfort (and did a lot of head-nodding) reading the first hand accounts of some really remarkable women – women who struggled with the same issues, the same struggles, the same frustrations that I did. What amazes me is how isolating it is to be in the throes of trying to balance (what is balance anyway!?). It feels as if no one has ever had to deal with such stress and angst. But it’s not the case!
Reading the stories in the book, I began to evaluate my current choices in a different way. Becky and Hollee talk about moms who think they are “never enough” or “good enough” and you know what? They’re right! They have
“discovered a paradigm shift in motherhood today: more and more mothers are losing their “never enough” attitude and embracing a Good Enough mindset to be happier, more confident and more successful. Filled with inspiring firsthand accounts from working mothers and drawn from the latest research, is a true roadmap for the incredible balancing act we call motherhood.”
So sure, I love research and love that it’s a big part of this book. But the reason I’m glad I read it and the reason my life will be enhanced is because I now know that I am good enough.
Back in the 1900′s.
Posted: January 9, 2011 Filed under: parenting, the boys 3 Comments »
I remember when this photo was taken. Bridget was our babysitter and she was a photography major. She asked if we’d pose. I was pretty darn pregnant with Max, Reed had just turned one, Davis had just turned three.
It was a crazy time. I’d started my business. Andrew was traveling all the time for business – he was gone Monday through Friday most weeks. Life was wonderful and exhausting and frustrating and challenging.
And this series of photos captured exactly what I would have wanted to remember; though I had no idea at the time. Those little boys were the joy of every day.
But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t challenging. Or lonely. Or hard.
It was.
Challenging.
Lonely.
Hard.
And today, when I was perusing my Twitter stream, I saw the love and support between and among some young mothers. I felt the warmth, the reassurance, the support.
It warmed my heart.
And it got me to thinking. I was a new mother who was grateful and excited to have Moms Online on AOL. It was new and groundbreaking. But it was a bulletin board. Static. Anonymous. These days? There’s total immediacy. Deep engagement. Real friendships growing. Serious ‘I got your back’ attitude. I mean, wow. I can barely imagine having that kind of camaraderie at that stage in my life.
Not to sound totally pitiful, I did have my friends. And they were fab! Still are. But they had their own kids, their own lives. It wasn’t like I could ping a friend any time – day or night – and she’d convo with me. Well, sure, if it was an emergency. But surely I wouldn’t have called (there was no texing!) to say, I’m up for the 3am feeding, what are YOU doing?
On the other hand, I did totally appreciate the peace and the quiet and the full ‘engagement’ with my babies in the middle of the night. If it was today, would I be tweeting while nursing? I’m not sure. Maybe. And would that compromise the experience? I don’t know. I really don’t. Truthfully, I don’t know what it would be like. I don’t let Twitter or Facebook or blogging interfere with intimate moments in my life now, so maybe it wouldn’t be an issue.
But I can sure see how having a community of women in the same lifestage could be very, very reassuring. And I can imagine that sharing some of those exhausting, challenging times could make you feel a lot less crazy and a lot less alone.
I was thinking.
Posted: December 18, 2010 Filed under: parenting, procrastination, random 4 Comments »
So that’s me thinking.
Well, actually, that’s me playing with my iPhone.
I’ve often heard that it’s the traits we like least in ourselves that we’re most critical of in others. And that said, I’ve been putting off writing this post. I suppose that’s because other things just seemed to be more important. Or rather, I just couldn’t get this to the top of the pile.
I’ve been procrastinating lately.
Not the regular stuff. I’m not missing deadlines at work. The laundry is clean and sometimes folded before the creases are so permanent that I need to consider using the dreaded iron. I do have some Swash in case of emergency.
The kids’ tests and midterm reports are signed on time. The house is moderately clean. Clean enough.
But I haven’t gotten to two important things. First, I promised myself I’d take time and start painting again. And second, I want to think, plan, strategize for business. How is it that these keep getting shoved to the bottom of the pile?
I’ll ponder that tomorrow. Tonight, I’ll put my feet up and do nothing. And while that sounds like procrastination, it’s not. It’s a choice to turn off and relax with my crew.
