Mother and Child Reunion - by Cara

There seems to be somewhat of an epidemic going on. And I love it!

Even before Robin took her son on a “Mommy and Son” vacation - just the two of them - I had been mulling over taking my own son, by myself, on a vacation at the end of this summer. Since Robin took her trip, I’ve learned that there are quite a few parents following this trend!

The very first Mom I heard of doing this was a friend who’s son was 5.

They went to Hawaii, of all places, last summer! My friend had just gotten laid off from her job, her son was off from school, and her husband stayed home to manage construction that would have had to have been delayed until the Fall, had no one been home during this time.

This friend and her son had a blast!! They went for 2 weeks, last July, and uploaded all of the exciting places they visited and things they did onto Facebook via my friend’s laptop! All of the Facebook friends were so jealous!! But her trip got me thinking. My husband could certainly use a vacation, I would have loved to get away, and my son would have had the time of his life, no matter where we went!

Well, plans were never made. Tension between my husband and I was mounting. And our son was going through a lot of testing over the summer for various learning issues. A vacation was just not meant to come to fruition last year.

Then, during the winter, my son saw a commercial for the Atlantis Resort in the Bahamas! We had gone on a cruise a couple years ago and the Bahamas was one of the ports we visited. Spending a day at the beautiful Atlantis Resort was one of the excursions we chose to go on. My husband and son wanted to “swim with the dolphins,” so while they interacted with the dolphins, I took pictures!

This resort was so wonderful! It is upscale, but child-friendly, with such an assortment of things to do! This got me thinking again. Maybe for the week between summer camp ending and school starting, I could take my son to this resort!! I haven’t made plans yet, because I am actually going there by myself in a few weeks. But I plan on checking out the resort for all types of kid-friendly things to do! If it looks as kid-friendly as it seems, this may be our “Mommy and Son” destination stop! However, I digress.

Next, Robin went with her son to Asheville and loved it so much she wishes she were there right now! Her description on her blog sounded so exciting! I wanted to go there myself! And she said she bonded with her son so much while they were away, as did my friend who went to Hawaii! I really want that experience with my son too!

Now, just a few days ago, I learned that another friend is taking her 7 year old daughter to 5 days at Disney in Orlando, once school ends in June. Then they will follow that up with 5 days on a Disney Cruise!!

Wow!! Now I am investigating the Disney cruise as a possibility because my son adored going on the 2 cruises we went on when we were a family, and he adores the Disney characters!! So that is another potentiality!

I also listen to a parenting podcast where one of the co-hosts took her eldest son (age 7) to Florida to visit relatives and (of course) visit Disney. And when I injured my rib a couple weeks ago, my female doctor said that she took her son (who I understand, loves to ski!) on a trip, somewhere out west, during Spring Recess, to go skiing! Just the two of them! And she raved about the bond that was created between she and her son, even more than the skiing itself!

So I am making plans for my son and I to go somewhere fun, exciting, and a place where we can make our own memories and bond like crazy!! After this immensely difficult year, I think we both need to get away and have fun! Most importantly, I want my son to know how important these experiences are, and I want him to look back in years to come and have warm memories of our Mommy and Me” time spent together! You can bet that I certainly will!!

Like Riding a Bicycle - by Cara

My 6 1/2 year old son learned how to ride a bicycle without training wheels for the first time this past week! I must give all of the credit to my “husband” who worked with my son almost every nice day after school. I was unable to physically participate due to an injured rib (a long story). My husband runs between 5 - 10 miles each day, so he was physically able to run next to my son. At first, my husband would hold the seat, next he kept his arms out in case my son wobbled. Finally he ran next to my son, coaching him on how to use the brakes!

I’m so proud of my son! More importantly, my son is so extremely proud of himself! He would come into the house with his red, rosy cheeks and report to me how he didn’t even wobble once! Or that Daddy didn’t have to keep his arms out to catch him anymore! You could tell my son was beaming with enthusiasm! Every day there was another small accomplishment to describe with confidence and self-satisfaction!

I can remember back to the days when I learned to ride my own bicycle (those were the days before bicycle helmets, knee pads, and elbow pads!). My father took off the training wheels and ran behind me, holding onto the seat. I seem to remember catching onto bike riding with only 2 wheels pretty quickly. I was off! Wind blowing through my hair, streamers fluttering in the wind off the ends of my handle bars! The requisite bicycle bell, and a pretty pink basket tied to the front of the handle bars! Most of all, though, I can remember feeling that riding a 2 wheel bicycle was one significant step towards autonomy! In my childhood days, once you were able to ride a 2 wheel bicycle, the world was your oyster! You could ride to a friend’s house several blocks away and knock on their door to see if they could come out and play (they were not bogged down learning algebra or statistics in those days!), and if they were free, the two of us would find streets with hills or curves! We were learning to master riding our bicycles! It’s a shame that life for children is not the same as it was 40 years ago (was it REALLY that long ago?).

But back to my son...he has nothing else to compare his riding experience to, so he is enjoying every moment of his own new-found autonomy! He is knocking on friend’s doors, along with my husband. My husband then becomes the “chaperone” for the two young riders! I am grateful that my husband sends me video clips so that I will have this milestone event caught digitally to be watched for years to come! And photos taken with my son holding up his bicycle without training wheels!
The smile on this little boy’s face is priceless!

Once my injury heals a little more, I too would like to resume my own exercise regimen. I love to walk long distances and alternate with yoga.
And now that the weather has been mostly cooperating, I am sure that I can slowly work up to the vigorous workouts I still remember so vividly.
I long for the days when I would get up early and walk at least 3 miles before going to work! It energized me and made me a much more productive employee! Even exercise classes taken at night would never “rev me up.”
I used to sleep like a brick those nights after a workout.

So, perhaps getting my body back into the exercising “mode” may not be too difficult, even after years of being a “slug.” I guess it will be like riding a bicycle; Once you master the technique, you never forget how to ride!

Mid-Life Motherhood Crisis -- by Cara

I read Robin’s Blog on Friday, and it resonated with me. To the core. On many levels. Up until 3 years ago, I, too, had to care for my elderly father and a young baby/toddler. I honestly don’t know which was worse...explaining for the 100th time to my father why he had to take a new medication or racing all over the house, preventing my young son from writing on the walls or taking everything out of drawers so he could sit it them!

I call this “Mid-Life Mothering.” Many “later” Moms are feeling this crunch. And even if their parents are healthy, being a single Mom or a working Mom with few resources, can only burden one even more.

I feel for Robin. At the time my father was alive, I, too, went the holistic approach, looking for ways to manage all of my stress. I tried holistic medicine, tinctures, vitamins, Acupuncture (and drinking this horrid “tea” three times a day, which I had to boil for an hour! Oh the stench!!). I started going to a therapist, got weekly massages, exercised regularly. All of these things worked...to a limited extent. My stress level was mounting and I just couldn’t get a handle on it with nontraditional methods.

Enter the big time meds. They worked! They worked REALLY well! Twenty-four/seven! And as much as I hate having to rely on these meds every day, twice (or more) a day, they are what my body needed and still needs. So I understand what Robin is saying about not wanting to rely on meds to manage stress. But sometimes the stress is beyond just ordinary stress. At that point, you need to decide whether the meds might help. If they work miracles (as they did for me), fabulous! If they don’t, you can just opt to not take them anymore.

The reason I am droning on about this is because we ARE the “sandwich generation.” The other day, I went for a walk to try to calm myself down from some stressful news. The walked worked. But only for about 45 minutes afterwards. Then I was going into the medicine cabinet to help myself calm down again.

I am in no way addicted to these meds. I forget to take them sometimes. And then life starts to get to me, and I have to check my pill box to see if I took all of the meds I’m supposed to take. And I’m not a drinker, so that would be of no help to me. In fact, I’ve been reading articles stating that Moms are becoming the newest, “up-and-coming” category of binge drinkers! It starts with a glass of wine once the kids are in bed and escalates to running for the wine glass as soon as they come through the door at the end of the day. What is scary is that I have two friends who do this, and I am quite concerned for them. I personally would rather take my meds and have a fully clear head about me.

So what does all this mean? And where do we go with this? I wish I had the answers. I have my ongoing issues, as we all know. But then “life” throws us a curve ball. Or two or three, all at once! I guess each one of us has to manage our stress in whichever way works best for us.

Before my son was born, I used to take yoga classes for an hour and then go home and meditate between 40 - 60 minutes. I no longer have the luxury of that “healing” time. If I can get a 30-minute walk in most days a week, I’m thrilled! Now I need that time to help my son do his homework (and refocus him to do his homework!). I have to help him learn algebra (yes, algebra...in First Grade. I think I learned it in 9th Grade. What is wrong here?? Why does a First Grader NEED to learn algebra!)? All of these added burdens accumulate. Until your head wants to implode.

I, unfortunately, don’t see my life getting any easier. I do hope and would love to eventually get off all of these meds and enjoy a peaceful meditation session. (Maybe once my son goes to college!) But it seems that as soon as you think you have everything under control, something changes. And it just happens when you least expect it. At the worst possible moment in time.

Have any suggestions or stories to share? I would relish reading and learning how others cope throughout this “Mid-Life Motherhood Crisis.” Please share them with others and me.

Getting Into Science -- by Cara

A few weeks ago, I, along with Bloggers representing other social media, were invited to an Open House at the New York Hall of Science, along with our families! I was very excited to go, as was my son, because they were featuring, Sid the Science Kid Family Day (which my son watches on television endlessly)! Also featured was an exhibit called Math Midway, an interactive exhibition similar to a math theme park! Math Midway was promoted to demonstrate fun and challenging math games which encourage physical interaction to discover the amazement of just how varied mathematics can actually be!

It was an absolutely gorgeous day! As we walked towards the entrance, my son spotted a mini golf course. He wanted that to be his first stop! Upon being greeted graciously by the Blogger Open House staff and given a folder with directions detailing where to go and what to see, my son shot off to the Rocket Park Mini Golf course! Little did we realize that this wasn’t an ordinary golf course! It was a gravity defying designed course where your skill had to match the force of gravity in order to get the ball into the hole! My son, having already been on a real golf course with his Grandfather, knew the proper techniques of playing golf. However none of these techniques were working on this mini golf course! My son even approached other children who were having a difficult time, and instructed them to, “Keep your thumbs pointed down!” This tip actually worked for a little girl who had been struggling to get the ball to cooperate!

Next, we went back inside to visit the Sports Challenge area upstairs. In this area, you get a chance to throw “baseballs” of different weights and sizes to see how far you are able to distance them. There is a mini rock climbing wall, a surfboard simulator, and an interesting display of Wheelchair Racing.” Here, you sit in an actual wheelchair with an opponent next to you. When you both hit the “go” button, you must only use your hands to push the wheels to try to beat your opponent. My son was amazed at how much work it took to roll a wheelchair using just your arms! I explained that there were many people who need to use only their hands to “steer” their wheelchairs all around, everyday. My son said that they must be very strong people! I told him that I was certain they were!

Our next stop was the Science Playground which was outdoors. My son was climbing, sliding and trying out concepts such as motion and solar energy. He had the most fun climbing up the giant spider web! At one point he was hanging upside-down! The weather, as I said, was beautiful, so I had a difficult time convincing him to come in for lunch!

Finally, after lunch, we went to the Math Midway! At this new exhibit, children can learn about and test theories such as probability and symmetry in a carnival-like atmosphere! There were nine exhibits, however my son gravitated towards the ones that caught his interest the most. One exhibit that he spent quite a bit of time on was, “Pirate X and Lady Y.” He teamed up with a little girl and each took turns placing or taking off small weights in order to “balance” the “ship”. They did quite well and were able to get the ship ALMOST perfectly balanced!

Next stop in Math Midway was the “Universal Wheel of Chance.” My son was either very lucky, or the wheel was designed to stop on a higher number each time! Imagine the fun my son had spinning the wheel over and over only to have the wheel land on a higher number with each consecutive spin! What is the probability of that?

Then we were off to “The Mysterious Harmonograph.” Here, children get to create their own unique mathematical drawings from a swinging steel pendulum! My artist son had a blast with this one! He created a design with more unusual squiggles and circular patterns than I think one can reasonably put on a large piece of paper! He didn’t want to stop, though! He was getting a kick out of the “art creation” he was making!

My son’s last stop in Math Midway, was an exhibit called, “Polyhedral Puzzle Plaza.” At this exhibit, children used oversized toys, sticks and cubes, working collaboratively, to create whatever their imaginative minds would allow them. Except for a squabble between two little girls, the children all nicely worked together to build what they interpreted as a “castle.” No matter what the outcome, this activity gave the children the resources to come up with an unusual geometric design of their own imagination and choosing. My son loves doing things with other children, so this was an ideal activity for him!

We eagerly wanted to see Sid the Science Kid. There were two showings in the auditorium; one at 2 pm and the other at 3 pm. The line at the 2 pm showing was wrapped through the museum. I knew my son would never be able to stay in line long enough to wait for the 2 pm showing, nor would he be able to get and stay in line long enough for the 3 pm showing. So, unfortunately we didn’t get to see Sid. But my son was more than appeased when we looked around the gift shop and ended up buying a gem set for him to take home and examine with his microscope!

All in all, it was a fabulous day at the New York Hall of Science! The gorgeous day allowed us to spend some time at the outdoor exhibits, while the indoor exhibits provided plenty to see, do, examine and explore! What a wonderful museum for the entire family to explore! I know we will be back soon...even if it is only to collect more “gems” from the gift shop!

Then, again, having a gemologist in the family may not be such a bad thing after all! Especially when he is your own son!

The Loss of "Fishy" -- by Cara

Fishy died today. He had been struggling off and on for a few months with a disease we just couldn’t seem to pinpoint. Now he is gone, and I am the one feeling the loss.

My son got Fishy, a blue Betta fish, as a birthday party favor (don’t ask...that’s a whole different blog), almost a year ago. He was a happy little fish, in his own tank, swimming around and enjoying the interaction with my son. Soon, as winter approached, our upstairs became drafty and cold. I noticed that Fishy would hide in the bottom of the tank, in a corner. I bought a Betta care book which clearly stated that Bettas like to be in warm water and warm environments. I ran out and bought Fishy a tank heater.

Fishy didn’t seem to take to the tank heater at all. Maybe it frightened him. But Fishy stopped eating. I took the heater out of Fishy’s tank and put the tank on the floor, right up against the radiator. At the same time, we bought a red Betta fish (which my son named, “Red”), and another tank, and put Red right next to Fishy, against the radiator, on the floor. Red was the best thing to happen to Fishy! Fishy would watch Red with his beautiful display of long, flowing fins, and it motivated Fishy! Fishy began to eat again and swim over to watch Red! We were so happy! We thought the problem was solved!

Then over the past few weeks, Fishy stopped eating again. We changed his water weekly. I went out and bought the entire variety of Betta fish food the pet store offered. Red would see me coming with all of the containers of food and start giving me a full body wag! Fishy wouldn’t try anything. A couple weeks went by and Fishy hadn’t eaten. He would just hide in the corner of his tank.

Then, this past week, we decided to get Fishy a larger tank with a filter. We let the water with water conditioner in it sit out for 24 hours. We rinsed off the gravel and plants before they went into the tank. Then we put in Fishy. Everything went downhill from there, day by day. Fishy would hide behind the filter and get “caught.” Then I noticed that his skin was sloughing off on his back. This poor fish was sick. I had to try to save it.

Monday morning I went to the fish store in my pajamas (not kidding!). I brought Fishy with me in a container wrapped in a towel. The manager took one look at Fishy and said he doubted that Fishy would “make it,” but gave me some medicine to try with Fishy anyway.

I raced home, put the medicine in the tank, then put Fishy back in, and waited. I checked on Fishy just about every hour. He looked worse. I hoped another day of medicine might help Fishy a little. Fishy only looked and acted even worse. I put Red next to Fishy. Fishy didn’t respond. Red seemed disappointed.

Finally, today, I discovered Fishy lifeless and floating at the top of the tank. My heart sank. Not only did I feel disappointed that I couldn’t “save” my son’s fish. I felt as if just about everything in my life was dying. And here I was struggling to save this poor fish. I couldn’t even do that. I seem to be trying aimlessly to save a lot of things in my life; my marriage, my family, my son’s fish. And the disappointment is mounting because the reality is that I don’t have full control of any of these things right now. I wanted desperately to be at least Fishy’s savior. But I couldn’t even be that. We will most likely replace Fishy with another fish. I wish it were that easy when it comes to a marriage.

Abandonment -- by Cara

This is the second part of a two part series for this blog.

Abandonment...

A feeling
A feeling of isolation within a relationship
An intense feeling of devastation when a relationship ends
An aloneness not by choice
A woman left by her husband of twenty years
A girl grieving over the death of her mother

Abandonment is all of this and more. It’s wound is at the heart of human experience.
(Excerpted from the book,” The Journey from Abandonment to Healing,” by Susan Anderson, C.S.W.)

The most important purpose for this blog concerns my son. For my husband and I to live under the same roof as “housemates” (AND my husband works from home!), moreover, for it not to be affecting our son in any noticeable way, is downright amazing. And I give my husband and I credit to limiting our disagreements for when our son is not at home. But more importantly, I saw last week how completely vital both my husband and I are to my son at this point in his life.

My husband travels frequently...usually twice a month, for about 3 days per trip. Last week my husband was gone from very early Wednesday morning (my son had just woken up...and he’s an early bird!) to very late on Sunday (almost when my son fell asleep). I could tell by Friday, my son was getting depressed and missing his father. To make matters worse, it had been raining, and predicted to rain the entire weekend. I get severe, chronic pain if we are going to get very bad weather. I was in so much pain, I wanted to gnaw on wood. I had to take my medication with codeine, which meant I wouldn’t be able to drive. I could barely remain awake. My son kept asking when Daddy would be home. I told him 2 more days. My “husband” and I set up Skype on both of our computers so that my son could see and speak to his father while my husband was away. We used Skype both Wednesday and Thursday with my son. My son was elated with this piece of technology! I was elated for my son. But on Friday, my husband was out to dinner with clients and couldn’t get to his hotel to Skype with my son. My son was terribly disappointed. I was too. And in atrocious pain. I slept with my little boy that night.

Knowing I was in so much pain, my Father-in-Law (bless his heart), called early Saturday and offered to take my son to his Karate class and then out to lunch and back to my In-laws house for part of the day. My son couldn’t stay cooped up in the house (especially an ADD child!) with a mother who could barely make meals. So I thanked my Father-in-Law profusely! My son didn’t want to go to Karate. He wanted to go on Skype to see Daddy. My husband was in Texas, and with the time zone change, I knew he wouldn’t appreciate me calling early, but I do what is in the best interest of my son now. I called my husband. I got voicemail and left a message. I texted my husband. No response. My husband used to leave me his flight and hotel itinerary whenever he went away. Forget that. He could be on the moon for all I knew. So I had to tell my son that Daddy was sleeping late and that we would try to “Skype” him later. My son reluctantly went out with my Father-in-Law.

I fell asleep from all of the codeine in my system but woke from a call from my Mother-in-Law, saying that my son was “irritable” and “whiny” and wanted to go home badly to “see” Daddy. I knew he wanted to try to “Skype” with my husband. So while my Father-in-Law was driving my son back home, I called my husband. He couldn’t Skype because he was on his way out to a conference. He couldn’t get calls during the conference, which would last at least 2 hours. My heart sunk for my little boy. I pleaded with my husband to try to at least find a few minutes to call and speak with my son because my son needed to hear his father’s voice. My husband said that he would “try” later.

My son came home and asked to “see” Daddy. I tried to explain that Daddy said he would call later. He wanted to know when Daddy would be coming home. I told him tomorrow. The two of us were a pair of zombies in front of the television. Me in terrible physical pain, my son in terrible emotional pain.

Later that night, after a full day of not hearing from my husband, and before he brushed his teeth, my son asked, “Mommy? Is Daddy dead?” My heart skipped a beat, but I calmly said, no, Daddy was just very busy on his trip. My son doesn’t really understand the concept of death. My father used to live with us before he died. Once my father DID die, we explained that Grandpa would always be with us in our hearts and our memories, but would not physically be coming back home. Five minutes after my son fell asleep, my husband texted me to see if he could speak to our son. I told him no. Our son had just fallen asleep. I slept with my son that night as well. I held his little hand in mine.

Finally it was Sunday. My husband called early because he had to catch an early flight back and he could tell through my numerous attempts, that my son wanted to speak with him. My son was so happy and excited! He wanted to Skype with his father, but my husband was already in a taxi on his way to the airport, so he couldn’t Skype. My husband promised that he would call my son before his plane took off.

When my son got off the phone, he eagerly wanted to know EXACTLY on the clock when Daddy would be home. He told us his plane was to arrive at approximately 3:00 pm. My son planted himself down and would not budge from the house. I was still having residual pain, so I couldn’t take my son anywhere. My Father-in-Law called. He wanted to spend some time with my son. My son adamantly declined; he was waiting for his Daddy to come home. He refused to leave the house.

The rain was pouring outside; thunder was heard periodically. We received a call from my husband…due to the thunderstorms in New York, his flight would be delayed for at least a few hours. My heart sunk for my son. I had to gather up the courage to tell him that Daddy would be delayed by a few hours. My son insisted on wanting to now EXACTLY when Daddy would arrive home. I said I wasn’t sure. But I reassured my son that Daddy WAS coming home.

My son was depressed the rest of the day. He did not want to do anything. He didn’t want to play a game, play some cards, put Legos together…all things that I honestly was in too much pain to want to do, but if it lifted my son’s spirits, I’d grit my teeth and act as happy as possible for the sake of my son.

Then I had an idea. We hadn’t heard from my husband in quite awhile so I said to my son, “If we call Daddy and get his voicemail immediately, that means that Daddy is on the plane, on his way home, because he has to shut off his cell phone while he is flying on the plane.” I dialed the number to my husband’s cell phone and placed it next to my son’s ear. The call went straight to voicemail. “Daddy is coming! Daddy is coming!” My son’s spirits lifted tremendously.

Once my husband’s plane landed, he called to let us know, and again, my son wanted to know EXACTLY when Daddy would be coming home. I assured him it would be very soon. It was close to my son’s bedtime, but I knew he would not fall asleep until Daddy was safe at home. In fact, my son called my husband three times while my husband was in the taxi on his way home to assure himself that Daddy would be home soon.

My husband finally arrived home. With a stuffed animal gift for my son. My son was so relieved; he hugged and kissed his father, gathered the new stuffed animal in his arms, and fell fast asleep, tightly hugging his new toy.

It was through this five-day ordeal that I realized two important things. First, pain or no pain…medical crises or not…I will ALWAYS find a way to care of and be there for my son. I was a single Mom for those few days. With pain so excruciating, I could hardly think straight. But when it came to my son, I met every one of his needs at home. I will always be able to take care of my son, medical conditions or not.

The second, and more important realization is that at this point in my son’s life, he needs BOTH of his parents. And he preferably needs them in the same home. We recently went to a parent/teacher/principal meeting and were told that my son is doing SO much better in school than from earlier in the year. If I were to have my husband removed from our home, the person I would be hurting the most would be my son. I couldn’t bear to do that to him. I am the one abandoned. My son does not need to be abandoned too. But this is not the first time for me. And through therapy, I can eventually put the pieces of my life and my heart back together. One tiny piece at a time.

Honesty - Part I -- by Cara

The past few weeks Motherhood Later has brought on board several new bloggers along with their stories and former struggles. Two bloggers, Liimu and Laura have stories of their lives which have been resonating with me. A lot. Almost constantly. Liimu and Laura are two, what appear to be, very strong but resilient individuals. I read the openers for each of their first blogs and then read the blogs themselves. I was floored as to how these two women have turned their lives around and aspired to get out of life what they really wanted. They inspire me. Which is the crux of my blog today.

My life has not been an easy one either. Nothing close to what others have had to endure, but stressful enough. My mother died when I was a teenager. My father was an “older” father with many heart problems (he would have been 92 this past Monday. He died 3 years ago). And I had to care for him for probably a full decade. My son was born with Gastric Reflux induced colic, which lasted for months on end. Then we found out he had Sensory Processing Disorder. Later, Auditory Processing Disorder and ADD, both, which impact his learning ability in school. But as anyone who treats or knows an ADD/ADHD person, they will tell you that they are extremely bright and creative individuals! So although my son has difficulty reading and writing and is getting extra services in school to help him, he could also chew your ear off about molecules and dinosaurs and the fact that it is now Fall on the other side of the world (he is 6). I often kid that I can almost see him as a doctor because he is incredible in math and science but has the handwriting of a doctor! But I digress.

I simply won’t bore you with the number of medical problems I have. One of which I am dealing with the physical affects of as I write. And the numbers of prescription pills I take are probably as many or more than my father was taking at age 89. I chalk up all of these medical conditions to stress that has built up over my very stressful lifetime. However, I am currently living the most stressful event of my life. Something that I NEVER expected. Something that if you told me a year ago would happen, I would have laughed hysterically and said, “Nonsense!” Something I now grieve every day...the “loss” of my marriage.

My husband (I’m not sure how else to refer to him) and I have known each other for over 20 years. We will have been “married” for 15 years as of this May. Beginning last summer, at the same time as we discovered my son’s learning issues, and I was battling a yet undiagnosed medical problem, my husband’s personality did a 180 degree flip. He changed so drastically; I almost couldn’t discern who this person was whom I was living with. This went on until this past January when my husband wanted to “separate.” I was beyond devastated. My life came crashing down on me. My one stable part of my life...my foundation...was ripped right from under me. When I asked why, he said he didn’t know. When I suggested marriage counseling, some 2 dozen times, he adamantly refused to go. We each sought legal counsel. Both of our lawyers said that if either of us ever wants full custody of our son, we MUST remain living in our present home. It is practically assumed that I would get custody of our son, so I cannot leave our house. My deluded husband has his own mistaken idea that HE would get custody of our son, based on my many medical conditions. Therefore, HE refuses to move out. I sleep in one bedroom, he sleeps in another and we go about our days as “housemates.”

The most important issue in all of this is our son. I guess because of his ADD or other issues, as long as both of his parents are in his home, together, his world is complete. His behavior both in and out of school has not changed one iota. His performance in school has actually improved. He is happy and playful and enjoying life, which I am tremendously thankful for. I grieve and suffer alone at other times. And have an incredible support system of friends. My world of feeling safe and secure is no longer. But I need for my son to feel safe and secure. So I weep in silence. And hope and pray that I can provide this feeling of safety and security for him.

One of the reasons I needed to disclose all of this is that I felt I was living a lie writing about my son but leaving out the “dirty laundry.” My life has piles of dirty laundry right now, and I can no longer step around them. I have to step into them. Thus my need to be honest with myself and with my readers. I could certainly sidestep the issue of the dissolution of my marriage, but it is that very same part that I need my readers to be aware of to get the full picture of what I am facing.

Right now I feel like a single Mom. My best friend is a single Mom by choice...she adopted a little boy who is ironically only 3 months younger than my son. And I ask her constantly, “How do you do it? You work full-time, have a part-time job, a son, a dog, and a house to maintain! How the heck do you do it?” She always replies, “You just do. It’s hard. But you just do what you have to do, sometimes day by day.”

So I guess that is what I intend to do. Take care of life one day at a time. The best I can. With all of the resilience and strength I can muster. And grieve on those days that I cannot.

This is Part I of a two-part blog. Part II will be featured next week as I try to “go it alone” with my child.

Motherhood -- by Cara

I just finished watching a DVD called, “Motherhood.” When the movie came to the theatres not too long ago, I heard that the reviews were not great. But I still wanted to see it, so I waited and rented it instead.

The reviewers were right; it was, overall, not such a great movie. But for Moms, there were a lot of underlying issues that the movie brought out that I felt were great for discussion.

The first and probably universal one was time. Time for oneself. Time to do everything on your “To Do” list. Time spent with family. Time you give to your children. There is just never enough “time” to go around to get anything done completely. And the movie draws this out nicely but almost too accurately. The Mom (Uma Thurman) has her list. And it is the day before her daughter turns 6 years old. And throughout the movie, this Mom is trying to “beat the clock” getting everything ready for her daughter’s birthday party that evening. I could almost see it as an average day in my life, with the exception that this movie took place in what appeared to be New York City, while I live in the suburbs outside of New York City. Yet, as a book I am reading, called “The Mask of Motherhood,” by Susan Maushart states, “When we consider the alternatives to the juggled life, the picture is equally, albeit differently, depressing. There is no doubt that to ‘Do it all’ leaves women breathless and resentful.” I like that description. I don’t know how many times I’ve said to friends, “I feel claustrophobic,” with regard to my overwhelming list of other’s needs, coupled with other various, “things to do.” Friends have commented that they can’t believe all of the errands I can get done within a six hour time period. My record was 10 different stores in areas as far as 15 miles away in less than 6 hours! Give me a Starbucks Latte, and I can literally race through my day! But still and all, I may win the race, but the resentment is still there. One way to get around this issue of “time” is also reflected in the movie.

It seemed, in “Motherhood”, that each parent voluntarily took one of their children (there were two children in this movie) as a way to “share the burden,” so to speak. I am finding that a lot among the families I know. Even in our own home, our son seems to get passed from my husband to me or me to my husband so that we both can have a little “down time.” Personally, I don’t know that this is a particularly good idea because the family almost becomes fragmented. I see it in our own home. We actually have to schedule events for all three of us to go to. Otherwise, I am the sit on the floor, play a game, or do a craft type of parent. My husband is the rock climbing, swimming, hiking Dad who takes our son on more physical outings. I see and hear of many parents dividing their parental duties this way. In some ways, it gives each parent a little breather. On the other hand, the family becomes too distant. I guess only time will tell what works best for each family. Susan Maushart, in her book brings out, “There is no doubt that the exclusive-care mother has a more intense relationship with her children. It is also worth bearing in mind that both the concept and the practice of exclusive-care motherhood are historical and cultural anomalies.” Throughout history, mothers have always had some form of “help” when it came to raising her children. Grandparents sometimes lived in the same home or very close by. Aunts and Uncles would drop by and lend a hand. And mothers who lived near to one another would congregate in one or another’s home and provided much needed support, as well as a place for their young children to play. “It takes a village,” to raise a child. And if the “village” is barren, sometimes it takes a spouse or even a friend.

Finally, a very noticeable thing was that Moms were portrayed as looking only half put together, frazzled, day-old, dirty messes. I must confess, in the early days of motherhood, that was me to a “T.” But this Mom had a Kindergartener and a 3 or 4 year old. A neighbor commented that Uma’s character was still wearing her pajamas as she walked her daughter to school. She changed outfits when she returned home, but decided to forgo a shower to work on a freelance writing assignment. So many Moms seem to be running out the door in their pajamas (yes, I am guilty) to take their child to school or to get a quick errand done. But I TRY to look at least HALF respectable. Yes, there are the Moms who have hired help to maintain some semblance of orderliness in their homes. And they are the Moms who can actually take a shower, blow dry their hair (do I even OWN a blow dryer? I think I do...somewhere...), and coordinate their outfit for the day all the way down to matching pocketbooks. In this movie, and in my world, that just doesn’t happen. I can manage a shower and throw on some minimal makeup. But I seem to grab the same (clean) clothes week after week because they are readily available and they are comfortable. I actually have to search for a presentable outfit to have a parent/teacher conference in!

I think the take-away from all of this is that the average Mom (working full-time, part-time, or not) doesn’t have the same life she had before kids. There was a scene in the movie where a young, good-looking messenger carrier, helped Uma Thurman’s character by schlepping her numerous bags of items she purchased for her daughter’s party, up three flights of stairs. She asked him in to her apartment to get some water for him to drink. Although absolutely nothing at all sexual happened between them, you could feel their sexual tension. And you could imagine where this would have led had Uma’s character not been a wife and a Mom. And to recapture a little bit of her former self, she put on some 90s music and danced. And the messenger carrier danced. And Uma’s character looked wild and free and unburdened by her present life! And you could tell that not only did she miss that feeling, she recognized that it was now lost. And she abruptly shut off the music and shook the hand of the messenger and bid him farewell.

There are moments in all of our lives when we say to ourselves, what happened here? What happened to ME? The fun-loving, crazy, independent me? She grew up, matured, maybe married, had children and life became a whole different experience for her. Late nights out are now replaced with television or a good book before collapsing from exhaustion. Fun loving is now replaced by how many times you watch your child go down the slide (or you go with them upon their insistence) and find your body was no longer made to go down the twisty slide! And independence has been replaced with total dependence concerning every possible thing you could imagine pertaining to your child. Again, as Maushart explains, “It’s as if we were uncomfortable with the whole notion of choice—as if the exercise of free will were a form of conspicuous consumption too embarrassing to reveal publicly. Maybe we feel deep down that real choice remains a luxury to which, by virtue of being female, we have no natural entitlement.” Very possible.

But then, when you are on your bed, frantically responding to too many overdue e-mails, your child comes in with an armful of stuffed animals, a couple almost half his size. And he throws each of them onto your bed and climbs up to snuggle right up next to you with each of the various stuffed animals. And you quietly close your laptop, put it down, and look into your child’s eyes as he tells you stories about each of his stuffed animals. It’s at that point when you remember what happened to “you.” She became a Mom. And she wouldn’t change that moment or her life back for anything. She is embracing what she now calls Motherhood!

Worried Sick -- by Cara

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about my upper respiratory illness and how it always seemed that no matter how sick we Moms are, we still put our own needs aside for the sake of our families, especially our children.
Well, this week is the reverse. Now I have recovered, however my son came down with...well, we really didn’t know what.

My son started to exhibit signs of not feeling well last Saturday night.
My night owl son, who typically falls asleep between 9:30pm - 10:00pm (genetics...not bad parenting), fell asleep at 8:30pm. That was my first clue. The ONLY time my son falls asleep before 9pm is if he is sick or becoming sick.

The next day, Sunday, my son was extremely cranky and whiny. He also didn’t look very well. He had circles under his eyes and looked extremely tired. We had a birthday party to go to that day and my son wanted to go desperately. But throughout the party, he kept coming out of the play area and would plop down next to me and rest his head on my upper arm. I felt his head...it was hot. But it could have been hot from all of the running and jumping he was doing in the party room. It was when he asked when we were going home that I suspected something was wrong. My son NEVER wants to leave a party early. We stayed until the end, but said our thank yous quickly because I really wanted to get home and take my son’s temperature.

I almost fell over when I did take it. 103.3!! I ran to get him some Motrin, but getting it into him was an even bigger challenge. He hates sweet tasting things, so he can’t stand the children’s liquid medicines.

He won’t take pills, even crushed up and put into applesauce. He didn’t want to eat anything. So we just decided to let him sleep and hoped the fever would break soon. My son’s only request was water. Lots of water.

I lined up little water bottles on the table next to his bed, and by morning they were all empty. And this was the scenario, day after day:
lots of sleep or awake and lethargic. Temps ranging from 103-104ish almost around the clock. No eating of food of any kind. Water, water, and more water. An occasional dose of Motrin when his temps were so high he was practically delirious and would take the medicine with minimal fighting. To put it mildly, we were scared out of our skins.

I have a fairly solid medical background, although I am not a physician.
I have real, professional medical books that I combed through. I went to some professional, medical web sites to look for answers. I even consulted a handy iPhone App called Pediatric Symptoms MD which walks you through determining whether your child’s symptoms need immediate attention, call the doctor in the morning symptoms, or wait a day or two and see what happens symptoms. This handy App suggested calling our Pediatrician first thing in the morning.

I was up that night practically every hour on the hour either checking on my son or hearing his weak requests for more water and running to get some for him. The next morning, we bundled our son up, and my husband carried him to the car and then into the physician’s office. Other than extremely high fevers, our son didn’t exhibit any other symptoms whatsoever, which led the doctor to diagnose him a viral fever. He assured us that the fever would break in 2-4 days. They did a rapid Strep test which turned out negative, but the doctor said he would call us the next day if the overnight test came back positive.

The rest of the day was the same...extremely high fevers, hydrating him with only water, and occasionally being successful at getting Motrin into my son.

Concerned friends were calling and e-mailing. Could it be the flu? The Swine flu? An undetected infection? Were we sure it wasn’t Strep? I called the doctor the next day and said there was absolutely no change in my son and if anything, he appeared to be getting worse and looking terribly ill. The doctor told me to bring my son in the next day for another Strep test and a blood test.

We went back the next day. Again a negative Strep test, no true indications of any type of flu. White blood cell count was NORMAL (which blew me away...how can someone’s white blood cell count possibly be normal when their body is fighting something so hard to handle? But, like I said, I’m not a physician). We left with no definitive answers and a little boy who was getting worse by the hour.

Now it was Thursday. Fevers still hadn’t broken and the time frame for a “viral fever” had expired. We called the Pediatrician again. He said if the fevers didn’t come down by the next morning, he wanted him to get a chest x-ray. Then we noticed throughout the day, the fevers dropped to the 102-103 range. We managed to get more Motrin into our son. As the day went on, the fevers dropped even more to the 101-102 range. Our son still looked absolutely awful, but he started moving around. He wanted food. Of course everything he wanted, we didn’t have in the house. My husband ran to the grocery store. Slowly, our son was starting to eat. Fevers were down again to between 99-low 100s! My son hadn’t slept or taken a nap at all that day. But he had a very full belly and his fever seemed to finally be breaking!

By 7pm that same evening, I had to tackle an enormous pile of clean laundry by folding and putting the items away in my bedroom. My son crawled under the covers of my bed and watched me. After 5 minutes, I heard heavy breathing. He had fallen asleep. I finished a little more folding then turned off the lights and let him sleep.

I went to check on him a couple hours later and found him burning hot and drenched in perspiration. His fever was finally breaking! I didn’t want to move him, so when I was ready to fall asleep, I simply crawled under the covers next to him. Throughout the night I slept lightly, feeling his forehead, which felt cooler. And he sensed my presence because he kept snuggling closer to me and even would grab my forearm and clutch it to him like his favorite stuffed animal. He even interlocked his little hand in mine, drawing it close to his body. I was half asleep but gushing with emotion! This little angel needed me, wanted me, cherished me enough that he wanted to draw himself as close to me as possible and hold on tight to whatever part of me he could. All while in a state of sleep and return from the depths of a terrible illness.

I loved sleeping with him that night. In fact, I think we may have more occasional Mommy and son sleep togethers. I know he felt safe, warm, protected, and loved. I was overflowing with love for this child, even though I didn’t sleep very soundly. But the love I did feel from him was tremendous! He is approaching an age where displaying physical affection, especially towards your Mom, can be a little embarrassing.

But feeling the true, uncensored adoration of me, while my son slept, made my heart swell one-thousand-fold!! I felt so relieved that he was finally on the mend! But most importantly, I felt just how much I really mattered to him. And I know I made him feel exactly the same way! I can’t wait for our next sleep together! I can feel my heart swell as I remember him interlocking his little hand with mine, pulling it real close, and sighing himself back to sleep. The two of us, together.

I'm Scared -- by Cara

I’m not typically the type who gets worked up over minor things. I can usually discern the big things to worry about versus the little things. And I’m definitely not one to scare easily. But I have to admit...I’m scared. Or, to put it more succinctly, terrified.

I had a mammography done last Tuesday and the next day, one of my doctors called me rambling on about something being not very common, but just get the test done as soon as possible, and I stopped him. I politely said, “I don’t know what you are referring to.” “Your mammography, of course! Haven’t they called you to get a sonogram done?” I said no one except he had called me. He told me that according to the fax he received, I have a “suspicious node” that they need to do a sonogram on and possibly a biopsy. I was like a deer stuck in headlights. I was just so stunned, I didn’t even have my head together to ask further questions. The only thing I could think of was...cancer.

My mother died of ovarian cancer when I just turned 19 years old. My son is only 6. The affects of my mother’s death have traumatized me my entire life. I don’t want my son to have to experience that. I REFUSE to allow my son to experience that. That whole night, that’s all I could think of...my mother and my son. Along with, this can’t happen. This WON’T happen. I had a tough time falling asleep that night.

The next day, even before my son left for school, I was barraged with phone calls ALL. DAY. LONG. No sooner did I hang up the phone with the radiology place, then the gynecologist called. The radiology place made me an appointment for Monday. The radiology place called back...no doctors would be in to read films on Monday but they ALL would be in on Tuesday, so they rescheduled me for Tuesday (I thought, what crazy schedule does this place have? Can’t ONE doctor at least be there on a Monday??!! Healthcare is becoming beyond ridiculous. But we’ll save that discussion for another blog). Then the nurse at the gynecologist’s office said, “You mean they let you leave without taking more films?” I explained that, again, there weren’t any doctors to read films in that day. I called several friends I know who went through the same procedure, all with benign outcomes. A couple had to have two biopsies done. My head was spinning. Because all of the medical people I spoke with were nurses or receptionists, I couldn’t get any solid information. Everyone was vague but insistent. One minute I was practically in tears, the next I was being reassured by my fabulous group of friends.

The next thing I thought of was a Health Care Proxy. I needed a new one. Everyone should have one. I called my lawyers office to have my existing one dug up and revised to have my best friend put on it as my agent. She works in the medical field, has had 3 of these types of biopsies and has two very medically savvy parents. I wanted my health care proxy changed ASAP.

Then I thought of my son...he’s so young. He needs his mother. What if this doesn’t bode well and I am in the hospital a lot? Sick from drugs? How does one even attempt to explain this to a 6 year old? He needs me. I need him. We need each other.

My next thought, to try to calm myself down, was the BRACA test I had taken a few years back. It is a genetic test to determine whether you carry the gene to predispose you for breast or ovarian cancer. It came back negative. That’s good. Really, really good.

But then there has been the ongoing, unrelenting high stress level I have been experiencing the past few years. My father’s death. My son’s learning issues. The multitude of arguments with my husband. Anyone with this type of stress would have cells mutating! Heck, my whole life has been one heavy duty stressful event after another! Cells are bound to change with all of the stress hormones that have been washing over them during all this time!

And my friends. My wonderful, incredible friends. At least a dozen of them...old and new...calling me, e-mailing me constantly to find out how I am and reassuring me that everything is going to be okay. I have a lot going for me. I never, ever had even a slightly abnormal mammogram before this. I do regular breast self exams. Heck, I had an appointment with my gynecologist the week before and she didn’t feel anything suspicious when she did her breast exam at that visit.

So, I decided I had to pull myself together and remain as calm as possible. I can’t control fate, I can only control how I deal with it. If it were dire, I’m sure they would have either fit me in for a sonogram that first day or just plain sent me to the hospital to get it done.

So now I wait. And I pray. And I shoveled 14 inches of snow today off my porches, stairs, and walkways, thinking, “Maybe the exercise will be good for me mentally and physically.” And I vowed to do more regular exercise to at least temper the stress hormones. The endorphins can only help me. So shovel I did. And I will go to the gym or find more ways to fit in exercise into my ragged days.

By the time this is posted, I will know my results. Or at least know more than I know right now and have a better idea of what I am facing. Good or bad, I’m making changes. Big changes. And although I have every reason to believe that the outcome will be benign, I’ll be prepared for anything. I’m a fighter. I’m tenacious. And nothing is taking me away from my little boy right now. No way, no how. That’s just how it’s going to have to be,“suspicious node” or not. Nothing is coming between my son and me. Absolutely nothing.

When Mommy is Sick -- by Cara

I had a terrible upper respiratory infection this past week that required antibiotics, fluids and rest. The antibiotics were simple, the fluids were the only soothing thing I could consume since I had a terrible sore throat and laryngitis, but the REST...Ahh where does the rest come into play?

I happened to be somewhat lucky that this illness came about during winter recess because we sent our son to a wonderful place each day where they have indoor swimming and a different theme for each day, along with the option of a hot lunch. I was so sick this week that I dragged my wretched body out of bed each morning, fed my son breakfast, supervised his morning routine of dressing, brushing teeth, etc, and then literally collapsed from exhaustion as my husband took our son to this “Winter Camp.”

I got to thinking how, as mothers, we always put everyone elses needs before our own, so many times, whether we are sick or not sick. And I very well could have let my husband take care of everything for my son since he was home. But that “Mommy Guilt” is what propelled me out of my bed. And it is what propelled me out of bed to make dinner for my son, even though I was shaking and shivering so much, I had to put on a hat and coat just to make my son something simple to eat when he came home from “camp” each day this week.

I guess it would be a little easier if my parents were both alive and young enough to help out in a pinch. Or if I had siblings who were willing to pitch in and help. But because I have literally no one, everything falls on me, sick or well. And let me tell you, it does take it’s toll. Especially when you are in your mid-forties with still a “youngish” child.

I am reading a very insightful, intellectual book called, The Mask of Motherhood,” by Susan Maushart, and in it she states, “One thing is certain: that we will never attain the goal of living comfortably with our choices as mothers until we acknowledge that we HAVE choices and, even more importantly, that we deserve to have them.” CHOOSING to yank myself out of bed when I am cold and shaking was driven by my guilt of not being a “Good Mom” and making my son a home cooked meal. What I SHOULD have done was stay in bed, called my husband, and asked him to bring home pizza for dinner. The family would still have gotten fed, but I would have been in bed resting, where I belonged.

When you have a toddler, or young child who goes to daycare, they are constantly sick and YOU are constantly sick. That’s just how it is. You just hope and pray the cold and flu season passes as quickly as possible and try to do what you can to meet both of your needs as best you can. But this drive to fulfill your child’s need before your own seems to become ingrained in you even from their birth. And even when they get to an age where they can get themselves dressed in the morning and brush their own teeth, as Moms we STILL want to be involved, even if from the sidelines.

I would do anything for my child, as most mothers would, but, as Susan Maushart continues, “Women who diminish their own needs ‘for the sake of the family,’ by whatever means and however sterling their motives, are living a lie. For if families do not begin with mothers, where DO they begin?” And especially if these mothers are “out of commission” by whatever means, does that imply that the family just falls apart?

I think as moms, especially us “Later” moms, we desperately need to tend to ourselves just as much, if not more than our families. We are doing a disservice to our loved ones by forcing ourselves to get out of our sick beds, purely out of guilt! A well, rested, cared for Mom is by far a better mom to everyone. Her children will benefit, her family will benefit, but most importantly, SHE will benefit. Because a happy, nourished Mom, really IS the best kind of Mom!

Snow Days -- by Cara

When I was a little girl, I can remember dancing with joy when the radio announced that our school district would be closed due to a snow storm! My first chore was always to help my Dad shovel the driveway. But once that was cleared, I was allowed to play out in the snow to my heart’s content!

We lived 3 houses away from a golf course, so many children in the area would gather their sleds and in my case, a toboggan, and set off to go sledding down the hills of this exciting “snow course!” Even as an only child, I had a blast, and would often run into other classmates who lived close by! What wonderful memories!

Other times, I would make a snow man and decorate him with one of my old hats, a scarf, and mittens! My mother would provide me with a carrot for a nose and black buttons for eyes, nose and mouth! Cars would actually slow down to observe my work in progress! I adored playing in the snow! And my mother always had a warm mug of hot chocolate with mini marshmallows waiting for me once my excursions in the snow were done for the day! Ahh, the days of childhood!

Now, thirty-five plus years later, I’m not as fond of being outside in the cold as I used to. My son does, though, which is to be expected of a six year old boy! With every significant snow storm (in this case, another East Coast blizzard!), my son can’t wait to get outside to make snowmen!! And because it does bring back those fond memories of my youth, I usually get bundled up with my son, and we set out to make our snowman! The snow this blizzard brought happened to bring perfect snowman making snow - a little wet, but still fluffy!

To my amazement, my son made quite a magnificent base for this snowman! I then showed him how to roll a snowball in the fresh snow to make a medium size middle for the snowman and then a smaller size for the head! But instead of the usual hat, scarf and mittens, my son wanted his snowman to be “cool”. He named the snowman, “Snommie,” and put a bandana, sunglasses, and a cool scarf on “Snommie.” I guess snowmen have come a long way since I was a child!
Then he found two large branches for arms and used small rocks for “Snowmmie’s” mouth. My creative child proved his creativeness!!

As for the sledding, my husband took my son to a local park with hills to sled down the next day in his 4-wheel drive vehicle. Because I had my fill of snow and cold, I didn’t join them for the sledding fun. But I did make myself a large mug of delicious hot chocolate with mini marshmallows. Just the way my mother used to make it! It almost made me want to run outside and make “snow angels!”

Conscience Talking -- by Cara

My blog today is somewhat of an addendum to Robin’s blog from last Friday. In summary (for those who may have missed it), Robin had guests over her house, including a slightly younger boy of one of her friends. Not only did Robin’s son and her friend’s little boy run amok, they locked the adults in Robin’s newly finished basement...twice! Then the lock had to be removed from the door.

Robin posed a question to all of us Moms: When does your child realize right from wrong and if they know they are doing something wrong, when and how do you teach them to do what is right?

I decided to bring this up in today’s blog because shortly after I read Robin’s blog, I was in the kitchen with my son, making dinner, and my son was watching one of those Disney shows geared more towards the teenage crowd. But what caught both of our attention was that one of the “cool” characters evidently did not do something very nice to one of his friends, so the “cool” character’s “nerdy” friend took upon the role of “cool kid’s” conscience.

Because this was the theme of the show, and the word “conscience” was used very frequently, my son asked, “Mommy? What IS conscience?” This was a perfect opportunity to at least instill a grain of what Robin was looking to do with her own son. I waited until a commercial came on, turned the television off, and sat down with my son to try to explain what “conscience” was. I asked, “Have you ever been on the playground or playing with friends and all of a sudden one kid starts calling another kid names?” And he nodded yes. So I continued, “And I’m sure it made you feel confused inside because you didn’t want to be the only one NOT calling the kid names.” And he nodded his head. But because I know what a good person you are, when you actually did call the kid names, it didn’t make you feel very good about yourself...am I right?” And he said, “Yes.” So I explained, that is what “conscience” is. When you do or say something that you know deep down inside isn’t right. But sometimes you end up doing it anyway so that you don’t get picked on either. You end up feeling not so good about yourself. That’s what conscience is...realizing what is good and not good and trying to choose to do what is good because it will make you feel much prouder inside! You will know you chose the right thing to do! And there will be times when you know you should do the right thing, but the feeling to choose the wrong thing will be so strong that you will have a hard time NOT doing it. Then you will not feel good and proud inside. That feeling is called guilt. And guilt helps us to make the right choice the next time even though we made a wrong choice this time.”

Because in the show, the “nerdy” friend was portrayed as the “cool kid’s” conscience, my son asked, “So I have to pick a friend to be my conscience?” And I smiled and said, “No honey, the TV show is using friends as a way to show the “cool kid” how he really should be behaving. Can you see how the “cool kid” is having a hard time trying to decide if he should do the right thing or not? His “conscience” friend is really a friend we all have in our minds...in our heads. Conscience is not outside you, it is inside you and it helps to make you think about what you do before you do it. It helps you decide to do what is good so that it makes you feel good.” My son seemed to at least grasp that conscience was something in your head that controlled “good” and “bad” behavior.

Now, do I think that most of this explanation will have blown by my son like the wind? Of course. But he was asking appropriate questions, so SOME of my dissertation must have stuck with him. And he will remember at least a fraction of our conversation of “right versus wrong.” And knowing my son, out of the blue, he will remember bits and pieces of our conversation and will want me to explain again. And I will be more than willing to do so. I opened up a dialog that I hope will be ongoing. I’m certain that my son will at least REMEMBER that we had SOME kind of conversation when he is faced with a right versus wrong situation. And I would hope that he would come to me and share what happened to discuss whether he chose the correct behavior. And if he is too wracked with guilt over something he did that he REALLY regrets, I hope he comes to me so that I can explain to him that he is feeling very guilty, very sorry about what he did, and also discuss how we can make the situation right again. And that maybe next time, he should be listening a little more closely to his “conscience”.

A Boy and His Dogs -- by Cara

My son loves animals. All animals. Well, except for spiders. But I can’t blame him for that. He especially loves our two dogs. He bonded with our female, Lama, instantly, as she did him, from the day we brought my son home from the hospital for the very first time. And no matter the age, Lama was by his side, almost vying to take care of him. We were told by trainers that even though she is spayed, her maternal instinct could possibly kick in. And boy, did it ever! She treated him just as she would her own puppy and let him do anything...and I do mean ANYTHING to her! When we were teaching him how to brush his teeth, he had to use his own toothbrushes to brush hers (we eventually bought each of them their own!). He would ride her, roll on her, stack cups on her ears, pull her whiskers (“I’m counting them,” he would say). Still, she let him do whatever he wanted to do to her...and still does. Except that now she is close to 15. And is in as excellent health as a 15 year old dog could be! But she sleeps a lot. And she is slowing down. And what a 6 year old boy needs, is a more playful dog. Enter our male dog, Max.

Max was my “baby” 5 years before Brandon came along. Although highly trained and deciplined, Max resented all of the time I had to spend with Brandon when he was young. So poor Max would go off by himself whenever I was busy with baby Brandon. And I tried to give as much attention and affection as I could to Max. But still, it was nowhere near the attachment we had before Brandon was born.

Years went by. Max remained aloof towards Brandon as Brandon grew. But Brandon would try to interact with Max. Max just wasn’t interested. Until now.

I think Brandon realizes that although Lama is spry when she wants to be, she can’t be treated the way Brandon used to treat her. We constantly remind him that he is too big to ride her or put all of his body weight on her. We remind him that she is sleeping and to try to let her rest. You can tell, he wants his dog who had more vigor back.

Now the dynamics are changing. Max has realized that Brandon is staying for good. And although he is not a young dog himself at 11 years old, he has much more pep to him than Lama. So Brandon is again trying to befriend Max and I am happy to see that Max is reciprocating! I am teaching Brandon how to have Max give him his paw on request. I am also showing Brandon through hand signals how to have Max sit, wait or lie down. Brandon thinks he is performing magic! Max just wants to get a treat! But the most important thing is that they are bonding. Bonding in a way I really never thought would ever happen due to Max’s adoration of me. But our relationships are changing. Max goes onto Brandon’s bed to make a “nest,” which Brandon loves. Then Brandon carefully covers him and gives him a stuffed animal to sleep with. I am so proud of both my “boys!”

A rough-and-tumble boy like Brandon needs a rough-and-tumble dog! And although Max is too old to do tricks like he used to or go to agility races, he has enough “spunk” left in him to give Brandon the “boy-dog” interaction Brandon craves! And Brandon is learning not only how to play with Max, he is also learning to be more compassionate to his real “love,” Lama. He still pets her, but more gently. He wants to help feed her. He makes sure she has a blanket and a stuffed animal to sleep with, too. It is sweet to watch him take care of her the way she took care of him. And it is rewarding to know that Brandon still has a “playmate” with Max. I wish both dogs were a bit younger, but I am grateful that both dogs are in terrific health for both their ages! Especially for a boy and his dogs!

Hugs, Cuddles and Eskimo Kisses -- by Cara

In my last blog entry, I discussed how I took a little “vacation” from being a full-time Mom and how my husband wanted to take over running the house, working full-time from home, and taking care of our son and one of our dogs. I must give him a lot of credit. He took on a huge responsibility...one that I certainly don’t think I would want to voluntarily assume! And he is even still loading the dishwasher and emptying it!!

But although I give my husband kudos for doing such an incredible job, I discovered something even more wonderful. The incredible love I have for my son.

When you get caught up in the minutia of daily living with packing lunches for school and making sure the dog got her medication and racing to the grocery store to pick up some desperately needed essentials, you sometimes take your family for granted and don’t show them or tell them how much they really mean to you. Because every day is “beat the clock” day, we overlook how important it is to stop and spend time - REAL, focused time - on our children.

I read a very good book a year or so back that stated that every child has an “emotional tank.” Similar to a gas tank in a car. This author wrote that if you let your car get depleted of gas, it won’t be able to function. He said that it was the same with children. If you don’t fulfill their “emotional tanks,” they, too, won’t be able to function and may become depressed, act out or engage in unhealthy behaviors. But the author assured the readers that if you kept your child’s emotional tank full, as much as possible, they would be happy, secure, self-confident kids!

I often refer back to that description when I notice my son acting out or going out of his way to seek attention. So when I returned home (and found that the dishes had been all put away!), I spent a lot of time with my son just hanging out, reading books, and playing games. He would sometimes cuddle into me almost as if he were trying to resume his place in my womb...all warm, safe, and cozy. We had tickle “fights” and lots of hugs! We had fun kissing each other and then kissing the dog to see who the dog would try to lick back first! And we did a lot of Eskimo kissing (rubbing noses back and forth)! I truly have never enjoyed myself more than I have this past week!! My son’s emotional tank must certainly be overflowing! But my emotional tank is overflowing too! It feels so good to be loved unconditionally, in a reciprocal relationship. And I am going to try to keep both my son’s and my emotional tanks filled as much as they can be, as often as possible!

The laundry can wait to be folded. The dog can get her medicine a half hour later than usual. And the dishes almost seem like they are washing themselves lately! But a child needs constant love and affection. And from now on, my son is going to get that unconditional love from me every day. With an Eskimo kiss as he goes off to school and some cuddles and hugs before he goes to bed. He knows that I love him. And I’m going to keep showing him how much, every single day!

Vacation from Motherhood -- by Cara

My husband and I decided, after much debate, that he could handle taking care of the house, our dog, our rambunctious son, work from home...and do it all really well, all by himself. I said to him, well, millions of Moms do it everyday, why don’t you try it if you want. And he really wanted to. So I said, “Go for it!”

So off I went to stay at a vacant home of a friend I know of, with my dog as my companion, and left him to his desire. The first call came not an hour later, “What are these weird dishwashing cubes and how do you use them?” I told him that they were a new type of dissolving dishwashing soap and to read the back of the package for instructions about how to use them.

Then the first day passed, and I received a call about my son running out of underwear. I decided to pack up my laundry and trudge over to do a load or two because A: I know it took ME, who reads manuals, almost two weeks to fully understand how to use this high-tech, front-loading machine, and B: The last time my husband did laundry, all of the whites turned pink and some of the other clothes looked poorly tie-dyed. So I offered to take care of the laundry.

Then I found out that the fish hadn’t been fed in days! The poor things were staring at me and then looking up at the top of their tanks for some food!! I quickly gave them some food, then wrote a note in bold letters, “FEED FISH EACH DAY!!” My son could easily do that.

The next day there were questions about what to pack for lunch and how do you keep some items cold (umm...an ice pack??)? What does my husband do with school notices (Hmm...read them??), what does he do with the book ordering form (go over it with our son to see if he would like a book or two??). This went on for a few days. At least he remembered to feed the dog!! (I did have to remind my husband to give her daily medication, though.)

To my delight and amazement, after several days, my husband had gotten into the swing of things and I’ve caught up on a lot of work that had been accumulating and have been completing long overdue continuing education credits.

I must also say, living alone for now is giving me time to reorganize my life; embark on activities I had long put aside, and give me a huge breather from the stressful, hectic pace of everyday life! The only other being I need to care for is my dog. And he sleeps most of the time!

This experiment has also given me a window into what my life used to be like, when I was single or what life would be like now if I hadn’t married or had a child. It’s very intriguing. I try to see my son every day, so I’m not completely removed from motherhood. But I am removed from the daily trials and tribulations. On the contrary, I also miss seeing my son do his math homework in the blink of an eye! Or sharing with me that the reason we stand is because of gravity! I know this way of living won’t be forever, but it sure sheds some light on what my life could have been versus what it actually is. They both have their advantages. For now, though, I am enjoying my little “vacation.” Reality is eagerly waiting right around the corner. And the big question? Will my husband still run and empty the dishwasher once I’m back, now that he knows how to use those “little dishwashing cubes”??

Some Things Never Change -- by Cara

When I read Jamie’s blog a couple days ago, I was taken back to the days when my son would fight going to sleep any chance he’d get. Back in the days of toddlerhood, nothing, and I mean practically nothing would cajole this boy to sleep. To make matters worse, he was a vomiter, so we couldn’t just let him cry for very long because my husband and I would be cleaning up from his display of irritation.

He also didn’t sleep through the night until he was almost 3. He’d wake up for water or just want to know someone was around, and I took over the “night shift.” Almost 3 years of non-consecutive sleep. To this day, I don’t know how I did it.

Actually I do know how I managed to catch up on my sleep. We signed him up for full-day Daycare. He had energy to burn at the Daycare and I would spend my day taking naps, which I continue to do now, years later.

I don’t know what kind of magic sleeping dust this Daycare sprinkled over my son, but they got him to take naps. During the week. And only during the week. On the weekends when we knew our son was tired, we would lay down in his room and try to get him to sleep, thinking if he saw us going to sleep, he would follow suit. Didn’t happen. We even invested in a thick exercise mat that either my husband or I would lie down on with him, trying to get him to sleep. That didn’t work either. He would end up climbing all over us, finding things to do. It could take up to and sometimes more than 2 hours to try to get this child to sleep!

I read every book available on how to get your child to sleep, tried every technique. I even called one author to see if I could make an appointment with her and pay $250 to have her help me get my son to sleep! Alas, she was booked 8 months ahead. I had to find a way on my own.

We eventually resorted to taking him on errands on the weekend and while he slept in the car, either my husband or I would sit in the car with him and just close our eyes.

My son is now 6. He rarely falls asleep before 10 pm and if he does, it is usually a clue that an illness is brewing. And he wakes up around 6 am. He is a true 8 hour sleeper, which means that I continue to be chronically sleep deprived because I always wait until he is asleep before I go to sleep. And I usually have at least a half hour of things that need to be done before I settle into the covers.

So, although he is growing and maturing every day, he remains the 8 hour sleeper. And I remain the chronic napper. I am so jealous of Moms who say, “Oh, it’s 7 pm...we have to get home so that Kevin can get his bath and be in bed by 8.” I laugh to myself, thinking, you don’t realize how wonderful it is that your child goes to sleep so early! But in my home, it just will never be.

What age do kids typically go away to sleep-away camp??

Ringing in Change for the New Year -- by Cara

Change. It is just a simple, six letter word. But for some, it can bring on anxiety, while for others, it can evoke excitement and promise of good things to come!

I am hoping for the latter in the New Year. Not only a new year, a new decade! Ripe with opportunity to illicit change and hopefully reap the positive that flows along with it!

In Robin’s last blog, she spoke of change through getting rid of things she really didn’t need anymore; Her pig collection. Or at least a fair part of this collection. And in her blog, she spoke of change. How by “purging” part of her collection, it also freed her to open up to other things. (A cow collection, possibly?)

This past year has been an awful year for my family. My husband, my son, me, even one of our dogs, have all been diagnosed with lifelong medical problems. It is hard enough when one member of a family has to cope with the realization that they have to learn to adapt to a chronic medical condition. Imagine an entire family! And their dog!

It’s been a long, difficult year. But we made it through. Now I want change. Change for the better. I want us all to move past the anger and the grief to acceptance. And from there, I want to move forward to living our lives as happily and as productively as we each can!

Medical condition or not, I have my own plans for the new year! I want to become more involved in a business venture! I would like to do more writing, maybe take a class or two! I want to become more involved in my son’s school! Possibly volunteer as a Class Mom! (Well, okay...maybe not THAT involved! At least not yet!).

Like Robin, I, too, am ringing in change through getting rid of, contributing to charity, offering to others, things that are no longer necessary in my life. Clutter leads to chaos which leads to disharmony. I have clutter. Too much clutter. In just about every corner in my home and facet in my mind. All of it is going to be slowly dispersed with the anticipation that more harmony will ensue.

And when I found out that Robin didn’t sell, but simply gave away her pig collection, that inspired me to want to be more altruistic as well! I also want to feel my heart swell by donating items to others that I no longer have any use for! I recently gave away two iPods that my husband and I no longer used. We gave them away to friends. I was thrilled that the recipients were tremendously happy! My heart did swell! But I was also glad that, like Robin’s pigs, the iPods were going to good homes. Going to people who really wanted them and would use them and get enjoyment out of them and maybe make THEIR new year a little happier! Having two iPods sitting in a drawer was unnecessary. They, along with a lot of other items in our home, need to go elsewhere.

So, as the saying goes, change can be good! Really good! And I am looking forward to seeing that ball drop tomorrow, and cry out, “Happy New Year!!” I know my year is going to change for the better! My wish is the same for you! I wish all our members and readers a VERY Happy New Year!!

Interfaith Traditions -- by Cara

This is always an interesting time of year for our family. And a lot of work for me! See, my husband is Jewish, I am not, but we are raising our son to be Jewish. All of this is fine except for one major thing. My son is in love with everything Christmas, especially Santa Claus!

It all started when my father was still alive and my son was 2 and 3 years old. Since my father didn’t have the stamina to put up his own Christmas tree each year, as he became elderly, we would put one up in our home while he watched us decorate it. And my Mother-in-Law never wanted my father’s holiday to be forgotten, so she would cook a big Christmas dinner for all of us.

My son, even at this young age, took all of this in. Besides the fact that there are Christmas displays everywhere you look this time of year. And Christmas cartoons, movies, and songs just about everywhere. My son became completely enamored with the mystery of Christmas.

Every year, I try to instill both the religious meaning and tradition of Hanukkah in him. But it never seems to trump Santa. “Eight crazy nights!,” I exclaim! “Eight nights of gifts!” The lighting of the candles on the beautiful Menorah he made at religious school! Still, he wants to know when Santa is coming. “How many more days, Mommy?,” he’ll ask.

My father is no longer with us, but the tradition of putting up a tree and decorating it still remain. My son moved all of the items away from the fireplace so that Santa can have easy access into our home. I am wondering how many more years he will still be believing in Santa Claus? I was certain that once he started religious school, the mystery of Santa and his reindeer would be exposed. Didn’t happen. He goes to school with predominantly Jewish children and has mostly Jewish friends. But he cannot be swayed. I’ve brought him to Tot Shabbat services, Hanukkah lightings at our Temple, festivities celebrating Hanukkah! Still, he wants to hold on to the belief of Santa.

So, as we do every year, I put up the Hanukkah decorations first. Read him books about celebrating Hanukkah, make Hanukkah crafts and play “Spin the Dreidel” with him. We watch my Mother-in-Law make potato Latkes. We put on Jewish music celebrating Hanukkah. Still, it all doesn’t matter. He anxiously awaits the man in the red suit and the white beard.

I must admit, preparing for two different winter holidays is not easy. Hanukkah is a little easier, but dragging an artificial tree up from the basement, putting it together, decorating it, making cookies for Santa and wrapping presents for BOTH holidays is a chore. I’m secretly hoping that my son comes to the realization that there really isn’t a Santa Claus. My work load would certainly diminish.

But I’m not going to be the one to squelch my son’s fantasy. It will come naturally on it’s own. Then maybe we can all focus on one holiday, light candles, eat latkes, sing songs and be united in the tradition of Hanukkah. In the meantime, I really wish my son didn’t have to announce to his religion teacher what Santa would be bringing him this year!

Hotel Snob -- by Cara

Back in the days before I had my son, I used to have the flexibility to take several trips a year with my husband, all over the country. For my husband, they were all work trips. But for me, they were more than just “getaways.” For me they were trips where I could do what I wanted, when I wanted and how I wanted! Little mini vacations!

My recent “Mommy Retreat” reminded me of those times. But I found that the most interesting part of my stay was the hotel which was quite intriguing. I’ve been wracking my brain to better describe this hotel, but the best description I could conjure up is a “very upscale Days Inn.” Not that there’s anything wrong with a Days Inn. Some of them are really lovely. But I digress.

I used to be completely enamored with the Hiltons and Mariotts we stayed in! From there it was the Chateau Marmount and Century Plaza (oh, how I adored the Century Plaza!). I’ve even stayed at the Plaza Hotel (before it went Co-op), and I must say, I was completely unimpressed. We also stayed at the Four Seasons! Now that was a treat!

One day, my husband had a reservation to stay at a certain hotel, and had the paperwork to prove it, but the hotel had no information on us in their computer system. And they were completely sold out. Well, my husband, being the eternally persistent person that he is, asked the manager to find us a room, even if it meant that we would have to stay at a different hotel. The manager came back with the news that we would have to stay at a different hotel next-door...The Ritz-Carlton!! They apologized for giving us their “standard” room...which included a marble, jacuzzi bath tub, entirely marble bathroom, the most amazing 300 count sheets and duvet cover...all I could say to my husband was, “If you are looking for me, I’ll be in this room...forever.”

I read a note in the room that said I could have a complementary, scented, hand made soap. I called room service and they brought a basket of 5 different scented soaps along with a loofah back scrubber and a sea sponge!! When I went to pick out a soap, the kind gentleman said to me, “Oh, Madam, this whole basket is for you to enjoy!.” I was speechless. The hotel also sent up complementary wine and chocolate covered strawberries as an apology for making the mistake in hotels! Just staying in this one room absolutely took my breathe away, and it was then that I became what I term “The Hotel Snob.” Nothing, no other hotel experience could even come close to staying at the Ritz-Carlton!

Now I am no longer able to go with my husband on his trips since we had our son. So I always make a small request of him when he goes away: Please bring back some soap, shampoo, conditioner and lotion amenities! He always does. And it connects me a little bit to my former Hotel Snob days. Just recently my husband came back with amenities from the L’Occitane company...I was thoroughly jealous. If he brings back a “no name” brand, I pack it away to give to others in need.

Back to my “upscale Days Inn”...the rooms (suites!) were enormous with a bedroom section separated by a bathroom and kitchen area, and a huge sitting area! They also had “pod” coffee makers and a microwave and fridge. What made all of this odd is that there were rooms on the ground floor ( I had a view of the back parking lot through my bedroom window) and people constantly walking by my front window, so I had to be fully dressed before any curtains could be opened. There were also no Bell Hops, no Concierge; I had to wheel my luggage, Days Inn style, to this pretty magnificent room. I understand that in order to have such large rooms, economical corners need to be cut wherever possible, but this whole experience at this hotel was odd. Even to get to the meeting rooms, you had to walk directly through the formal (or should I say “only”) dining room, while guests were eating. Someone even brought their two, prize-winning Basset Hounds who I heard howling each morning on my way to get coffee! Strange, very strange indeed. I will say that the staff in all areas was exemplary. But maybe I’ll request a third floor room should I ever visit this hotel again. I may have humbled, but that little Hotel Snob is dying to get out...just one more time.