Preparing for A Trip of A Lifetime: Smile Network Mission to Peru Begins Tomorrow

As I get ready to leave the country tomorrow for a trip of a lifetime, I struggle to sort through all of the thoughts and emotions that race through my mind and heart— gratitude, excitement, hope and, of course, some anxiety. Tomorrow will mark the beginning of two journeys for me. The first is the opportunity to travel to Peru with Kim Valentini , founder of Smile Network International, two other women friends, and a team of doctors from the Mayo Clinic in Rochester to assist 50 children with their cleft lip surgeries. These surgeries are completely funded by Smile Network. The patients and their families pay nothing, as they have nothing to pay. The surgeries will give these children a fighting chance—a chance to live “normal” lives instead of living as social outcasts. I will have the chance to meet the families of these children as we input all of their information into our computer system, and subsequently hold the babies and toddlers, change them into their surgical gowns, take them to the docs in the operating room, observe the surgeries, and return them to the arms of their loving families. I feel honored to be able to take part in Tikun Olam (Hebrew for "repairing the world"); to be able to give of myself and to know that I will be a part of something that will change lives. As much I know this work will enrich the lives of the 50 children and their families, I am certain that these experiences will significantly impact my life as well.

Ever since my daughter befriended Kim’s daughter at school ten years ago, and I heard about Kim’s work, I knew that I wanted to be a part of a Smile Network mission, but had a tough time finding the “right” time to go. This past spring, my husband and I attended a Smile Network benefit and sat at a table with Kim and a few other parents of our daughters’ friends. Kim took the stage and began auctioning off three mission trips. My husband’s arm immediately shot up. I looked at him with surprise and excitement as he continued to raise his hand until the trip was ours and he said to me, “You’ve dreamed of doing this trip for a long time. It’s time for you to go.” Within minutes, my two friends at our table both bid on mission trips as well, and we decided to venture off together, with Kim at the helm.

As soon as we began to talk about trip logistics, my nerves took over and I convinced myself that I needed do the “express” mission trip so I wouldn’t be away from my family for too long. My mom advised otherwise, “You can’t go to Peru and not see Machu Picchu,” she told me, as I explained that I was planning to skip the “sightseeing” part of this trip and just attend the mission portion. “You don’t know when or if you will ever go back there, and this is really something to see,” she said. “I just don’t think I can be away from the kids for almost two weeks,” I told her. “Yes, you can,” she stated clearly and convincingly, and promised she would help with the kids.

So began the second part of my journey—preparing to leave my family for 10 days.

To sum up this part of my journey, I will share a few prophetic messages from two of my children. This past Friday night, my son seemed upset about something but wouldn’t or couldn’t explain why he was acting crabby. “Honey, are you anxious about me leaving for Peru,” I asked him, thinking that my leaving must really be affecting him, and that I should definitely continue to bombard myself with guilt. With conviction and certainty in his voice, he shouted (which he doesn't do very often), “Mom, YOU are the only one feeling anxious about you leaving and you are making the rest of us CRAZY!”

The next day, I was texting with Sophie and telling her that I was feeling a little nervous about flying and being away from the kids. Her response was, “Mom, don’t be a baby.” She soon followed up with “You can do this. You are a strong, independent woman who can be away from her kids for 10 days.”

Okay, then. Out of the mouths of babes.

So, until the weekend after next,  other than an “I love you and miss you” via skype or face time, I will not be involved in my kids' day-to-day lives. But as my son so articulately reminded me, this is way harder for me than it is for them. It is me who is afraid to leave.

I am afraid:

• to let go of control.
• that something bad will happen to me and I will have abandoned my children.
• that things won’t be done the way I do them and the kids will be upset.
• that things will slip through the cracks.
• that they will need me and I won’t be there for them.

As I finalize the countless details of the kids’ schedules, which are different each day for each kid, and I put the last articles of clothing in my suitcase, I realize that I am already feeling an internal shift. Heading to Peru tomorrow has made me realize that in order for me to be able to practice Tikum Olam, I have to release all of the above-mentioned fears and turn to TRUST—I need to trust that my kids will be well cared for and that they will be okay without me. I also need to trust that I will be okay, and that I will do the work I set out to do, find appreciation and joy throughout the journey, and then return home to my family.

I don’t know if this is the “right” time for me to go, or if there is ever a perfect time (probably not). But for me, the time is now. I pray that all will go smoothly, on the home front and in Peru. I am excited to take in the wonders of Machu Picchu and to comfort the children and their families before and after their surgeries. And I am extremely grateful for my community of supportive friends and family who will step in over the next few weeks to help take care of my children, and to my husband for giving me the push I needed to turn this dream into a reality. (And hey, Minnesota friends, if you happen to see a Burton kid wandering around looking lost, just point them toward my house, please.)

Adios, amigos!  Hasta Lavista!

Friday Faves! How Did Becoming a Mother Change You?

 

Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." ~Elizabeth Stone, author

My research for Book #1 included asking moms the following question: How did becoming a parent change you? The majority of moms I surveyed said that having children changed them in extremely positive ways. The most common response was that they had become less selfish.  Additionally, many mothers reported that they had become more patient, mature, dependable, caring, and less impulsive. They also said they became more understanding and forgiving and less judging. Some mothers also revealed that this process of transitioning from self to selfless was challenging, and that they changed in many ways that they did not anticipate. Here is one quote that I think is reflective of how many moms feel today (at least sometimes):

“My life was no longer my own. I was, and still am, constantly preoccupied. I became a bit of a worrier. And the future suddenly took on tremendous importance. Everything got heavier. I went from being a relatively easy-going, almost passive person, to practically a warrior. I was now IN the fight. The world became a dangerous place. Our current time and culture seems determined to undermine childhood and children. I am compelled to care, and care a great deal. If I didn't have children, I don't think half the stuff going on would upset me as much because I know who I am and how I want to live, and I would be able to do that. But with kids, you have to teach them values, and when your values are not reflected in your culture, you just have to work much harder.” (Mother of two children, ages 9 and 7, married 15 years)

How did becoming a mother change you?

How To Be the Perfect Mother

I gotcha with the title didn’t I? Well, of course it is a bit misleading because we all know that there is no such thing as a perfect mother. However, I feel that in society today, where mothers are so brutally hard on themselves, moms need to realize a crucial component to feeling good about themselves as mothers.  The focus needs to be taken off of striving to be a perfect mom. She does not exist. But mothers need to shift their focus to this idea: You are intrinsically the perfect person to mother your child/ren.  Trust yourself and truly believe that you are the EXACT person your child needs to call “Mom.”

I am not big fan of the word perfect. In fact, it kind of scares me. Because I struggle with perfectionism, I usually shy away from using the word.  But over the years, I  found myself watching “perfect” moms around me. Moms who dressed their kids perfectly (how dare any kid have matching socks every day!), kept their houses in perfect order, and kept themselves impeccably dressed, and in perfect shape, with their nails done, skin glowing and hair shining—AND their kids were perfect too!

I now realize that I was doing that hazardous thing that so many of us women do because we are gluttons for punishment as we continue to compare our imperfect selves with the “perfect” mothers around us. “You are measuring your insides to someone else’s outsides,” a friend of mine said to me when I put myself down in relation to another mom. Even when a mom looks “perfect” on the outside, unless we really get to know her, we have no idea what her real, imperfect self looks or feels like. On the flip side,  some moms are quick to elevate themselves and pass harsh judgments on other moms. “Sally’s son is  really messed up.  Sally must be doing a terrible job mothering him. What’s wrong with her?”

There may be nothing wrong with Sally, or Sally may be battling depression or trying to get out of a toxic relationship with her spouse. Where is the compassion? Remind yourself that Sally is the perfect mother for her child. (And if you are concerned about Sally's well-being, then reach out to her.) In an effort to find our sweet spot as a mother and as a supporter of other mothers, it is essential to turn judgment into compassion, toward yourself and toward the mothers in your life.

On the days when you feel like you have absolutely no idea what you are doing with your child, cannot seem to figure out a way to MAKE HER LISTEN, feel upset and frustrated with yourself and your child, and then (of course!) you look around and convince yourself that every other mom knows exactly what she is doing with her child/ren, remind yourself:

You are indeed the right person for the job because...

There is no other person in the world who:

• loves your child the way you do.
• understands your child the way you do.
• feels your child’s pain like you do.
• would die for your child like you would.
• becomes filled with nearly-lethal rage the way you do when someone wrongs your child.
• would allow her buttons to be repeatedly pushed by your child the way you do.
• loves and accepts your child without conditions like you do.

You truly are the perfect mother for your child.

3 Tips to Set Your Child Up for Financial Success–Guest Post by Jenny L. Maxey and Book Give-Away

2014 is a year for change. Last week, I posted my first book review and this week I am hosting my first guest blogger and a give-away of her book!  Jenny Maxey, attorney and author, is here to offer suggestions to parents for how to teach our kids to be financially responsible and successful. It is never too young to start!

All you need to do to enter the e-book give-away drawing for Barrister on a Budget—Investing in Law School Without Breaking the Bank is to leave a comment below. Your comment doesn't need to be wordy or even grammatically correct to be counted. We would love to hear your thoughts about Jenny's advice,  or if you have another helpful strategy that you've used to teach your children  about managing money, please clue us in. We will do the drawing on Jan. 21st,  one week from today, and there will be one lucky winner!

3 Tips to Set Your Child Up for Financial Success

At one time, fresh college graduates would walk through that hypothetical doorway to the real world and step onto an inclining sidewalk.  Sure, there was a climb, but with hard work and determination they could keep walking up, breathing the fresh air, feel the sun shining on their face.  Today, students walk through that doorway and step straight into a sink hole.  A record 57% of pre-college students are relying on financial aid and grants to finance their college education.  Sadly, the students graduating with these hefty loans are finding it difficult to find a salary that can sustain payments in addition to cost-of-living.

So, how can your child avoid the student debt sink hole?  How can they learn how to manage their finances?  How can you set them up for a successful financial future?  Here are just a few tips to get your child on track to financial success.

1. Don’t be afraid to start teaching money principles at an early age.

Whether your child is a tot or a teen, it’s never too early to discuss the principles of money.  Really.  You don’t need to show them every financial document you own (and you shouldn’t).  Start by taking them to the grocery store.  Use a list and cash so you can teach the importance of shopping with a purpose and the value of money.  Provide a modest allowance – something that will teach them that work/time is how you earn money. The allowance will also help them learn how to save and budget.  For savings, teach them to set goals and determine how much money it will take to achieve that goal.  For budgeting, start with three easy categories – spend, save, and give.  Adjust the complexity of these lessons by your child’s age.  For instance, if your child is a teen, have them acquire a job and pay part of their cell phone bill.  If they can’t pay their bill, charge them a late fee or interest or just turn their phone off!

1. Students do not need to rely on financial aid to pay for college.

Students have options and can avoid student loans or, at the very least, decrease their reliance upon them.  Begin with research.  Teach them to shop around for the best rates on SAT/ACT prep courses.  Have them hunt and apply for scholarships.  Have them research their career of interest.  Do they have to go to college to achieve what they want to do?  Are there affordable alternatives to reach the same goal?  Next, have them minimalize college costs.  Graduate early by taking AP Courses in high school, summer courses, and full credit loads (as long as they can maintain a high GPA). Negotiate tuition prices – some expenses can be opted-out.  Consider working during school.  Some jobs will reimburse or prepay for college classes.  Work full-time to pay for part-time classes – this could give your child experience, which many new graduates lack.  Or, look into military, work study, dormitory resident advisor, and graduate assistant opportunities.  Finally, if loans are necessary, shop around for the best interest rates and have them pay interest during school to avoid it from compounding.

1. Lead by example.

Children learn far more from what you do than what you say.  Do you whip your credit card out to make an impulse purchase?  Do you stash bills away in drawers, hoping they will disappear?  Your child is going to pick up on these behaviors.  We all make mistakes when it comes to money.  Money management is hard and the pressure to spend and keep up with the Jones’ is everywhere.  Take the steps to budget and manage your own finances.  Save for retirement!  Your child has alternatives to pay for college, while retirement is inevitable.  Not saving for your retirement is going to hurt your child’s financial success because you will have to rely on them when they’re likely trying to simultaneously raise a family themselves.  Prepare for you and your child’s financial success so that you don’t have a forty-year-old on your couch and you can sip a Piña Colada on the beach!

Jenny L. Maxey is the author of Barrister on a Budget:  Investing in Law School...without Breaking the Bank.  Jenny earned a Master's degree in Public Administration and a J.D., and is licensed to practice law in Ohio.  Although her book is geared toward pre-law and law students, most of the information can be easily applied to any level of higher education.  Barrister on a Budget is available on Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble Nook.

Amazon Link: http://www.amazon.com/Barrister-Budget-Investing-School-without-ebook/dp/B00EIADR0I/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1376940987&sr=8-1&keywords=barrister+on+a+budget

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/barrister-on-a-budget-jenny-maxey/1116472833?ean=2940148435730&isbn=2940148435730

Friday Faves! A Funny Message about Selfishness from Shel Silverstein

This Friday Faves is a bit off topic but I couldn’t pass it up. My daughter’s third grade teacher has asked her students to  record the number of minutes they read per day and to read books of varying genres (biographies, poetry, fairy tails, myths, etc.) My daughter has developed a real fondness for poetry. Last night we were reading from Shel Silverstein’s book of poetry “A Light in the Attic" and we came across a poem that caused both of us to burst out laughing, and we laughed harder each time we read the poem out loud to each other.

My husband and I talk to our kids a lot about how to be a giving and generous person and what it means to be selfish. Shel Silverstein puts a hysterical spin on a child’s perspective of selfishness:

 "Prayer of the Selfish Child"

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep,

And if I die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my toys to break.

So none of the other kids can use them...

Amen

Feel free to let me know if you think this poem is as funny as my daughter and I think it is.

College Winter Break—Confirmation of Why Your Adult Child No Longer Lives at Home

This is going to sound very unlike me since it was only four months ago that I wept for weeks (ok, more like a month) after saying goodbye to my college freshman. However, I need to be honest here. Yes, I am crazy about my daughter, but now after a five-week winter break (during which we did get to escape from the tundra for a week), I understand with great clarity that when a child reaches 18 or 19 years old, it is time for them to fly the coop. And when they come home for an extended period of time, it can be tricky.

“January can be the longest month with college kids at home,” Lisa Endlich Hefferman and Mary Dell Harrington of Grown and Flown explained to me as I reached out to them in an attempt to normalize my feelings about this drawn out and somewhat confusing transitional period. “You'll gradually establish a new mother-daughter relationship but it can be challenging, as you must already know,” they revealed.

As much as I loved having my daughter home, there was an inevitable shift that occurred—that has been occurring since she left—a shift for her, for me and for the rest of our family. The five of us have adjusted to the lowered barometric pressure in our house.

Exhale.

Thankfully, my daughter also has adjusted easily and happily to the non-stop hustle and bustle of dorm and college life, where she is in charge of what she does, whom she is with and the choices she makes.  There is no “all-knowing parent” watching over her shoulder, monitoring and commenting on her movements, and again, thankfully, she is managing her academic and social life really well.

However, when she comes home, she (like most of the college-age kids whose mothers I speak with) expects to be able to exercise these same freedoms.

There is a slight problem with this.

It doesn’t work.

There have to be limits and rules and curfews even though “you don’t know what time I get back to my dorm room when I am at school…you don’t know where I am and who I am with every minute of the day or night...I manage myself just fine! Why can’t you just TRUST ME?!”

The issue is not about trust. I do trust my daughter. But in order for us parents to maintain our sanity and a feeling of order in our homes, we need our children (including our adult children who now spend the majority of their time away at college) to respect our house rules, even if they don’t like them.

This is about our children respecting their parents, and not allowing our college kids to hold us hostage and worry us sick as they assert their incessant desire for autonomy.

I am grateful that my daughter is enjoying the freedom she has as a college student and that she is figuring out how to be a responsible, self-sufficient adult. That’s what we all hope for. But when your adult child comes home with this newly developed sense of independence, there is an interesting dynamic that comes into play between your adult child and you—one that I wasn’t completely prepared for (although many of my friends with older kids tried to warn me).

As stressful and uncomfortable as this transition can be,  Mary Dell and Lisa are right, there is joy in the “new normal.”

"I am so happy to be back here, mom,”  my daughter told me today, her first day back at school. And her statement wasn’t a “I am better off without you” message to me. It was an honest declaration of where she is at in her life. She is happy as a college student—living away from home, forging her own path. And I am truly happy for her, and happy for our newly developing relationship.

Book Review and Reflection on "Table in the Darkness: A Healing Journey Through an Eating Disorder"

I was late (per usual) for my writer friend's book launch. I had debated about whether or not to brave the sub-zero Minnesota temperatures that night but something inside me told me that I really needed to be there. I walked into the Melrose Center and took in the hospital smell. Christmas decorations adorned the walls and the greeters were cheery but I noticed a sinking feeling in my stomach. A woman directed me to the room where Lee Wolfe Blum was reading  from her memoir and I gingerly opened the door, hoping it wouldn’t squeak and that no attention would be drawn to me and my lateness. I sat down in the back row and took in the scene. Lee was reading a powerful excerpt from her book (which I read in two days and put it down only when I had to) to a room full of people. I turned and within two seconds I recognized her husband Chris from Lee’s Facebook page. To me, he was somewhat of a hero in her book and I wondered what was going through his head as he sat and watched his healthy, confident, beautiful wife  and mother of their three children recount her nearly fatal struggle with an eating disorder.

Then I noticed the two rows of young girls/women sitting in the front rows listening or not listening to Lee share some excerpts from her book. My attention veered slightly from Lee’s words to these girls, whose scrawny wrists held their hospital wrist bands, and I knew at that moment why I didn’t feel so cheery. As happy as I was for Lee and her success with her book, walking into Lee’s place of employment, a hospital/treatment center for children and teens struggling with eating disorders where Lee is a Health Educator, triggered some very uncomfortable memories in me.

I found myself studying the patients in the room. The faraway look in their eyes was all too familiar. I knew first-hand that this detached, empty, fearful look was the result of a combination of starvation, and the need and desire to disconnect from reality and from the self—the desperate attempt to escape inner pain. Lee’s book, A Table in the Darkness, explores Lee’s pain and her path of self-destruction, and ultimately her healing journey to recovery. She does this with such articulation and honesty that I felt like I was right there with her. Lee’s book also allowed me to take a closer look at my story and my memories without feeling shame. Lee told her truth—she exposed her soul and her imperfections. She revealed the gritty details of a person who fought a heart-wrenching, yet inspiring battle with depression and anorexia; wherein food became her vice to mask her pain and to “control” and her demons.

My 17-year-old self was very familiar with this method of demon fighting.  Like Lee and the patients sitting a few rows in front of me, I used food to try to numb, control and expunge the self-loathing and perfectionism that plagued my psyche. Thirty years have passed since my three-year battle with the disease began, and although it seems like a life time ago (and I find myself wanting to go back and talk to and comfort that 17-year-old girl), I remember so vividly what it felt like to be one of those patients, sitting in a hospital, trying desperately to hold on to my control over food and my emotions. I thought this control was the key to my survival, and yet, in actuality, the desire to control was pulling life out of me, and pulling me away from the people I loved and who loved me.

My heart ached for the patients in front of me as the memories of my long, difficult road to recovery flooded back to me, but  I also felt hope for them and wanted to share with them  how much I learned and grew in the process. I wanted to hug them all and tell them to choose life, to do what it takes to recover—to allow themselves to let go, open up, be vulnerable and imperfect, to trust the people around them; to believe that they can and will be helped and healed, and that they are loved and are worthy of happiness and self-love.

But I didn’t have to. Lee, with her strength, conviction, powerful connection with G-d and her faith, and her willingness to document and share her story of sickness and recovery, did that and is doing that for all of us. Her book allows readers to fully immerse themselves in Lee’s world of darkness, and to root for her as she finds her light. Lee bravely marches the reader through the agony of living (or barely living) with depression and anorexia, and the havoc it creates for her, her family, her friends and for all of those who care for her. She does not shy away from exposing herself in a way that most people, myself included, would have a very difficult time doing. She then pulls the reader into her courageous and inspiring recovery process. As a Jewish person reading this book, in which Lee's strong connection to her Christian faith is woven into the fabric of her life story, I was moved by how pivotal her belief in G-d was to her recovery and how her faith continues to guide her and her family. Her journey inspired me to look more deeply into my own faith and connection with G-d.

After Lee signed my book (“You’re next” as I recently completed a manuscript for a book on self-care for mothers) and I hugged her tightly and told her how much I appreciated her book and how proud of her I was, I walked out of the hospital and back out into the cold. Tears began to fall and by the time I got to my car, I felt myself release all the uneasiness that began the moment I walked into the hospital.

I, like Lee, am a survivor. I survived the terror of anorexia—and trust me when I tell you, it truly is a terrifying disease—terrifying for the diseased person and terrifying for those who care about and love her or him. Like Lee, the battle with the disease and the victory over it is something that will always be with me, but it does not define who I am.

I sat in my car and prayed for those girls who sat in the front rows and who would not go home to their families but would spend the night (and probably many nights) in a hospital bed feeling lonely and afraid. I prayed that they would find their light, and would let go, stop fighting and allow themselves to heal.

Then I went home, hugged my  husband and kids,  and found an even deeper feeling of acceptance of and compassion for my 17-year-old self, and my 47-year-old self.

Lee’s book is a truly a gift for anyone who has suffered or is suffering from an eating disorder, or any kind of addiction, or for someone who loves and cares for someone who has battled or is battling an eating disorder or addiction. It is a valuable tool that can provide healing and hope for every reader.

Friday Faves! Remember When...

This week’s Friday Faves does borrow from my one of my favorite authors, Anna Quindlen AGAIN, but also includes some of my own commentary from Book #1.

All mothers have or will have their “remember when” stories. Anna Quindlen writes:

"Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the Remember-When-Mom-Did-Hall-of-Fame. The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, "What did you get wrong?" (She insisted I included that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I included that.)”

I, too, have an infinite number of remember when stories, and create more and more every day. I remember my oldest son’s first day of a new preschool and I was in the hospital, in labor with my third child. I remember pleading with my husband, “Please go! You have to be there to take him on his first day, not the babysitter!” He left, and returned an hour later to find me in tears, with just enough time to throw on some scrubs and hold my hand as I was being wheeled into the OR for an emergency C-section because my unborn son was fighting to breathe as the umbilical cord was acting as a noose around his neck.

I remember the tantrums and the melt-downs (both theirs and mine), the potty training, the power struggles, and the feeling of being completely exhausted, physically, emotionally and mentally…and then just as I was ready to turn in my motherhood badge,  one of them would do something really, really cute or funny, and I would remember why I love being a mother (most of the time).

I remember being so excited to take my oldest daughter on a surprise trip to NYC for her 10^th birthday, and it wasn’t until I printed out the boarding passes the night before that I realized that my youngest son would celebrate his Golden Birthday (4 years old on the 4th) with his grandparents while his brother, sister, mom and dad were celebrating his older sister’s birthday in New York (their birthdays are a day apart).

Or when my son told me that he really did not want to have a family picture taken as a Hanukah gift for my parents and when I told him to go put on his “picture outfit” he came out of his room holding a black sharpie that he had used to color all over his arms, neck and face. (In retrospect, I should have gone ahead and had our pictures taken.)

Or how I got a call from the principal of my son’s school and she told me that the bus driver had reported to her that my 10-year-old son had used some bad language on the bus. She told me that when she called him into his office and asked him what he said that upset the bus driver, he paused, looked at her and said, “I said fuc*.” I don’t know what embarrassed me more, the fact that my son dropped the f-bomb, or that the straight-laced, school principal actually said the f-word. She proceeded to tell me that she appreciated his honesty, and that he wasn’t in trouble because he told her the truth and promised he wouldn’t use bad language again.

I remember when we thought we lost our 6-year-old daughter in a busy mall in Israel, only to find out, after enlisting Israeli security and experiencing several full-blown panic attacks by parents and grandparents alike, that her big brother, without mentioning it to anyone, had taken her to the Nike store that he just had to see at the far end of the mall.

I remember when my fourth child was born and being so terrified that I was not capable of caring for four children at such different ages and stages.

I  still don’t know that I am.

Please feel free to share your "remember when" stories below! I love to hear from you, and it makes me feel less self conscious about sharing my many parenting blunders!

Friday Faves! Lessons From One of My Favorite Writers

I am obsessed with Anna Quindlen. I love how she thinks and I love how she writes. I have many favorite quotes from her but this Friday I would like to share this particular one that tops my list and one that I try to keep in the forefront of my mind: Anna Quindlen reveals her wisdom of hindsight in her essay “On Being a Mom:”

“…the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less. Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be. The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.”

The Struggle to Protect Sacred Family Time

I am not complaining. At this very moment I am heading off to a family beach vacation with my husband, four children, my parents, sister, brother-in-law and two nieces. I could not be more excited or grateful. I understand that all of us being together is truly a blessing and there is no certainty that this will be able to be repeated. Last year, our “family” vacation to visit my parents in Florida over winter break did not include my oldest son, J, who stayed home to attend mandatory basketball practices. Last spring, J left a family trip early to get back home for baseball practice.

A message appeared in my email inbox today that read: “Varsity basketball game, 7 p.m., Thursday, Dec. 26^th.”  If my son had not taken this year off of basketball to train for baseball year round, he would not be sitting next to me on the plane, excited to be heading off to spend invaluable time with family (which includes his older sister, on break from college).

Next year, he may rejoin the basketball team. My older daughter wants to study abroad either next year or the following year...

I know. These are very much first world problems. Family vacations are a luxury. Kids have to make sacrifices and show dedication to their sports. However, I do see many parents having to make tough and stressful decisions because of their kids’ sports-related commitments, and it makes me wonder—when you really look at the development of a child, what is more important—time spent with family or more time spent at the free throw line?

These types of issues have caused our family to make some uncomfortable shifts. When our kids were younger, our family was on a roll. We had Shabbat dinner every Friday night, during which the six of us (or sometimes more…friends were/are always welcome) would sit down, slow down and connect as a family. As our older son hit high school, many of his basketball and baseball games were held on…Friday nights. I know several religious families who simply would not allow their children to play on Friday nights, but that is not the decision we made for our son and our family. We let him play. Quite often, there would be an empty spot at our Shabbat table, or sometimes our Friday night dinners would consist of hot dogs (kosher, at least) and a bag of chips, and our family sitting on rock hard bleachers, watching our boy play.

As kids get older, and life gets insanely busy with various commitments, it becomes harder and harder to grab family time, whether it is for a Friday night Shabbat dinner, brunch after church on Sunday or family vacations. I know of families who have spent a portion of Christmas together, but Christmas evening or first thing the next morning, Dad takes Jimmy to a hockey tournament in Rochester and Mom takes Susie to Duluth to celebrate Christmas (round two) with extended family. The family divided.

Even when parents are strong enough to draw the line and say, “We are all going to visit grandma for four days over Christmas break,” kids at very young ages will beg their parents to stay home as they are afraid of the wrath of their Pee Wee hockey coach, “If you miss practice, you will sit on the bench for three games.”  How cool would it be if the kid could say to the coach, “But I am going to spend time with my FAMILY over the holiday—to see my GRANDPARENTS who I only see once a year. How you can bench me for that?”  Maybe EVERYONE should take some time off to spend time with family, and then no one will be punished or rewarded for missing or not missing practice because there won’t be any practice or games for at least the few days that surround the holiday. How about society gives kids (and parents) the message that no matter what religion, if any, you practice—uninterrupted family time is sacred time? If parents are going to take time off from work (I would also advocate for employers allowing a few extra days off for employees around the holiday time—Europe does a much better job of this), it is important that the whole family is able spend time together and connect with each other.

My family does not celebrate Christmas, however, I view Christmas break/winter break as sacred family time. My husband takes time off from work and we try to do something special as a family for at least a few days. I know it is not always easy for families to do this because of work obligations, financial constraints and  kids’ sports commitments (and  divorced parents have an even tougher job of carving out family time). My concern, however,  is not so much about whether or not families can go on an actual “vacation” over winter break. A vacation could be just spending uninterrupted time at home together as a family. But I feel that families have to fight so hard to find time to be together because of all of the outside obligations that parents and kids face. It concerns me that family time is becoming less and less valued in society today.

I know many moms who struggle with this issue. When I interviewed moms for book #1, I asked a veteran mother of three children, ages 21, 18 and 16 to reveal the most important lesson she has learned in her years of mothering, and what she would like to pass on to other moms. She explained,

“Looking back, I can’t believe how much I worried about 8^th grade basketball. Go on family vacations and do not worry about your 4^th grader’s traveling soccer coach. You do have to teach your kid discipline, but to miss out on family time because the coach says he is going to sit your kid, I can now say, ‘Let him sit your kid and don’t miss out on family time.’ If your kid is good enough, she/he will play. Maybe not for that coach, but eventually. You have to decide what you can live with and not worry about what other people are doing or thinking.”

This mom’s oldest son went on to play college football at a highly reputable school. I am not so sure if she actually took her own advice with him, however, I do appreciate her hindsight.

For right now, I am going to appreciate the week I have with my family. All of us together—my daughter on break from college, my son able to leave Minnesota because he is not tied to a sport. My hope is that you are able to grab as much family time as you can, and enjoy each other during this holiday season.

Wishing you and your family a wonderful holiday season and a peaceful, happy, healthy and prosperous 2014.

A Life Remembered And A Dream Fulfilled

This has been an incredibly emotional and monumental week. Being a writer, there is one thing I am driven to do when my head and heart feel like they are going to simultaneously explode. For better or for worse (and I really hope it is for the better), I write. So, I broke down some of the extreme feelings that I have had over this past week into two categories and tried to make some sense out of them. I also tried to find the lessons in what I've experienced and would like to share some of my epiphanies/“ah-hah" moments with you:

1) 47.

This week, I got older. At least the date on the calendar told me I did. This milestone represented more than just adding another wrinkle to my forehead. It represented an appreciation for LIFE and its many blessings, in a way that has been more intense and significant than I've ever felt before.

My dad’s sister’s name was Margie. She was like a mother and a big sister to me. Margie lived for 47 years. That’s it. She had two boys, ages 10 and 12, and a loving husband, when that SHITHEAD cancer took her away from them, from all of us. I now know and have felt exactly how long  or short 47 years is. I know that it feels like 47 years is not enough time; that there is much more that I want to do, more love that I have to give and more that I want to see and experience. I know Margie felt the same way because she told me. I have prayed for 47 years. I prayed that the SHITHEAD cancer would STAY OUT of my body; of my breasts and ovaries, where it viciously , relentlessly attacked my beloved aunt, despite her efforts to fight it off; and I have prayed that I would be able to live to see my children’s Bar and Bat Mitzvahs. My aunt didn’t get to do that. She died a week before her oldest son’s Bar Mitzvah. My sweet, kind, funny, witty, loving aunt, who I loved with all my heart and I miss more and more as I get older, and with a heated intensity this year, was given 47 years.

On my 47^th birthday, 19 years after the last time I held Margie’s hand so tightly, not ever, ever wanting to let her go…I get to live. I live for me and I live for Margie.  She is forever and always in my heart.

2) Writing.

Writing for me is like breathing. It is not really a choice. Whether it is a blessing or a curse, there is a never-ending flow of commentary bustling through my brain, which usually starts from an intense feeling that I have about something, from the very mundane to the very complex. I am a processor and an analyzer (sometimes to a fault). I try to let things “just be.” I practice yoga and focus on staying present. Sometimes I can but sometimes, the words jumbled in my brain just have get out, and need to be written down. I have been this way since I was little, always keeping a journal, and loving to write stories and book reports, especially when  asked to explore my very favorite question in the whole wide world: “Why?”

This week, I reached a life-long writing goal. I finished the book I have been working on for the past several years. 64,640 words. Done. This was monumental for me because I have battled with this book. I have written it and rewritten it, what feels like 17 zillion times. I have loved it and despised it. I have been obsessed with it and have been incredibly sick of thinking about it and hearing myself talk about it. I have told myself the following countless times: “YOU CAN’T, YOU WON’T.” I have battled the voices inside my head, “No one really cares what you have to say, there are way too many books for moms, what if no one buys it, what if no one wants to publish it, who are you to write this book?” Yep, I have truly spent way too many hours in the trenches with these voices. But I didn’t stop battling, and what I have realized over the past year is that I was giving those voices way too much power and allowing them to suck up way too much of my time and energy. The only way I was going to finish this book was to dig down deep and find the strength to tell those voices to “SHUT THE F UP!” And the voice that overrode the others and gave me the strength to see the book to completion (combined with the love, support and encouragement of friends and family) was a very simple, steady, clear voice that said, “Write the book. Do the work. Don’t give up. You. Can. Do. It.”

Do I know if a publisher will pick it up? No. Do I know that I will self publish if no one does? Yes. Do I know if anyone will read/buy the book? No. Do I believe in my heart of hearts that this book will be helpful and instrumental to moms who are trying to take care of themselves while taking care of their families? Yes. Do I feel grateful to all of those who supported and believed in me throughout this process especially during times when I did not believe in myself? Beyond grateful.

47. Margie.  Life.

Writing. A Dream Fulfilled.

Gratitude.

Friday Faves! The Attempt to Outsmart Our Teens

Another excerpt from Book 1 on riding the teenage roller coaster:

A friend of mine recently  told me a story about when he was in high school and he was all ready to go out for a night on the town with his buddies. He had a 12-pack of beer in the trunk of the family car and he was ready to roll. As he was saying goodbye to his mom, she suddenly said to him, “Hey Tom, I think I forgot something in the trunk, will you come out with me and help me get it?” “Ummm, mom, no, I gotta go! I am late to pick up Bob. I really gotta go now,” Tom said nervously.  “I will do it when I get home.” His mom looked at him sternly and said, “No Tom, we will do it now.”

So, there went the beer and the plans for the night. Tom, who now has four kids of his own, can laugh about it today, and talk endearingly about his all-knowing mom, “I don’t know how she knew, but she just knew.” But Tom also revealed that for as many times as his mom knew, there twice as many times that she didn’t.

We all have these kinds of stories and then some. There were times when our parents figured out our meticulously developed, fail-safe plans to engage in stupid, and sometimes illegal teenage antics, and sometimes they didn’t and we got away with it. I bet it would be fair to say that the majority of you reading this  have at least one “lucky-to-be-alive” teenage story that you have vowed to NEVER share with your children.

And this is exactly what scares us! We want our children to be able to live to tell (or not tell) their  children their own stories about how they pulled the wool over our eyes . But we are too smart for any wool to be pulled over our eyes, right? We are MUCH smarter and clued in than our parents were. Maybe. But according to some recent admissions of  my now 19-year-old, apparently, I missed a few things.

Escape the Cold by Filling Out Summer Camp Forms!

As a Minnesotan, December is the month when our landscape turns into a nasty frozen tundra, and it is difficult to savor the memories of the past summer or to believe that we will EVER be relieved of our constant state of FROZEN. But, of course, even though we sometimes have to wait until May, the thaw does come.  My most notable December reminder of the warm hope of summer is delivered by envelopes and emails containing none other than…summer camp forms.

As much as I dread filling them out, I am filled with gratitude and appreciation for all that summer camp means to our family. All four of our kids were/are AVID summer campers (and our oldest is now an AVID summer camp counselor). To say that they love camp is an understatement. They deeply CRAVE it. My husband and I have always understood the value of summer camp, and the value of sending kids away, in general, to allow them to forge new experiences on their own, and to grow and develop their sense of self, separate from mom and dad. I knew that summer camp and the relationships developed there, helped my daughter escape the stresses of school and some tough years she had socially; and that my son was able to feel whole again after he experienced several months of being bullied at school. My older son’s love for camp prompted him to attend a high school program in Israel last summer with several of his camp friends. And my youngest daughter, who was hesitant to go away to camp last summer, as a more quiet and somewhat shy 9-year-old, came back after her two weeks away, with a renewed confidence and a less fearful outlook on life.

It would take me pages upon pages to reflect on the countless ways that my kids’ (and my husband and my) lives have been profoundly impacted by their/our overnight summer camp experiences. I thought it would be even more beneficial for you to read some of my daughter’s impressions on how summer camp was pivotal in shaping her into the young woman she is today. She gave me her permission to share a portion of an essay she wrote for a college English class on the importance of allowing and encouraging kids to spend some time away from home during their formative years (referred to as mobility).

“In reflecting upon one’s childhood, it is difficult, if not impossible, to uncover a specific defining moment in which one transitions from a child to an adult. If adulthood is defined by reaching a certain age, then perhaps one could say that it is the moment when one turns eighteen. Yet, adulthood seems to be a much more complex concept than something that is marked by the celebration of one birthday. Although I am confident that I am not done developing, and at nineteen years old I still have much to learn, I can identify one specific experience that played a key role in my evolution from youth to a higher level of maturity.

When I hopped on that coach bus headed for Eagle River, Wisconsin, at eight years old, I had no idea what was in store for me. I was eager to make new friends, be independent, and connect to my faith, but I had no idea that this journey I was making on my own would be so crucial in my development. Over my 11 summers away from home at Camp Interlaken as a camper, then counselor, I learned so many things that a summer at home with my family just could not teach me. I learned how amazing it feels to truly be yourself; to be in a position of leadership, to make a camper’s day, to shower in the presence of unknown scary insects (not so amazing, but certainly eye opening), and all of these experiences helped me to become a less sheltered, and more grown up version of myself.

Had I not taken the leap, and stayed in the comfort of my home that fateful first summer, so many aspects of my personality that I feel proud of today, would never have been developed.

What is the value of sending kids away? There were always some moms who sneered at my mother when she told them she sent me to camp for a month at ten years old, questioning her true love and devotion to me. I, however, believe in the wisdom of the age-old statement, “if you love something, set it free.” While it is difficult to send children away, out of fear of something happening to them, or fear of missing them too much, it is so important for children to have experiences on their own because of the fundamental development that results.

It was the second night of camp, and Sarah was still crying. She was having a tough time adjusting: she missed her parents, she hated the food, the small beds and just wanted to go home. As the days passed, Sarah slowly came out of her shell, and quickly became one of my best friends. Had Sarah not stuck it out, it is doubtful that she would have developed the amazing self confidence that encouraged her to pursue her cross country career, which led her to be recruited to run here at this college!

Mobility can do amazing things, especially in our formative years. When we, as children, adolescents, teens, and even young adults, are away from home, and are surrounded by people who hold no preconceived ideas about who we are, we can be whomever we want. We can be fearless, outspoken, mean, rebellious, genuine, greedy, smart, kind—it is up to us. Sometimes these newfound personalities will stick, and sometimes not, but being away affords us the opportunity to try them out, and create our own hybrid of personalities that we want to define us.”

I think that about covers it…So, if you are considering sleep-away camp for your child, but are maybe a little hesitant, I would encourage you to go ahead and start filling out the forms. I highly doubt you or your child will regret it.

If you have stories to share about how you and/or your child/ren have been impacted by overnight camp, I would love to hear them!

I MADE IT TO HELL AND BACK WITH MY TEENAGE DAUGHTER! Via Scary Mommy!

Beautiful baby girls start out so sweet and loving, and so ridiculously adorable. But, fast forward a decade and suddenly… they’re not.

Please head over to Scary Mommy to read the full post.

Today is Launch Day for The HerStories Project!

I am very excited to announce that today is Launch Day for The HerStories Project: Women Explore the Joy, Pain, and Power of Female Friendship, and that that I am one of 50 contributors to this new anthology, including a foreword from Jill Smokler of Scary Mommy! This collection of essays about women’s friendship, compiled by the wonderful and talented Jessica Smock and Stephanie Sprenger, is a reflection of just how important these relationships can be.

Jessica and Stephanie share their thoughts on their book: "All women’s friendships tell a story: these sacred bonds define us, and contain our history within walls that are both fragile and powerful. The girlfriend who held your hand during a time of intense grief. The best friend who broke your heart. The woman who helped you find your footing and retain your sanity as a mother. The friendship that turned toxic. The person you don’t think you could survive without. The bonds of female friendship are among the most essential and distinct of all relationships. The friendships in the life of a woman serve as mirrors, reflecting who she was, how she has evolved, and revealing what she needs and craves in her life. In this book, 50 women writers paint real pictures of friendship; in addition to paying homage to the beauty and power of their relationships, they share the gritty details of bitter friendship breakups and uncomfortable life transitions."

My journey to become a contributor to this powerful book on friendship came about because of newly developed friendships that I have formulated since staring my blog eight months ago. Little did I know that I would find myself in an incredibly supportive community of women writers and bloggers. I met Jessica Smock through local writer, fellow contributor, and most importantly, friend and mentor, Nina Badzin. Nina introduced Jessica and I through twitter, and we proceeded to connect through email and phone conversations. We hit it off right away as we shared several parallel life experiences, as well as us each having a desire to write a book. Not long after we "met," Jessica asked me if I would like to submit a story about friendship for a website that she and her friend, Stephanie Sprenger were in the process of developing. Stephanie also reached out to me in an authentic way, and I could tell that these two women were the real deal. I immediately jumped at the opportunity to be a part of something they were working on, and began thinking about powerful friendships that I have had/have in my life.

I sent the following email to Jessica:

“Jessica, thank you. I am honored that you asked me. The stories [that you and Stephanie have already posted] are amazing and I am not sure that I have a friendship story as powerful as those you have gathered but I will work to write something meaningful. The first thing that comes to mind is: My younger sister (and only sibling) is my best friend. Hands down. She knows me inside and out and loves me anyway. We were not very close growing up. I once threw a rock at her head…”

And Jessica responded,

“Hi, Julie. You DEFINITELY have a great friendship story.  (You're practically written it already!)  I have had a similar experience with my sister…”

And that is how my contribution to this book, “You and Me,” came to be, and how my friendship with Jessica continued to grow. I am honored to have my piece included in this compilation, and to be among the 50 women writers, many of whom I have had the opportunity to connect with via our blogs, twitter or facebook. I am beyond thrilled for Jessica and Stephanie, who have worked tirelessly to pull our voices together in this meaningful collection.

Please consider purchasing this book (or e-book) as a gift for the women in your life this holiday season. To learn more about the Her Stories Project and to purchase a copy of the book, head over to the The HerStories Project website. If you click on the CreateSpace purchase button and use this promo code: HK5T27Y3, you will receive $2 off each book you purchase.

Friday Faves! Home For Thanksgiving!

This week's Friday Fave is not a quote from book #1. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, and having our family of six all under our roof again, I had to go with this photo. It depicts the raw emotion of my daughter and a few of her closest friends seeing each other for the first times since they all left for college in August. The embrace continued on for several minutes as more of her friends showed up at our house and joined in. These girls have been together since they were 9, and have survived numerous ups and downs in their friendships and in their individuals lives. And yet their bond remains secure and strong. The miles between their colleges are just numbers. They are united by a love that I believe, for many of them, will be lifelong.

I am grateful that my daughter has these friendships, which contain history and understanding, and most importantly comfort and security. And for me, I loved hearing the screeches and the loud voices in my house again. I loved hearing the music blaring and looking over to see the dance party happening in the kitchen. I love that I had a chance to connect with these girls, whom I adore, and are like daughters to me. I am also grateful for the wonderful friendships that my husband and I have developed with their parents, and that they also gathered in our home to toast the holidays and to feel the joy of seeing all the girls together again.

This is a brand new part of Thanksgiving weekend...and for me, it is right up there with chocolate chip pecan pie!

Friday Faves!

On Dealing With Adolescents/Teens:

“Let me see, the silent treatment works wonders, door slamming, disappearing into the cave, escape into alcoholic stupors, endless hours watching mind-numbing TV, extended shopping splurges.  I wonder how my children are coping.  All joking aside, we have lots of conversations, and it helps that my partner is a psychologist and adept at navigating this mind field much better than I am.  I make all of my buttons available for pushing at any time.  Both of my daughters know exactly where they are.  In fact we are thinking of making a coat with the leftovers.” (Mother of two children, ages 11 and 15)

“Who Do You Think You Are?!” Sibling Rivalry and the Use of the Shame Stick

“Shame, blame, disrespect, betrayal, and the withholding of affection damage the roots from which love grows. Love can only survive these injuries if they are acknowledged, healed and rare.”  —Brene' Brown

“Who do you think you are?!” I said it. No, I said it REALLY LOUDLY to my son the other night when he made fun of his brother who was already upset about something. I promised myself I would not poke my kids with the shame stick (my made up reference to the destructive words that, when used, can cause a person to question their own self-worth). And yet, I spoke out of anger and frustration, and said things that I wished I wouldn't have, because I wanted his behavior to change, to stop, and this was certainly not the first time I had asked him.

I realized, after I calmed down, that there were two main thoughts that screamed in my own head before they came out of my mouth. When I saw behavior in my son that I didn’t like, I immediately thought, “What is wrong with him that he would act like that? He should know better!” And then, I turned it inward, “What is wrong with me that I have a son who acts so insensitively to his brother? I must be doing something very wrong.”

Using that damn shame stick on both of us­—a double whammy!

Since we all know that this kind of thinking will get us absolutely nowhere, it’s time to back track and look at what is real and what is completely blown out of proportion. First of all, siblings pick on siblings… can’t think of anything more normal (my sister has the goods on me for sure!). Cajoling amongst siblings certainly does not mean there is a “character flaw” in any of them. In fact, most of the time, my kids are good to one another, and I know that they all care about each other tremendously. And then to take it a step further and throw myself under the bus for how my son acts…that’s a bit of a stretch. Last week, I looked over and saw that my older son had his arm around my daughter and was helping his little sister with her homework, without me asking. Do I take credit for that? No.

I have given my kids messages their whole lives about how important it is to be respectful to one another. I have always called out any one of my kids who is mistreating one of their siblings. They understand that it is not okay to make fun of one another or put each other down for kicks. Yet, they still do it, and probably will continue to do so for the remainder of the time that they live in my house, and maybe throughout their lives. And I will continue to point out that it is not okay.

Sibling rivalry and tension is not new. Me, losing my cool with my kids every so often, is not new either, unfortunately. What is relatively new is my awareness of how sometimes, when I have been extremely upset about one of my kid’s behaviors, I have poked them with the shame stick.

This needs to go.

“Who do you think you are” needs to be changed to, “I know who you are. I know you are a good person who cares about and loves his siblings. When you pick on one of them, it seems like you are being insensitive and unkind. This isn’t consistent with how I know you feel about them.”

At first, however, I probably will need to yell this messages. Otherwise, my kids will for sure think that I have been brainwashed by Dr. Phil.

For more on shame and parenting, check out Brene’ Brown’s “The Whole Hearted Parenting Manifesto” in the Huffington Post.

A "Letting Go" Biggie—Your Kid: Driving A Car

It was like in the movie Father of the Bride when Steve Martin is looking at his daughter across the dinner table and he sees her transform from a 20-something young woman to a little girl in pigtails who can barely see over the table as she tells him in squeaky voice, “I’m getting married.” That’s how I saw my daughter behind the wheel of the car. To this day, I am not certain if my unexpected panic about her driving came from my idea that she wasn’t ready to drive a car, or that I wasn’t ready to have her driving a car. Either way, this particular right of passage, especially with my oldest child, hit me like a ton of bricks. (This transition was hard in different ways with my son.) My daughter’s learning how to drive, and then driving on her own was like being on an airplane, stuck in turbulence, for a long, long time and you wonder if you are EVER going to hit smooth air again, or whether this plane is actually ever going to find its way to solid ground.

When my daughter was 15 and passed her driver’s permit test, I thought I would be excited for her and eager to have her practice driving with me. I would be the calm, cool mom, riding shotgun as her daughter cruises around town, both of us grinning from ear to ear, listening to our favorite music. I would be giving her friendly reminders to signal her turns, and to speed up when merging onto the freeway.

Ha!

That was not even close to our reality. All was fine when we practiced in the empty parking lot at a shopping mall during off hours on a Sunday. But when it was time for her to get out on the road...”NOOOOO! STOP!” I couldn’t do it. Why? Because I was petrified that she was going to make a catastrophic driving mistake that would kill us both. And I couldn’t let that happen because I have three other children who need me! When I drive, and she is in the passenger seat, I am in control. But being her passenger was not going to work for me. I was unable to give her that control. Because I was afraid to let go. Or just afraid.

Of course I wanted her to drive. I should have been doing the victory dance that I would soon have another driver in the family.  This would eventually make my life easier. But the fear of letting go combined with the fear for her safety (and mine) was a huge mental and physical roadblock for me.

Looking back at my own 16-year-old track record didn’t do much to boost my confidence in my 16-year-old new driver. As I recall (and my parents can confirm, although they would probably rather forget), I was involved in three accidents during my first year of driving. Two of which involved inanimate objects that simply neglected to get out of the way when my car got too close to them. Needless to say, I am probably not the best equipped to coach an inexperienced driver, given my disturbing memories of being behind the wheel at 16.  I gladly turned the driving coach job over to my husband.

My daughter learned to drive. She got her license. I let go. But I continued and continue to cling onto what dupes me into thinking I have some control—my worry.

The first day of her driving independently was a milestone for both of us. As she put the car in reverse and turned to look out of the rear window while backing out of the driveway, undoubtedly bursting with excitement about her newfound freedom, I felt that my heart would burst out of my chest.  I am not sure that this feeling stopped until I heard her pull into the driveway several hours later. Whether you are a g-d-fearing person or not, these are often the times when you make all sorts of promises to your higher power about how you will never question her again as long as she keeps your daughter safe on the road, ensures that all impaired drivers do not cross her path, and that she does not succumb to ANY distractions while driving.

Even after years of her driving, I still said a prayer every morning when my daughter got into the car with my three other children and drove them to school. “Precious cargo!!” I would yell as she tore out of the driveway, no longer quite as attentive to turning all the way around when she backed up, blaring her music way too loudly from her ipod, and leaving the house usually five minutes past the agreed upon departure time.

It is scary to let go. Really scary—but it is a critical part of our job description (written in very fine print). What I realize now, three years after my daughter joined the world of licensed drivers, is that the terror I felt in allowing her to drive a car was a necessary warm-up for all sorts of letting go that we parents must do with our teens.  Each milestone is both necessary and exciting, and yet is often met with fear and uncertainty, especially on the part of the parent. And it may get a little easier with each kid, but the thought of my younger two driving makes my heart start racing immediately!

For the record, I have to admit that I am truly relieved that my daughter does not presently have a car at college. Just one less thing to add to the never-ending heap of motherhood worries that so many of us share.

I would love to hear about your experiences with your new driver or how you feel about the idea of your child driving a car some day. It's a biggie!

Friday Faves!

For the past three years, as most of you know, I have been working on a book about motherhood. The book has taken many different twists and turns. It started out as a book that was more of a "what to expect" book, which would guide moms through the motherhood journey from their child's birth to leaving the nest. I felt that this would be helpful to moms at every stage of motherhood, whereas a mom of a toddler could be able to peek at what age 16 looks like. Well, the publishers and agents I queried did not agree. "The subject matter is too broad," they said. "Moms want to read about whatever they are dealing with RIGHT NOW, such as, 'My infant won't sleep so I want to read about infants, not teenagers.' " Okay, fair enough. After I moped around in my rejection haze for too long, I decided to change my focus a bit. One issue that is universal to moms no matter what stage they are in with their children is self-care. This is also an issue that nearly every mother struggles with, so, my new and improved book angle, which is in its final editing and polishing stage, covers how moms take care of themselves personally, relationally and professionally while raising their children. I am really excited about the project and hope that all the mothers who read it will find that it provides them with the tools to live more authentically and happily as they journey through motherhood. Personally, the research I have done for this book has taught me so much and has helped me find strength during times when I felt that my life had begun to spin out of control.

But here's the catch. As I made the transition from Book #1 to Book #2, I had to leave a heaping amount of extremely valuable material on the cutting room floor... which leads me to my  Friday Faves. I have decided that every Friday, I am going to share some of my favorite quotes or stories from the 400 moms I surveyed and interviewed over the years for Book #1. Some of you readers will see yourselves in these quotes and stories. But your identity is safe with me!

The following story is this week's Friday Fave:

A friend of mine, who we will call Ruth, explained to me how frustrated she was with her 10-year-old daughter who refused to pick up her clothes in her room after being asked to do so over and over again. One day Ruth walked into her daughter’s room and was furious when she saw her daughter’s clothes still covering the floor of her room. Ruth proceeded to take off all her clothes and drop them on the floor and said, “See, this is what it is like! This is my house and you are not picking up your clothes in my house, so I am going to leave my clothes on the floor of your room!”

And she stormed out of the room.

If you haven’t done something like this yet, you most likely will have moments when you will or will want to! Dramatic, yes, but surely Ruth’s daughter now thinks twice before she drops her clothes on the floor of her room. She may still do it, but she certainly will think about it differently. And at some point, she will have a great story to tell her own daughter when she won’t pick up her clothes in her room. “You’ll never believe what Grandma Ruth did when she was upset with me for not picking up the clothes my room.”

We moms have to give our kids some good stories to tell our own kids, don’t we?!

If you have any good, funny or memorable stories you'd like to share (and you can certainly request to remain anonymous), please email me at unscriptedmom@gmail.com. I would love to post them on my Friday Faves!