A Blog a Day...

Keeps the doctor away? Actually, I’ve been writing a blog a week for a couple of years now, and I must say, though I don’t have a lot of followers, my crew is loyal, and I’m having fun.

But you want to know what I like best about blogging? Nobody says to me, “No you can’t do that!” It’s all “Yes, I can!” I can write whatever I want (within reason). If I want to write about shoelaces, so be it. If I decide dogs are my topic, then I just go ahead with dogs. Goldfinches, toothaches, anything I want. I decide. No editor, no publisher, no advertising rep, nobody tells me what to blog about (though I do accept suggestions).

            Besides, you just never know who is reading a blog. It could get passed around all over the world. Maybe some day some big hotshot editor will read my stuff and say WOW. Maybe—like that book by Dr. Seuss called McElligot’s Pool—some big fish is out there just waiting for me to come along with a blog that will change the blogging world. Why not?

            So yeah, I’m not getting paid to blog here. And maybe not a lot of people read my stuff. And maybe I could use a copy editor or a proofreader or a censor now and again. But blogging is freedom. It’s liberating! It’s write-whatever-you-want day every day that you decide to blog (unless, of course, you’re blogging for a website that pays and has editors, which I also do).

            If you’re an aspiring writer (or even an old pro), why not try it? Just get up in the morning and say to yourself, “What should I blog about today?” You decide. No one says NO. No one says, “You can’t!” True, not everyone will like what you blog about. You may get some nasty comments, or people may simply ignore you. But that’s not the point. The point is you blog to blog, you blog to spread your wings, you blog to have the freedom to write whatever you please. 

            So even though it doesn’t pay well (and maybe pays nothing at all), the rewards are great. And remember…If you wait long enough, if you’re patient and cool...
Who knows what you’ll catch in McElligot's Pool!

Downsizing

When we first bought our little home in New Jersey twenty-something years ago, I was so excited that I could finally have a garden (after living in Manhattan for seven years) that I went out and bought every seed and plant in the nursery (or so it seemed). I do remember planting lettuce, broccoli, eggplant, zucchini, peppers, and, of course, tomatoes.  My next-door neighbor at the time was also into gardening, and we often got together for garden dinners, with ingredients fresh from our own backyards.

            Then came children (actually, I had a two-year-old when we moved to NJ, but keeping one kid away from the baby tomatoes is easier than thwarting three children hell bent on destruction). Yes, as the boys grew the garden shrunk a bit. Some of the veggies were picked before they were ripe (a little green sphere is surprisingly fascinating to a toddler, I discovered), and other plants were inadvertently trampled when the kids were playing softball, kickball, or riding their bikes.

 I persisted in planting but gave up on the lettuce and zucchini (which the slugs liked a little too much, anyway). The growing family required that we add a deck to the back of the house, which though modest, nevertheless gobbled up a good portion of my garden. So I downsized again--this time planting only tomatoes, basil, and parsley. At least I could still make a tasty bruschetta or pesto.     

            Now, you’d think, with my kids all grown and off to college that I would get back to my gardening this year, but au contraire, I have decided to downsize even further. Today, I purchased exactly two tomato plants instead of my customary nine. My reasoning is that since I’ve neglected all nine for the past few years, perhaps it would be wiser to just get two plants, and really focus on nurturing them. I’m still debating whether to spring for the basil, but I have time.

            This was not an easy decision, because I have been planting and growing tomatoes for twenty-six years without missing a summer. But sometimes, one just has to take stock of reality. I seem to be busier than ever with writing, yoga, family, and friends. So busy, in fact, that my husband suggested I give up the garden all together this year. But I’m not there yet.

            As one of my yoga teachers said the other day, fantasizing is nice, but sometimes you have to face reality. I don’t think he was referring to gardens, but that’s okay. The fact is, though I would like to have all those beautiful veggies growing in some dark, rich soil, unless I change my life style dramatically or hire a groundskeeper (Lady Chatterley, anyone?…Oh, wait…he was a gamekeeper!) it’s just not going to happen. The reality is, like it or not, I’ve moved on.  There is simply no pretending that I have time for the garden; in the past few years, the withered and weed-infested tomato beds have made that perfectly clear.

            So, two tomato plants it is for this growing season from which I hope I get at least one beautiful, healthy, ripe tomato. For me, summer just isn’t summer without a sandwich made from a tomato I just picked in my own yard.

            

Mommy & Me

A short post today, since it’s Mother’s Day and I’m taking a little “holiday.”

         But…the other day I had the pleasure of attending a Mother’s Day Tea at a local nursery school (no I’m not in the Guinness Book of World Records for “older” moms—I was there to promote my book, All About Motherhood!). From my position on the side of the room I had a perfect view not only of the three and four year olds who were entertaining their moms with old favorites like “I’m a Little Teapot” but I could also clearly see the mothers’ faces. I was struck by the love that was reflected and magnified in the room, and reminded once again that there’s nothing quite like mother love. And a child’s love for his or her mom is so clear and absolute. When one little boy's mother was almost late for the event, it seemed as if his tiny heart was about to break. Thankfully, she showed up at the last minute, but it made me realize once again how much mothers matter.

          As I observed a young mother watching her daughter perform, I knew that for this loving duo, nothing else existed in the world at that moment but the magnificent link between them.  I remembered looking into my own mother’s eyes that way, well into adulthood. Words weren’t necessary; we only needed to meet one another’s gaze to know what was in our hearts.

Motherhood is love, joy, challenge and hope, a gift, a blessing, a weight. It’s diapers, bottles, beer bottles (yes, I’m talking about teens), scraped knees, text messages, Band aids, heavy metal bands, your world, your universe, your past, present and future. And so much more. Truly, it is "the never-ending journey."

Motherhood is here, now, and always. Happy Mother’s Day to all! May your day be filled with love.

A Mother's Lesson

As you all know, my book, All About Motherhood: “A Mom for All Seasons” and Other Essays, makes a perfect present for the moms in your life or for yourself. But here’s one essay I didn’t include in the book, and I’d like to share it now, in time for Mother’s Day. It’s an essay on my own greatest challenge in my role as a mother: letting go.

            For me, this is the most difficult aspect of mothering, and it starts on day one. Yes, I had difficulty letting the nurses scoot my newborn off to the nursery for a bath. And I wasn’t real keen on letting others hold him for too long, either. He was my baby, after all. I’d given birth to him, and even though the umbilical cord was no longer in service, for me, it was still there (in my case, x3).

            When my kids went off to pre-school, I’d often sit at my desk and cry. This happened again at Kindergarten, high school, and college. The truth is, once I’d given birth, the only time I felt completely and totally whole was when all three of my children were together, in one room, with me watching over them. The lesson of learning to let go has been long and arduous.

            Don’t get me wrong: I love and adore being alone. Solitude is one of my very best friends.  But for me, solitude is always best when at the end of the day the kids come home.

            I’m at the point in my life now, where the “kids” are young men building lives of their own. They come and go, sometimes for a day, a summer, or even longer, but only to leave again, to fly away to places like Qatar, Japan, Mexico, or England to study or work or simply to go home to their own dorm room or apartment.  I’m happy for my children, and proud that I’m able to say good-bye without a major meltdown (usually). Nevertheless, my heart breaks a little each time they walk out the door.

            This painful lesson of mine--to learn how to love and to let go--has taught me many things. I’ve learned not to judge myself too harshly (after all, my own mother was the same way). I’ve also learned that without the magnitude and weight of this love that I feel for my children, I would not be the mother I am.

            So there, I’ve said it. As the cheery Mother’s Day cards and flowers go out, and the mommies gather with their kids to celebrate their special day, I am also reminded of the commitment, heartache, and responsibility that comes with this kind of love. As mothers, our deepest wish and our most fervent prayer is for what’s best for our children. And that’s the very reason why we must learn the lesson of letting go.

Mother's Day is Coming!

Yes, Mother’s Day is coming, which leads me to remind you all that my book All About Motherhood is the perfect gift for moms at all ages and stages. In keeping with this Mother’s Day time of year, I was thinking, the other day, of a woman I know who once told her prospective second husband at the very moment that he asked her to marry him, that he’d have to keep one thing in mind if he wanted the relationship to work. “I’m a mother,” she said, “and my daughter will always come first.” Hah!

            Now, usually (but certainly not always) men don’t find this out until much later, until after the wedding has taken place, the years have passed, the nine months of pregnancy have been enjoyed (or endured). Only then, when junior pops forth from the womb, does dad see the glowing, glazed look in his wife’s eyes, and somewhere, deep in his soul, realize that in his wife’s heart he may never really be numero uno again.

            Now, certainly this isn’t true of all women, and some men may be just as likely to put their kids ahead of their wives (though I don’t know these guys). And maybe this is wrong (I’m not judging) or maybe it’s right. That’s not the point.

            The point is, however, that women who put their children before everything else (and sometimes, sadly, even before themselves which can lead to big problems) are everywhere. And whether it’s right or not, survival of the next generation rather depends on mothers (and fathers, too) making their kids a top priority. What would happen, after all, if mom forgot to nurse her newborn, or neglected to change his diaper? It wouldn’t be pretty…We may be tempted to critize the woman who tells her husband that baby (or in this case, her adolescent daughter) comes first, but it kind of makes sense in the big picture.

             A mother’s love is stronger than wind, deeper than oceans, wider than the world. It travels everywhere…into the sock drawer, into bank accounts, over teacher’s desks, into doctor’s offices, into preschool and college admissions offices, up trees, under couches, in laundry bins, and everywhere else.  Mother love makes us fearless when we were once filled with fear (and it also makes us fearful where we once were fearless). Everything changes, and I mean everything.

            Good or bad doesn’t matter, it just is. In fact, I might go so far as to argue that a mother’s love is the strongest force in the Universe. Think of it this way: Where would we collectively be without it?

Ode to Toddlers

Yes, it's that time of year...Mother's Day is just round the bend...a perfect time to get a copy of my book, All About Motherhood: "A Mom for All Seasons" & Other Essays, the perfect gift book for the mom(s) in your life (or if you're a mother, for yourself!). You can order the new, expanded edition at your favorite online bookseller, in paperback or for your Nook or Kindle. Please buy it soon... Mother's Day is on the way!  Below is an excerpt...Enjoy!

Don’t you just love toddlers?  Yes, I’m talking about the “terrible two’s.” I think this age group has gotten a bad rap (especially in retrospect, now that my toddlers are grown).

            When I had toddlers, everyone would look at me with sympathy and concern.  “All that chasing around!” my mother would cluck.  “You’d better sit down now, because once he’s a toddler, you’ll never sit again.”  (There was some truth to that!) I also suspected that my gaze would never again meet the gaze of another adult; it was constantly traveling—up on counters, into drawers, under cabinets…wherever the toddler went, my eyes, arms, and legs would follow.

            No one denies that toddlers are hard work, but they’re also undeniably cute—and they seem to carry a special message for harried parents.  Just this week, I was reminded of how much toddlers have to tell us—even though, for the most part, they’re not especially articulate.  After all, you wouldn’t normally think of people who bellow things like “Me want cookie!” or  “No, no, noooooooo!”  as savvy advisors. 

            But just watch a toddler for a moment or two, and you’ll be amazed by how deftly they communicate deep and resonant messages. For instance, in just one short walk around town last week, I noticed toddlers everywhere, desperately trying to teach their parents and caregivers.  On one corner was the little girl who had meandered over to a bench, while her mom—one arm laden with packages--yelled “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” while briskly snapping the fingers on her free hand.  This child had about as much interest in moving as a signpost; as she sat on the bench, happily watching the cars go by, she seemed to be saying, “Slow down, Mommy. What’s the rush?”
        

           On the next block I found another toddler stumbling round and round a tree while his parents stood nearby, helplessly watching.  It was clear that this child’s well-dressed parents had places to go and people to meet, but they were stymied by their son’s ability to trace, retrace, trace, retrace his steps ad infinitum, all the while embracing the knobby girth of the tree trunk.  Like the little girl up the block, this toddler seemed to be trying to get a point across--something along the lines of, “What’s your hurry, when we all end up back in the place we started anyway?”

            A few steps later, I came across another toddler perched backwards in her stroller while her grandmother fussed nearby.  No matter how hard this poor woman tried to get this toddler to sit down, the child simply would not stay. Grandma would tuck her into the stroller face forward, but within seconds she had squirmed back up and was standing backwards again.  Obviously, her grandma couldn’t go anywhere with the child in this precarious position.  She was forced instead to stand still and marvel at her little Houdini.

            But just in case you’re thinking that all toddlers want is for parents to hold still, the next two-year-old I came upon was running as fast as a bullet, while her plump nanny trailed breathlessly behind her.  This kid had obviously had enough of life in the slow lane; her message was that she had so much to see and do that she didn’t have time for rest and relaxation. No sitting in the sandbox for her!

            By the time I got home from my walk, I was completely exhausted, not from the three miles I’d covered, but from observing all the two-year-olds I’d encountered along the way.  And I thought to myself, why are parents so frustrated by toddlers?  Is it because they demand so much of us--trying our patience, playing us like puppets as we chase them here and there? Or is it because they force us to take a good look at ourselves?

            Toddlers certainly inspire us to look at life from a different perspective--whether upside down, on all fours, or on the run. Sure, they throw tantrums and sometimes they bite or hit.  But maybe that’s just what it takes for such a little person to get his point across to the big folks who obviously don’t have all the answers, even though we’re in charge!