Y Community? -- By Laura Houston

When I moved to New York City from a small farm in Oregon, I naturally felt out of place. It was a tough adjustment being a new mom in a strange, crowded, loud city without my network of friends around me – friends who would come over in an instant if I needed help or a break. As I elbowed my way into a new social network in Manhattan, many neighbors, mothers, and friends suggested joining a family gym. But as a rule, I hate gyms. My workouts in the Northwest centered on gardening, hiking, kayaking, and running. I like the outdoors. I like all kinds of weather. I like hard work. In Oregon, I easily found communities of people who felt the same way and enjoyed the same things, and I bonded with people naturally out of mutual interest.

I am the sort of person who makes friends easily under most circumstances, and thanks to groups like Motherhood Later Than Sooner and Upper West Side Moms, I’ve met some great women. We gather on playgrounds. We have coffee after playschool. We share sitters, housekeepers, doctors, and lawyers. But regardless of our network of resources and information, a group of mothers is not always enough to call a community. After all, as mothers of young children we are pretty frazzled. We can’t often reach out and offer support to one another because we are barely making it ourselves. It’s hard to create a kinship of reliable support just due to the logistics of the city alone.

So how does one go about creating a community for the family? Churches, mosques, temples and synagogues are a good start, but if you don’t practice those religions, you’re out of luck. Plus, I want a more diverse community. I like to meet and get to know all kinds of people going through all kinds of situations. But they have to have some things in common: they want to be healthy, they have interests, and they want to form relationships with other people.

That’s difficult to do on a small island where there are more than 71,000 people per square mile. It’s ironic with all these people crowded together that so many mothers admit to feeling lonely and isolated. And mothers have a particularly hard time in New York – especially if they are stay-at-home moms who are raising the kids themselves – sans full-time nannies.

Last week I met a woman named La-Vena Francis. She was a single, teen-age mother living in Brooklyn, and she was determined to do the right thing for her child while trying to find community for herself. When her son was six-years old, he began showing signs of childhood obesity, and she could not to let that happen. She knew her son loved the water, and she knew she wanted him to be safe, so she joined the YMCA and signed him up for swim lessons.

“That’s how I became connected,” La-Vena told me, “I became connected with the community the Y had to offer, with my son, and with myself because I started taking classes, too.”

Two birds. One stone.

When La-Vena first moved to this country as a little girl, she did not live in a safe neighborhood. There weren’t many places she could play without fear. She said the Flatbush YMCA was a refuge, so that’s where she went after school to take gymnastics. Then, as a teenage mom, she returned with her son, introducing him to health and wellness, to male mentors, and to a community that would help her help him.

Twelve years later La-Vena’s son is 18-years old, attends college, and teaches swimming lessons at a YMCA. And La-Vena now works at the North Brooklyn YMCA as a director. She also met her husband there, and now her two youngest kids attend for daycare, classes, and fun.

There are many stories I’ve heard from mothers, especially single mothers, about the kinship, the solace, and the support they discovered at their local gym. The YMCA organization itself is an anthology of hope, help and health from members of its community. It offers more than just fitness classes, and it has free babysitting in their child watch program, so mothers can workout, get a break from the kids, and perhaps have a conversation with an adult that lasts more than four sentences.

As hard as I have tried in New York to create my own community, I might have to borrow someone’s for a while and see if I can fit in. I believe I need to take some pottery classes, some yoga classes, and maybe get over my distaste for public swimming pools, and gym locker rooms while I’m at it. My life has changed not only as a mother who is living in a new city, but now I find I am becoming a different kind of person who has to find new interests in a city where I can’t plant a garden, and in a life where there is little time for solace. I’m also no longer as fit as I used to be. There are times when I can’t seem to keep up. So it’s time to buck up and join up. And see where this inspired community leads me.

A Community of Women by Cyma Shapiro

I was struck by a conversation I recently had with an acquaintance about her extraordinarily large women’s group. She explained that while this metropolitan group has approximately 700 members, only 100 or so women are considered “active.”  Of those, the numbers decline as the ‘camps’ become set – that is, women over or under 35 or 40; women who work; women who are stay-at-home mothers; women with special needs children – the list is endless. For her, the end result is a core group of six to seven like-minded women with whom she has bonded. The conversation resonated with me; I’ve also just found my community – Midlife Mothers – in fact, I’d even say it’s “All Mothers,” and I’ve found many of them with or on the Internet. I would like to share my thoughts about this -  

According to Wikipedia:

In biological terms, a community is a group of interacting organisms sharing a populated environment. In human communities, intent, belief, resources, preferences, needs, risks, and a number of other conditions may be present and common, affecting the identity of the participants and their degree of cohesiveness.

In sociology, the concept of community has led to significant debate, and sociologists are yet to reach agreement on a definition of the term. There were ninety-four discrete definitions of the term by the mid-1950s.^[1] Traditionally a "community" has been defined as a group of interacting people living in a common location. The word is often used to refer to a group that is organized around common values and is attributed with social cohesion within a shared geographical location, generally in social units larger than a household. 

The word "community" is derived from the Old French communité which is derived from the Latin communitas (cum, "with/together" + munus, "gift"), a broad term for fellowship or organized society.^[2]

Since the advent of the Internet, the concept of community no longer has geographical limitations, as people can now virtually gather in an online community and share common interests regardless of physical location.

This brings me to my second thought – the Web.  On first glance, the first dozen Mommy-related sites read like this: workitmoms; mothersclick, connectedmoms, mothersnature, nurturemoms, nourishedmother, mommythink, wholemotheringcenter. Other sites like Pjmommy, mothersbeheard, MotherhoodLaterThanSooner, cafemom, and Christian-mommies.com further specialize in their arenas.  Add it up and you get a whopping hundreds, perhaps thousands of Mommy and women-related sites.

A writer once penned, “Diamonds may be a girl's best friend, but the Internet is a BFF (Best Friend Forever) to women navigating motherhood for the first time.” I believe this is true. While our foremothers were isolated in their endeavors and relegated to their families or local communities, women with computers can find unlimited ways to connect with other women, all from the security and comfort of their own homes. 

Now, any woman can find solace and support with innumerable numbers of sites offering advice, a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen.  And it’s all for free. Seeking a new playgroup? You can easily find it online. Need items for sale or support groups, it’s now one click away. The end result is a breathtaking array of available options. But, let’s not forget our topic: the community of women.

Today, given this colossal beast - the Internet - no one need ever feel alone or isolated – there’s something and someone for everyone. And, I think that’s what I’m really feeling: I, too, am no longer isolated – as a mom, as a midlife mom, as a woman, and, yes, as a partner in a marriage. Today, I truly feel my place, my purpose and my desires. And, I owe some of it to my time on the Internet. So, to those of you still feeling out of sorts, we say, “Join us here at Motherhood Later,” or anywhere else that suits you. We can be found in every conceivable community across the world, and we’re waiting for you.

Any Woman’s Holiday by Cyma Shapiro

I am Jewish. I will tell you a little story about our switching Jewish ‘houses,’ recently, all centered around our Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.  However, I don’t think the religion or holiday even matters, here. I think it’s all about perception, reality, and the personal business of finding a home for one’s religion and spirituality.

We are Reform Jews. As such, we are ‘granted’ a relaxation of Jewish social norms and customs, religious practices and requirements.  In short, nearly anyone who is a Reform Jew can find some synagogue, somewhere, and some rabbi, who allows the practice of ___________.  Fill in the blank yourself.  If it is not harmful to someone, blasphemous, detrimental to one’s health or against the law, I think you can find someone in the Reform movement who might ok the behavior.

We belonged to a Reform synagogue.  It was comfortable, secure, and offered ease of dress, thought and worship practices.  We could attend services, have our children attend Sunday school, and then return back home and call it a day.  (In our case, we embraced additional practices during the week).

We were, however, alone.  When we stepped back, we realized that nearly no one associated with anyone else in the synagogue; there was little commonality among members; and almost no religious groups to join.  It was safe, comfortable and required little commitment .  But, it was not enough for us.

We began the arduous search for a new ‘home’ – one that offered safety, security, ease of dress, and community.  It was the community part that had been missing. Studying the many choices in our area, we decided to opt for a Conservative temple – more religious, more spiritual some might argue; and with many, many more requirements, both for ourselves and our children.  How could we do this? Land somewhere on one day, and land somewhere else with heightened rules, and much greater expectations and practices, the next?

We were truly scared. The practice of moving houses of worship was more traumatic than we expected; no longer were we simply finding a new house to hang our hats, or in our case, our yarmulkes.  We were seeking something that would help us reformulate our family and prioritize our religious needs. Already struggling with my Jewishness, I came with what they call “baggage” – years of indoctrinations, expectations and mismatches which I hadn’t fully reconciled. My husband had his own tsuris (Yiddish, meaning troubles) and my kids just didn’t want to attend Sunday School.  What would we do with all of those issues?

On the first day of attendance, we looked around us quickly, and began the (much longer) worship service. We spent the whole time looking around at what others were doing; others were wearing; and others were reciting. Only in this case, no one was looking at us which was a good thing. Everyone was immersed in their own practice(s), their own thoughts, their own prayers. We left, heartened that we seemed not to stick out like a sore thumb, and weren’t the worse for the experience, either.

Within two weeks, we were invited to a family-related party;  introduced to many other members; and within the shortest period of time, were made to feel ‘at home.’  When the holidays came and I surveyed the scene of women with their families, my long-held biases regarding dress, look and philosophies dropped swiftly away as I realized that we were all just women/mothers doing our job. Our children were trying to learn their religion; our families just trying to be good, perhaps righteous, religious and whole.

This experience has been ground-breaking.  It mimics my experience with new mothers. Slowly, the ‘new older mother’ moniker has slipped away in favor of just ‘motherhood,’ and I see that my desires reflect the desires of so many other women to just promulgate families and family unification, step into our own womanhood, and love and be love. It’s really that simple.

And so, at the beginning of the Jewish New Year, I welcome all of you to reflect on your current situation in life, and find some kernel of truth in my story which could also be yours.  For me,  it’s the story of coming of age. I hope you find new growth, with me.

Tired, cranky, and HOT - by Liimu

Someone told me that we had over 40 days above 90 degrees this summer. Last summer, we had TWO. Not sure what is going on, but I do have a theory. We got slammed with the worst winter I have certainly seen in my lifetime this past year, and I'll bet there were a lot of people who were WISHING for 90 degree heat when their power lines were being knocked out by two feet of heavy snow piled on top of them. All those people manifesting heat has led to this CRAZY heatwave of a summer. That's my theory, anyway.

The funny thing is, when the summer started, we were at our community pool as soon as it opened. We spent 11 hours there the first weekend. We were there every Saturday, Sunday, even weekday evenings if we weren't busy...basically, as often as we could get there. Somewhere around late July, we were all just sort of... over it. It's still hot, sure it is. But when I ask my kids if they want to go to the pool, they say, "Again?" I never thought I would see that day. And honestly? I can't blame them. I'm pretty tired of it, too. Come to think of it, lately I've just been tired. The last two Sundays, I have had a hard time even getting off the couch at all, let alone getting all our pool stuff packed up and hauled over to the pool.

But I'll have more on THAT for you next week...till then, you'll just have to stay tuned. And while you're at it, stay COOL. (How tired are we of hearing people say THAT??)

All-theism -- by Laura Houston

Two weeks ago I wrote a blog about religion and the effects a zealous parent can have on a child. I received a lot of responses. Most of them were very thoughtful and eye opening. One reader asked if I had discussed the eldest son’s upsetting comments with his mother. I had. And as you can imagine, it did not go well. She was defensive. Rightfully so. I would be, too.

And so the conversation began in my local mom’s group: Do you tell another parent that you find their child’s behavior offensive?

Our answers were as mixed as our feelings on it. Most of us agreed that the right thing to do is to try to figure out a way to dialog about it. But too few of us who had done it successfully without alienating a friend.

Children learn through socialization. So do parents. As painful as it is to hear someone say something your child is doing, it’s still a valuable learning tool. A parent has to figure out what information is important and what’s not when filtering other parents concerns. It’s a delicate process.

I often find myself torn when imparting information regarding a child. By no means am I an expert, but I have had a lot of training in behavior disorders and socialization. I used to be a social worker – a case manager to 57 at-risk youth and their families. I was also a foster mom to two high-needs boys. I took a lot of classes on parenting and mentoring kids with special needs. I have also attended 50+ hours of family and art therapy classes geared to help children attach, bond and better socialize. But all of my learning has been trial by fire. Books and classrooms are poor substitutions for real life.

My job to as a case manager was to mediate between child, parent, teacher, school administrators, lawyers, and juvenile court justices. Don’t let the title and the job description fool you. It was much easier to discuss child behavior with parents and teachers when it was my job rather than as a mother.

One of my foster sons had been sexually abused, and he had acted out with another child. Therefore the state would not allow him to be alone with other children under any circumstance. I also had to notify the parents of the children he played with that he had issues, and he was not to be left alone with their child. At the time, I lived in a “transitional neighborhood” where there was a mix of upper, middle and lower class residence. I found the parents to not only be tolerant of my son, but I found them to be supportive, as well.

I had a lot of parents come to me to talk about my son’s behavior. I could do it maturely and compassionately and with vested interest, but the moment I shut the door, I wanted to only to cry. It’s a terrible thing to watch a child say and do things that will eventually ostracize them. But thanks to the teamwork, my foster son is doing fine today. He knows the price he will pay if he ever steps out of line and acts out. He’s careful. He’s mindful. He fears shame and alienation of his peers. He knows people are watching, and he also knows people care about him.

So, yes, talk to the parents. I lost a friend in doing so, but if I look back, I gained a few along the way, too. After all, it takes a village. And I think how much better the world would be if we were all watching. Not judging. Just watching. And communicating with one another to keep our kids safe physically, mentally and socially. Because bigotry, violence, hatred, and unhappiness are all learned behaviors. It would be a better world if we called them out.

Win-Win Grandparenting -- by Robin

This is chest x-ray week for our family. I had to get a follow-up to check on my pneumonia, which as it turns out is still not completely gone...so more antibiotic for me. And Seth got his first chest x-ray to check out his chronic cough. Thankfully his turned out clean, which means that we need to explore further what might be causing his daily barking (pretty scary sounding).

He's had it for two plus years now, and he's already seen a pulmonary doctor, so we know it's not asthma. His pediatrician is next going to explore acid reflux, I believe, so we'll see where that goes. I would like to get to the bottom of it sooner than later.

This leads me to my topic for the week.....that of grandparent support.

I lost my beloved mom 10 years ago, and my dad (G-d bless him) is 91 and has health challenges. My father-in-law passed away as well, and my mother-in-law (MIL) is in her 80s, and while not perfect, is in general, in decent health (and probably more than decent).

I have always missed that my mom didn't live to see me become a mom, and when I got married, I thought it would be cool to have in-laws who would love and befriend me. I'm not saying that's not the case, but yesterday I was a bit dismayed.

I had planned to take Seth to the local hospital for the x-ray, at the suggestion of his pediatrician. Coincidentally, it happens to be the hospital where my MIL volunteers twice/week. She enjoys helping there and knows a ton of the people. When she heard I was going to take Seth there, she offered to come along. I told her that would be nice and that I'd phone once he came home from school to make sure he was up for it. He had had a bit of an upset stomach earlier in the week.

When he got home, I called her, and to my surprise, she said she'd come but needed to drive separately because she agreed to have dinner at my brother-in-law's house at an early hour. I didn't see how we'd possibly be done at the hospital in time for her to make it there, so I told her to forget it, and that we'd go ourselves.

Afterwards, I felt a heartache I didn't expect. I had welcomed her support, and was suddenly let down. My own mom wouldn't have done that to me if she promised to be a shoulder to lean on. It made me acutely aware of how I miss her and how at the end of the day, the person we can most count on is ourselves. While others in our lives may mean well, they don't always deliver for whatever reason. We have to be strong in our own right, and welcome support if/when it becomes available.

This made me somewhat sad. What was it like years ago when families often lived in communities and were really there for each other? How nice. How reassuring. How convenient.

I find myself jealous of others when I hear their parents are spending time with their child or helping out in some capacity. We don't really have that. And, it's a nice relationship for both the child and grandparent. In my book, it's a win-win.

And, as a mom without a mom, I often find myself welcoming mom figures into my life. In that way, I sometimes feel a bit needy. Though, in this case, I was not the one who invited my MIL to come. She offered. And, when I opened myself up to it, the story changed.

Ultimately, as it turned out, and much to my surprise....as we got poised to leave for the hospital, my MIL showed up at our doorstep and said she cancelled her dinner plans. I guess she had a change of heart. And, it did mean a lot to me.

I hope all the moms out there who have either in-laws or their own parents available to them, treasure these moments, and the huge source of support and love and wisdom they can offer. What I wouldn't give for that.