Being Present for My Son by Robin Gorman Newman

I am feeling quite out of sorts these days and trying my best despite it to be present for my son.

My father, 93, suffered a series of strokes, and after two weeks in the hospital is now at an acute rehab facility/hospital getting therapy, etc.

It's really hard and sad to see him so compromised and to have to work so hard toward some semblance of recovery.

I find myself some days waking up in a funk and going to bed with a feeling of unease.  I know my father wouldn't want that....but I'm questioning the future.  Stroke is just so cruel.  Where is he going with all this? I miss what he was...my strong, gregarious dad.

I also know what he would want is for me to be the best possible mother to Seth.  I have always considered myself a somewhat playful mom....but of late....my spirits aren't the highest.  This week, after I gave a rousing greeting to our cockatiel Smokey, Seth commented how I don't use that tone of voice with him.

I felt badly, but was also grateful that he was able to express how he felt.  I explained that I have used that voice with him but these days I'm sad over grandpa, and working to recover myself from a bad knee injury, so my emotional and physical plate feels overflowing.  He understood, but what kids do so well is to live in the moment. And while he grasped what I said, his goal was to have his chipper mom back, and I' struggling to find that voice.

A wise friend of mine pointed out that these are Seth's childhood years, and yet he's spent a decent chunk of time in hospitals seeing my dad through various health scenarios.  It's a lot for a child, though Seth is a trooper and always manages to find medical equipment that peaks his curiosity.  No doubt he'd much rather be at a laser tag place, for example, but he has learned that there are things we do in life that aren't always easy and pleasant, especially for people we love...and he does love my father.  But, I have to make it clear to Seth that he is a priority too, since my father's matters often become more urgent.  That's the nature of living the sandwich generation life and one of the big challenges of later motherhood.

I just need to find some pleasure and downtime in the every day, despite my fear, concern, uncertainty, overwhelm, etc...but how to do that?  It's not easy for me.  I know that this too shall pass, as my beloved mom always said, and I know that no one lives forever.  But, I didn't see this coming for my dad.  I'm not saying this is the end for him, but life as he knew it, and we all did, changed in the blink of an eye.  He's tired.  We're all tired.

I guess all I can do at the end of the day is the best that I can do...whatever that is.  Be present for him.  My son.  My husband.  My friends. My sibling.  And myself.  And, if I need a good cry, let it out.

Seth...My Son the Supporter by Robin Gorman Newman

Seth has proven to be such a source of support to me, at the tender age of 8.

My father, age 93, has had a gazillion health challenges since Seth was born, and more than once, we’ve made emergency visits to various local hospitals.

Last week, my beloved dad suffered a series of strokes, and has been at St. Francis Hospital.

When I became a later in life mother, I was somewhat conscious of the fact that I was living the “sandwich generation”….caring for a young child and senior dad.  But, that has taken on  heightened meaning as my father’s health challenges have become more acute in recent times.

I’m finding it essential to do my best to practice good self care, though the stress gets to me more than I’d like.  I’ve had bouts with tears, headaches and sleepless nights, but I want to be strong.  I don’t see anything wrong with crying, but I don’t know what Seth might be thinking or feeling deep down, and I’m trying to stay as upbeat as possible for him.  It’s not that I’m not thinking positive, I’m just drained with all the uncertainty, questions, decisions, etc.  I’ve come to understand….if not accept….that essentially this is what life is.  None of us has a crystal ball.  But, I do prefer it when I feel as if I’m coasting along and in a “safe” place, whatever that means for me. 

I am so proud of Seth when I witness his behavior in the hospital.  He is very patient, plays with his 3D DS and even involves himself in ways to be helpful that interest him.  For example, keeping an eye on the equipment that monitors my dad’s heart rate…..figuring out how to operate the lights, television, phone, etc. in his room…..fetching the nurse when we have a question, etc.  He’s become my little helper, and his spirit and energy help lift me up when I need it.  He’s like a little ray of sunshine, and I’m so very grateful for his presence in my life…and not just at this difficult time.

On the flip side…Seth is very high energy, and after a day at the hospital, I need to chill, and can’t do that with a young child.  There is dinner to be made, homework, bath time, toy clean up, after school programs, etc.  We have an agenda, and do our best to continue the daily routine as we know it, despite extenuating circumstances.   I’m so grateful to my husband who is totally there for us and helpful in every way he can be and more. 

There is the saying “It takes a village….” (to raise a child), and when difficult times arise in life, this feels especially true. 

Mission Statement for Motherhood - by Leta Hamilton

As 2012 approaches, I am going to challenge you to write a Mission Statement for Motherhood. This simple technique takes the letters in “Motherhood” and uses them to encapsulate your core values as a person and as a mother. For example, my Mission Statement for Motherhood is as follows:

M = Measure their success by the amount of joy they experience.

O = Open my door when they knock and listen for when they are standing there, but afraid to knock.

T  = Take the time for my own personal and spiritual growth.

H = Help with life and homework, but do not do it for them.

E = Engage with them as people, rather than just as “kids.”

R = Read and Review my Mission Statement for Motherhood often to remind myself of what matters.

H = Harness their passions to the best of my ability and help them master the skills of their dreams.

O = Organize my own life to be fulfilled outside of my kids and my role as parent.

O = Offer myself the same amount of unconditional love I give to them.

D = Demonstrate to the best of my abilities those qualities I most want to pass on – Unconditional Love, Tolerance, Respect, Humility, and Personal Responsibility

This Mission Statement for Motherhood is printed out, framed and hung up in two locations in my home. In the kitchen I can see it as I go about fulfilling the tasks of mother in the communal nature of family. It is here that we eat our dinners, work on our homework and discuss the ups and downs of our day. Next to the light switch just as you enter the kitchen, I am constantly reminded to be mindful of what I consider sacred about life and motherhood. It is not that I have to read it all the time, but it is of tremendous value just being there, knowing that it is available for reading during those moments when I suddenly realize I have forgotten to see the forest for the trees.

It is also in my bedroom hung next to my dresser. This is my personal space where I brush my hair, put on my makeup and prepare my inner self for the new day. It is also the last place I stand before heading into the bed for night. Here my Mission Statement for Motherhood acts as a trigger to bring everything back to center and to that place where everything begins and ends – my inner self. Again, there is no pressure to read it word for word. Its presence is simply a metaphor for the energy that will take me back to a place where I feel at peace. With all the chaos of life and motherhood, I value this metaphor. I need it. Inner peace is a place from which I deviate often.

The process of writing my Mission Statement for Motherhood took several weeks. I wrote draft after draft until I was sure I had a version I would love for the rest of my life. For some, they may choose to write new ones at various intervals of the motherhood path. Who knows? I may change mine at some point down the line. For now, though, it is enough to have it written, printed and framed on my walls. I love having them there. If you have never considered writing a Mission Statement for Motherhood, I would encourage you to write one now, especially as we close up this year and head into 2012. A Mission Statement is the defining statement for a business and so too it can be for our lives. With that clarity, things become much easier. Ease is a treasure every mother can appreciate. Blessings and Happy New Year to you and yours.

The Halloween Octo'easter by Margaret Hart

In thinking about this week's blog, I couldn't escape my thoughts about the Nor'easter that slammed the New England states this past weekend on the eve of Halloween.  The network news covered it, but it was the countless posts and pictures on facebook that really told the story:  there were children in snowsuits posing with snowmen and scarecrows alike, pumpkins with snow beards, and tree branches hanging like so many cobwebs over streets, parked cars, and "haunted" houses.

We all heard it was coming, but no one wanted to believe it. So we all went about our business on Saturday, and then all of a sudden, it hit.  Giant clumps of cold, wet snow falling rapidly from the sky.  Traffic ground to a halt as it tends to do at the first big snow of the year. I started receiving email alerts about Halloween events that were cancelled. By mid afternoon, tree limbs were hanging so low, heavy with wet snow, that they literally hit my windshield as I hurried home from errands. Tree limbs had snapped and fallen across streets in my neighborhood. 

By evening, the lights had flicked on and off a few times in our house and we held our breath each time. We hunkered down, popped in the "Great Pumpkin" video and just waited....by bedtime, we were astonished we still had power as the predicted winds had picked up and the trees were really swaying.  We jumped when we heard a loud thump, thinking it was a tree branch hitting the roof, but then realized it was clumps of heavy, wet snow falling off trees.

We live in a densely wooded area and trees are always a problem for power lines. So we made a reservation at a local hotel, just in case, and got one of the last available rooms. By morning, we awoke in our own beds to learn that some 800,000 people in our state of Connecticut were without power, and our governor had declared a state of emergency. New Jersey and New York had not fared well, either.

In most storms, we are among the first to lose power and the last to have it restored. But by some stroke of luck, we had made it through this storm, still had power, and thankfully, no damage to our home. I turned on the television news only to learn that the storm had wreaked havoc throughout New England. Several million people were without power along the east coast. And in Connecticut, our governor announced at a press conference that citizens should expect prolonged delays in restoration. Needless to say, people were not happy.

While I wasn't thrilled with the prospect of a storm in October, I was relieved that this Nor'easter, rather, this "Octo'easter," spared us this time around. I felt bad for all the people who lost power and remain without it as I write. It's a shame that Halloween parties and events were cancelled. Many school districts in neighboring towns cancelled school on Monday (and beyond), and some communities cancelled trick-or-treating out of safety concerns due to downed trees and power lines.

But it was Halloween, and determined moms were finding creative ways to make it a fun holiday for their kids and trying not to let Mother Nature get the best of them.  Facebook chatter switched from "12 hours and counting with no power" to "come to our neighborhood to trick or treat."  Resilient moms (and dads) in "dark" neighborhoods just moved their troops to neighborhoods where the pumpkins were glowing and the bat wings were flapping.   

In the end, this Octo'easter will likely be a Halloween that our kids will remember not because of the power outage and broken trees, or even the postponed or cancelled parties; they will remember it because it snowed on Halloween. Kids are great that way!

Mentor by Robin Gorman Newman

I'm out of sorts this week.

A mentor who I highly respected and cared for passed away unexpectedly.  He was a huge supporter of my writing and a real cheerleader for my career.  Not only was I shocked, but so sad.  Tears came pouring out.  He was a mensch of a guy, true professional and talent, and a teddy bear in the best sense of the word.  I grieve for him, feel for his family, and understand all the more the twists 'n turns and fragility of life.

On his Facebook page, there is an outpouring of love and kind words.  Clearly this was a man who touched many lives, and I want to do him proud by continuing enthusiastically to work on projects he encouraged me to pursue. He would want that.

My son never saw me cry so much (he wasn't alive when my mother passed away), and he rose to the occasion admirably this week.  He sat in my lap, gave me a big hug and brought a box of tissues, as I explained why I was so shaken and what this man meant to me and so many.

It made me aware of the notion of having a mentor and being a role model.

I am grateful to have had him in my life, and I'm now wondering who will provide that to my son as the years go by?

I want to be a positive role model for him, but I know there will be skills and pursuits that are important to him that he'll seek out, and I won't be the one to teach him.  Someone else, we have yet to identify, or more than one person, will fill those shoes.  And, it's BIG shoes to fill.  Inspiring a young mind...or for that matter....a mind of any age....is such an admirable task.  You have the ability to help someone fulfill their dreams, and to know that you did good in the world.  What could be more gratifying?!

I'm all about helping people, and I do it becasue it feels good.  I don't expect any payback.  In return, I receive gratification.  I'd like my son to feel the same way and to appreciate those who live by that creed. 

There's a lot to be said for helping others.  And, isn't that what good teachers do?  They share their acquired expertise and training and mold impressionable minds.  As adults, we might also call them mentors, though I guess that's more a one-on-one relationship.I Googled the word, and this is a definition I turned up.....A mentor facilitates personal and professional growth in an individual by sharing the knowledge and insights that have been learned through the years.

I hope for my son that as he matures, he is lucky enough to find himself in the company of a mentor or two who will help him travel along his chosen path.  Given that I'm a midlife mother, I know my son will spend a good portion of his adult life holding the memory of me in his heart, and I keep the faith that he will surround himself with good people who he can teach, and others he can learn from.

We're never too young or old to be inspired and to seek out people who can help us think out of the box, put aside self doubt, make discoveries, achieve things we might not have thought possible, and empower us to be the best we can be, both for our own benefit and that of the world at large.