From Plants to Ramps by Robin Gorman Newman

What does a day in the life of a “later” mom look like? Depends on the day of the week, but of late in particular, it's jam-packed and not altogether fun.

I feel like a chicken without a head. (A fitting expression.…but where did it come from?!) Jumping from one task to the next, many of which are unrelated, it's a wonder I can track everything. Thankfully, I excel at preparing copious TO DO lists...though in my effort to be organized, sometimes it feels overwhelming. My notes are handwritten. Not in my Blackberry. For me, there is something to be said for the tangibility of paper, even if it involves sporting around a clunky hard covered date book. No way I can be confused with a techie, but it works for me.

That said, one of my fellow “later” mom friends called me last week to touch base. She asked how my day was going.

I told her I was involved with plants and ramps. What? she asked.

It was a true representation of my sandwich generation life.

Though I’m not much of a PTA baby, I decided to join the Plant Sale committee. It is the biggest fundraiser for my son’s elementary school (who knew?!), and despite my not having a particularly green thumb, somehow it called out to me. An email was sent by the committee head to those who expressed interest in serving. There were about 15 names on the list. An initial meeting was planned, and it wound up being just three of us. I was surprised by the lack of present bodies. I was looking forward to a meeting where ideas would be shared. This turned out to be a session reviewing the plant catalog and deciding upon which planters to order. (Are you yawning yet?!) The committee head had already made the decisions for the most part, and was looking for confirmation re: her choices. The next meeting (don't get too excited) will be when the actual plant selection is done. And, I'll be volunteering at the sale itself in May.

Re: the ramp portion of my day. My father recently suffered a stroke and has been in rehab. Anticipating his return home in a couple of weeks, I’ve been conducting meetings with ramp companies to explore the preparation of his ranch house for wheelchair accessibility. In in a short period of time, I’ve learned more about ramps, lifts, etc. that I’ve ever thought necessary. Fortunately in the mix of meetings, a friend recommended a reasonably-priced contractor who proposed the most economical and what seems like the most feasible approach, so I’m grateful to have a direction that feels right.

It’s no surprise that there are nights I don’t sleep well…with visions of plants and ramps swirling through my mind. And, that was just for that particular week.

On any given day, I’m tackling a multitude of projects, not to mention professional pursuits. Can’t say the life of a work at home mom is boring, though choosing planters is a far cry from the career I once had in what feels like a lifetime ago….working as a public relations professional in NYC….the Vice President of a mid sized firm. (I later went on to open my own PR practice.)

I know that on the professional front there are exciting things ahead, but personally, a midlife mom's gotta do what she's gotta do, even if it means deliberating about wood vs. metal and hibiscus vs. herbs.

What do you have on your personal plate that isn't as exciting as you wish? Do share.....

A Thankful Job -- by Margaret Hart

This year, as Thanksgiving approaches, I started thinking about all the things for which I'm thankful, and my mind literally started to race.  My list goes well beyond the three things kids get asked to list on their paper turkeys in school, and it starts with one very important item:  my son.  Seven years ago, on December 2, 2004, Ethan was born. He came into the world with the roundest, most perfect little head and cutest, tiniest little body. He seemed to know right away that I was his mom. He grabbed hold of one of my fingers and held it tight. He looked up at me as if to say, "Hello, Mommy."  He had me at "hello."  Truth be told, he had me at his first sonogram. The one where he was sucking his thumb.     

While I am thankful for my family and friends, my health, their health, the roof over my head, the fact that in this economy we still have jobs (knock wood), and much more, I am most thankful for my son and for the chance to be a mom–his mom.  To say he has changed my life for the better would be an understatement. He has given me the opportunity to do something really meaningful.  Yes, I do believe that I have contributed to society in other important ways, but I know in my heart that being his mom is the piece de resistance–for me.

I am thankful for my motherhood job that gives me the chance to utilize my organizational skills, my creativity, my negotiation skills, my socials skills, and all the other skills I have honed in my professional life. I am thankful that as a mother, I get to teach my son all the wonderful things that my parents taught me. And I am thankful that I get the chance to help shape a beautiful little mind and watch it grow. And feel good that, one day, when he grows up and is independent, that I was partly responsible for the wonderful man I know he will become. I see my role of mom as the one and only job that is really important, and I want to be the best CEO Mom for my son. I am thankful that I have been given the chance to try. 

So this week when I am eating my turkey and mashed potatoes with gravy (which are not on my 1,000 calorie a day diet), and trying to get my son to eat his, I will be thinking about how thankful I am to have food on the table and the chance to nag my son about eating his vegetables.  Afterward, when the Triptan has kicked in and we're all taking a nap, I will be thankful that my son turns down the volume on his 3DS so I can get some much needed rest. 

But seriously, this Thanksgiving, I am thinking about how thankful I am for the opportunity to have the job of a lifetime.  My paycheck comes in many forms:  a running, leaping hug that nearly knocks me over, a lick-kiss because he thinks it's funny, a sweet drawing of a heart that says "I love you Mom," a cookie saved for me from his lunch, a flower he picks for me from our garden in the summertime, and the wide smiles he beams when I say something funny.  

This Thanksgiving, I am more thankful than ever that I am the mom of a very excited almost seven-year-old for whom I am baking and decorating 24 custom angry birds cupcakes! By the way, does anyone know where I can find black shoelace licorice for the eyebrows?!

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours! 

Missing My Dad by Robin Gorman Newman

I miss my dad, but he's still here.

He's 93, G-d bless him, and I'm grateful for every day he's in our lives.  But, I miss what he was.

Every phone conversation we have or get together is peppered with discussion of how he feels, which is never good.  It's always something.

Back in April he had yet another abdominal surgery which landed him yet again in rehab.  I had hoped that would bring his health matters to a halt at least for some time.  I was wrong.  Shortly thereafter, he complained about his vision and learned that he has the start of cataracts which he is now itching to take care of. 

Earlier this week, he had a Ct scan to check up on the abdominial surgery had had because he still feels some discomfort.

It's very difficult.

He has a good friend, Bob, who used to get getting together with us.  The three of us would have lunch, and he'd tell stories and make us both laugh.  He's not laughing much these days.  He's having difficulty walking and is spending more 'n more time at his son's place.  Really, he shouldn't be living alone anymore.

Thankfully my dad has a live-in aide, which gives both him and me peace of mind.

But, it's sad.

I miss what my dad used to be.  And, there are days when I wish for a second he would "fake" it.  I'd just once love to hear from him that "things are fine....he feels ok."  But, I don't anticipate that will ever happen.  It's also partly in my father's nature to focus on himself...often to the point of obsession.  He likes to share and talk about his "stuff," for better or worse, whereas someone else might want to spare their child the daily details of their chronic ailments.

As an older mom, this all gets me thinking.

When I have a day that I might feel less than patient with my father, I turn my mind toward wondering how I will be as an old woman.  It's a bit hard for me, I must admit, to fathom that, G-d willing, I will be a senior one day.  I certainly hope I'll reach that point and beyond...so I can see my son mature as the years go by.  But, I also hope that I won't grow into a cranky post menopausal woman who my son will cringe to call because he hangs up depressed, as I sometimes do, after speaking to my father.

It's not his intent to leave me in that state, but I often find I have to "rebound," so to speak, to pull myself out of the funk that results from our conversation.

Sometimes I wonder if he might feel better if he tried to take an upbeat tact.  Isn't there something to be said for mind over matter and the power of positive thinking?!  

As later in life moms, some of us have a high conscious of mortality.  I don't so much view it that way.  I more strive to be as happy and fulfilled a person as possible, and hope that I may carry a positive outlook into old age.  I'd hate for my son to miss me even while I'm still alive.  I might not have the energey I did as a 40-something mom, but I'll never lose the twinkle in my eye I have for Seth, and hope that he'll, long after I'm gone, remember the days when I referred to him as "my little buddy" and he called me his "mommy girl." 

Stopping Traffic by Robin Gorman Newman

My son has long been a Rescue Hero in the making.  That's when he's not busy being a CSI Investigator, SWAT Team member, Policeman, Fireman, EMS worker, Spy, Power Ranger, etc., etc.

He has an impressive collection of baseball caps emblazoned with a wide array of motifs fitting these various bills.  He has costumes replete with pants, vests and accessories that further feed the frenzy.  On top of that, he has Nerf guns, play handcuffs, flashlights, etc.

Add to all that a widely vivid imagination and a deep desire to do good/help people, and you never know what can result.

I witnessed it first hand at an impromptu playdate last week.  A friend he sits with on the bus popped over after school to give him something, and he wound up staying for two hours.  Thankfully, the rain had finally subsided, and they opted to play outdoors.

They rode bikes up and down the street, but when the paraphenalia and role play started to break out, things took a more complex turn.  I was watching them for some time, and then retreated to my office where I could see them out the window.  But, I learned that I can't turn my back for 5 seconds.

The phone rang, and it was my next door neighbor Jill, who we're friendly with.  She asked, "Do you know that Seth and his friend are stopping traffic?"  I was stunned...embarassed (for not knowing)...thanked her for calling and bolted out the door.

I should have taken a picture of what I saw.  Seth was on one side of the street in front of the house, and his playmate in crime was on the other side across the street, and they had strung a piece of plastic rope across the road so cars had to stop.  They also put out plastic cones that Seth likes to play with when he's creating a "construction zone."  Very authoritatively, they proclaimed they were stopping cars as they endeavored to drive down the block, to make sure they were wearing seatbelts.  They took huge pride in pointing out the Fed Ex truck they had also stopped, and how the driver thanked them for so dilligently trying to protect people.

I ordered them off the street and to gather their gear from the road and tried to explain how, while they meant well, there are people in this world who might not embrace their efforts.  What if they ran into someone like that?  Seth then showed me a hammer (real one) he had taken from our garage, and how he was prepared to use it in self defense if needed.  Part of me was glad he had thought of that, but I certainly didn't want him engaging in a fight.

He and his friend both complained how I ruined their fun.  And, I suppose you could say I did.  But, what's a mother to do?!  I need to somehow help channel his desire to do good and play security into a safer mode of expression.  What, at the moment, I don't know.

What also concerns me is that I now feel I can't let him out of my sight for even a brief period, even in front of the house.  That's all it takes for something to happen, and even in the safest of neighborhoods, bad things can result.

Next time, my son goes to play outside, perhaps I'll join his SWAT team or whatever it is at the moment.  I'm sure he'd welcome the additional manpower, and I'd have an up close 'n personal look (and control) over the situation. Stopping traffic is not a game I'd recommend.

Clarity in the Dark by Robin Gorman Newman

Like many, we lost power due to Hurricane Irene last week.

Unlike not so many I know, we lost it for seven, nearly full days, but who's counting?!

Most I personally know lost it for a few hours or days.

Nothing prepares you for this.  We returned from vacation just the day before, as planned, knowing we were coming home to a less than stellar situation, but we had to secure the house.  We lost power in the past, and tend to be prone to it, given all the trees in my neighborhood (that add much beauty, but wreak havoc during storms),  But, 7 days broke our record and exceeded the timeframe LIPA (our power company) stated.  Had we had some realistic sense, we would have taken action like giving away our food, instead of seeing it go to waste.

Despite our supply of flashlights, push button lights, book lights and a lattern, the situation remained challenging.  No hot water.  No cooking.  No air conditioning.  No electric garage.  No internet.  No television. No house alarm.  No door bell. No charging a cell phone. When you think of lack of power, lights readily come to mind, but so much more is involved. 

I had planned to get certain things done.  It was the last week before school, and I was counting on playing catch-up from our time away, with an eye toward easing Seth into third grade.

Irene had another plan...and as my beloved mom used to say, may she rest in peace, "we make our plans, and G-d makes his."   Amen to that.  Sometimes a situation is way bigger than us, despite our desire for some semblance of control, and ultimately it's how you choose to react to it.

While it often felt like there was no light at the end of the tunnel, valuable life lessons and positive experiences emerged.  I'd like to share...

*Don't be afraid to ask overtly for help.  One of my close local friends had her husband pick us up the first night of the blackout so that we could eat with them and be in comfort.  It was SO hugely appreciated.

*Not everyone handles things the same. A friend or two said to me, if it's so stressful, why not leave?  Since they hadn't picked up the phone to actually talk to me, they couldn't fully appreciate how I was feeling and why we didn't want to leave, i.e. my bird was home with us in a rather large cage, my hormones were raging (that time of the month), our house alarm didn't work (we were concerned about theft), we couldn't lock one of the garage doors we had opened manually (also theft concern), etc. Until you live in someone else's shoes, you might not fully grasp their take on things.  Certainly if it had been scorchingly hot at night and we were unable to sleep, I would have looked for shelter elsewhere.  I've never been one to simply flee a situation, unless I have no choice.

*You can't always just put a "band-aid" on a situation.  We are aware that getting a generator is something to explore, but it's not an easy, affordable or overnight decision.

*Television and technology can take a toll.  While I know I spend much time with both, taking this forced hiatus made me realize how freeing it is to give yourself a break. Initially I felt like I was having withdrawal, but after some time, I grew more accepting and valued the quiet. Thankfully, I did have a Blakcberry, that helped me to feel connected.

Aside from the insight I gained, I treasured the time with my son Seth.  He was such a trooper.  By day, we kept busy, seeing friends, buying batteries, driving around to charge my cell phone and his DVD player.  But, it felt like the two of us (my husband Marc was working) against the elements.  By night, after we ate out dinner (despite a night dining by flashlight....not big on candles with a child), we'd snuggle in bed and watch a DVD.  He slept with me, since he's afraid of the dark, and Marc slept in his bed.  Granted I didn't often sleep well since he's restless and kicks or pokes, but it was worth it.

One day, Seth made a really poignant comment.  He was eating ice cream and we talked about how fast it was melting.   He said that "time melts away too."  I asked what he meant.  And, he said he didn't want to get big too fast.  I asked why.  And, he explained he wanted to play with his toys for a long time.  It was such a tender moment, as I realized that while part of me hoped the time would pass quickly so we'd soon regain our power, I've never liked the notion of wishing time away.  My son is already 8, and third grade started this Tuesday.  He's becoming a big boy before my eye, and even though I felt "powerless" with the lack of power, we have the power to control our thoughts, and what we choose to focus on, and relish the memories we create.

I will always remember Seth and the hugs we exchanged in the darkness, when his little arms reached out for me as his protector.  And, while he didn't know it, he was a source of strength for me as well.  There was one day, when I felt so particularly drained, that I was on the verge of tears.  Because of Seth, I fought them back.  While he has seen me cry before, in this situation, I wanted to be a rock for him.

While we couldn't see each other fully at night in the dark house, our hearts were together, as I hope they will always be as the years drift by.

Nature vs. Nuture by Robin Gorman Newman

My husband invited Seth and I to spend two nights with him in East Hampton on a business trip, and we just returned last night.

Originally I wasn't sure if we'd stay one or two nights, but we had such a great first day, that we decided to stay.

Marc worked at his client, and I drove his car around.  It was Seth and I by day, and we had a blast.  We visited South Hampton, Sag Harbor and Amagansett.  Shopped til you drop, and also hit the streets of East Hampton.  We managed to squeeze in a swim, and had some nice meals out.

Seth has been my shopping buddy since he was little.

I used to take him to the supermarket where he'd help put the bottles and cans into the return machine, and we'd make our way up 'n down the aisles, where he picked out food he'd like to eat, and I pointed out things like coconuts, which was another comical blog post I wrote. I treated it as an educational/bonding experience.

My real  shopping treat is rummaging the racks of TJ Maxx. It's the thrill of the hunt...and bargain prices.  Seth often came with me.  We had a pact....we shop for mommy, then we shop for Seth.  I never promised I'd buy him a toy.  Sometimes I did...other times not...didn't want him to expect that each time we entered a store, he'd come out with a goody.  And, he came to understand.

He is generally patient and even offers his opinion if I'm contemplating make a purchase I'm not sure of.  He he has good taste.

It's led me to think about nature vs. nurture.

When I've shared with mom friends about the way Seth and I shop together, some are amazed.  They say they could never do that with their sons.  But, I wonder if part of it is training..the experience you share with them and how you make it fun.  Or, do they just assume their child wouldn't rise to the occasion, without giving it a go?

Is it possible someone is just an innate shopper?  And, what about other activities that we might think they'd won't like or they haven't been groomed for?

It's easy to reach a conclusion in advance, and you might be pleasantly surprised.

Seth is always eager to join me on a shopping trip, as long as I make sure there are interesting things for him to look at and that I don't overdue any time in the fitting room.

I'm grateful for his company and am glad that this is one activity we can share since there are so many boy toys, games, etc. that aren't the easiest for me to embrace.  For that, he has his father, friends, or does some solo play.  But, I do want to continue to cultivate a close relationship with him as the years go by, and while shopping isn't all that we do together, it is something that works for both of us...even if just window shopping.  Part of the fun is the exploration and the mommy/son time.

Are there things you do with your child that you raised them to enjoy?

Are there activities you wish they'd embrace?

Autonomy by Robin Gorman Newman

We received a notice in the mail today from Seth's daycamp.  They don't waste anytime trying to get you to sign on the dotted line for next summer.  This summer isn't even over...thankfully....and I certainly don't want to wish it away.

The flyer was an invitation for Seth, who enters third grade in the fall, to attend one week of sleepaway as part of his daycamp experience next year.  They make special arrangements for kids age 9 and up.

We asked Seth if he might like to do it, and he said he wasn't sure.  I could tell he was intrigued by the notion, but nervous at the same time.  He asked if there would be daddy long legs there.  I said there might be since the rooms are cabins, and the grounds are very rustic. Had to be honest.  He detests spiders.

Seth is growing up....quickly.  To imagine him on his own for a week is something that's a bit hard for me to swallow.  I know the day will come, if he chooses to attend, but how will the house feel without him?

As much as I get overwhelmed with his clutter of toys all over, laundry on the floor, empty drink containers, pee stained toilet seats, etc., I adore his company...well...most of the time. There are times when I need my own space, as anyone does.  But, he's generally an upbeat, kind kid who, yes, tires me out, but who makes me laugh and gives hugs like no other.

Would he like sleepaway?

We put him to bed now...and my husband lays with him most nights until he nods off.  We help him put on pajamas...yes he can do it himself...but he prefers not to.  We help him dress in the morning....sure he can pick out his own clothes and put them on, but he welcomes assistance.  We prompt him to brush teeth and pee before bedtime.  Would he do it on his own?  I imagine he'd mimic the other boys who would be in his bunk.  Would he come home a changed chlid?  Would he resume his old habits?  Would I miss it if he didn't?  It's nice to feel needed, but it's also good to know that, especially if we're in a rush, he can get himself prepared to leave the house.

Parenting is all about raising a child to go out into the world and embrace his autonomy.

We know we've done our job when we can send our child out there with confidence, strength, good values, street smarts, etc.

No parent lives forever, and later moms may have an even higher consciousness of this fact.  Though I don't dwell on it, I already know what it feels like to lose a parent...my mom....who never saw me become a mom.  So, I know all too well that the best you can do as a mother is to let your child know they'd be okay without you. I'm not suggesting you need to verbalize that, but rather instill in them a sense of security and inner peace to know they can conquer whatever lies ahead, and to embrace all that life has to offer, and to always hold the love of their parents in their heart, where it will never fade, whatever the future brings.

Life Lesson - by Robin Gorman Newman

The Rolling Stones got that right in their rock classic, "You Can't Always Get What You Want."

Seth experienced this first hand recently, and it was a valuable reminder lesson for me as well and something I appreciated sharing with him.

We had tickets to see Gazillion Bubble Show for the third time in New York City....yes....we've become groupies!  And, if you haven't seen it, it's a fun family outing.  I've even gone with girlfriends who enjoyed it, so you don't have to be a mom to have a good time.

Marc drove to work in the city, so we'd have the car for the return trip home in the evening.  Seth and I were at the pool in afternoon and left early to take the Long Island Railroad to Manhattan.  When we got to the platform, there were hoards of people. Immediately I thought something is going on.  We heard an announcement that an earlier train was delayed, so we figured that was the problem. But, it was bigger than that.  Due to a heavy rain and thunder storm earlier in the day, there were electrical problems at our station.  We kept hearing announcements that trains were to arrive on time (which were clearly programmed before the problems), because ultimately they announced service was suspended.  We waited for over an hour with the hope that things would resume, but it didn't happen, and by then, it was rush hour and too late to consider any alternate mode of getting into the city.  We would not have made the show on time.

I called Marc, and my friend who was to join us, to say the show was a "wash", and we'd try to reschedule.  Seth started to cry and refused to throw in the towel.  I gave him credit for holding out for hope, but clearly the situation wasn't good.

I quickly came up with an alternate plan....to visit Game Stop....he had wanted to pick up Game Boy games using a Gift Card he received.  This proved a good distraction, but the situation prompted a talk that became a life lesson.

I explained to Seth that life has disappointments.  Things don't always work out as we plan.  It's important to be flexible, and keep the faith that if one thing doesn't come to fruition, something else will. 

I've always believed  we don't necessarily know why certain things happen, good or bad, but the universe has a plan.  It gives me comfort.  Especially when I'm in the gray.  And, isn't that life in general?  No one has a crystal ball, and while we might feel at times we'd like one, other times, going with the flow is the best and only viable course of action.

While I know we will have the opportunity to take in GAZILLION BUBBLE SHOW on another date, I hope Seth will take away the postive message I iintended. It will serve him well in life, as it continues to serve me.

My Big Little Guy by Robin Gorman Newman

Seth is growing up in a flash before my teary eyes.

Second grade will soon come to an end, and this week, parents were invited into this classroom to watch a year-end slide compilation created by Seth's teacher.  It was so immensely touching and well done...from the choice of heartfelt music to the overall presentation.  Songs from the Little Mermaid and Beaches had me all choked up.  I didn't expect it.  But, what struck me the most from the experience was the fullness of my son's life when I'm not with him.  As I strive to be a stimulated (if not overwhelmed) stay at home working, multi-tasking mom, jumping back in forth between personal/family and professional pursuits, Seth is creating a life of his own.

He has friends he plays with.  Teachers who engage him.  Bus drivers who transport him.  Experiences that enrich him.  And, he's only 8.  There is so much more to come.

While I was aware of the special in-school ceremonies, occasions and outside field trips to places like the local firehouse, police station and children's hospital, I was truly taken by the rich array of activities, and the fact that from day to day, he is occupied filling his young mind with the vastness of the world.  His school is  wonderful, and we are hugely fortunate to have such good public education available to us.  That was definitely a consideration when deciding where to live, knowing our goal was to one day have a family.

As Seth continues to mature, he will have more 'n more adventures and experiences outside the home, with and without us....both good 'n bad. 

He'll meet kids and adults he doesn't like (he's already encountered what he calls "the bully girls" during recess), and will learn to navigate the complex world of relationships.

He'll learn about romantic love.  He has had a "girlfriend" since kindergarten, and one day, he'll have a serious girlfriend and even have sex.  It's hard me me to wrap my brain around that notion, as I help dress him each morning for school, and he gets a kick out of giving me glimpses of his buff little butt....which will no doubt become the object of desire of women when he's grown.  

He'll establish priorities.  He already knows what is important to him and how he likes to help others, whether it's assisting the lifeguards at our community pool or standing up for other kids (as one  mom told me at his class this week), who are having a hard time for whatever reason.

He'll ultimately decide his profession of choice.  At this point in time, if you were to ask, he'd state emphatically fireman, followed by FBI agent, SWAT team member, etc. 

He'll one day have a dog.  On an almost daily basis, he asks my husband and I if we'll ever get a dog.  He adores animals in general, and since he also loves police, he'd welcome a german sherphard, which he would raise as if it's a member of the K-9 force.  But, Marc and I have no plans to get a dog.....we currently have a cockatiel, and that's enough in our book.

I could go on 'n on about all that life potentially holds for him, but for now, I'm grateful to still be able to hold his 50lb trim body in my arms and on my lap, and that he still likes to cuddle and craves my good night kisses and hugs.  No matter how old he is, I will never stop taking pleasure in that, and I hope one day, he'll return my hugs with a huge muscular bear hug when he's a man, and I'm an old woman, looking back on the years well spent helping to create the fine human being that Seth has turned out to be.

Ask and Ye Shall Be Heard....Hopefully by Robin Gorman Newman

This past weekend was a hectic one.  In between spending time visiting my dad at the rehab facility, Seth had two kid birthday parties, baseball practice, kick boxing, and Marc and I had theatre tickets.

My husband and I split up the activities for Seth, as we played chauffeur, not to mention getting caught in the rain without an umbrella when the heavens suddenly opened up after party #1.

Our plan worked until Sunday morning when Marc announced he had two hours before they needed to leave for the party, and did we need anything at the supermarket?  I had just done a quick food shop the day before, so "no."  Clearly, I got the impression he was looking for a reason to get out of the house.  Perhaps I was mistaken, but that was how it felt in my gut.  I obliged and suggested he visit my father, and he seized the opportunity.  He asked Seth if he wanted to go with him, and he opted to stay home to play with this toys, or so Marc thought.

Marc presumed that meant he would amuse himself, but that's not how it turned out.  He wanted to play with me, and since it was the weekend, I felt badly turning him down, despite the fact I planned to work Sunday....at least for the afternoon.  I was counting on a decent chunk of time to craft a speech on Life in the Later Mom Lane for the MOM Conference in NYC that I delivered on 5/23.  Marc knew that.

When Marc returned, he was surprised to see me perched on the master bed with Seth instead of in my office.  He thought I'd be dilligently typing my talk on the computer, but instead I had Seth glued to me at the hip.  He anticipated I'd tell Seth I don't have time for play.  I responded to Marc by getting angry and suggesting  he didn't respect my needs.  I had made it clear I required time, so why didn't he insist Seth accompany him instead of putting me in the position to deny playtime with him?!  It made me feel like he had no problem with me being the bad one.  And, on top of it, I felt like a babysitter.  He didn't ask if it was ok if he went out.  In fact, I was kinda stunned at the moment that he didn't just stay home and engage Seth. Did he need me to tell him that?  Apparently....yes.

When I explained how I felt to Marc that evening, after they returned from the party and I declared he was in charge of Seth's bath, Marc was surprised I was upset.  In his eyes, he was trying to be helpful by offering to do an errand.

What I realized is that if you need or want something, you have to express it with total clarity and conviction.  I could have articulated I need you to stay home with Seth while I work, but I didn't think I had to spell it out.  I presumed he'd get it, and that was my mistake.  You can't get inside someone else's head, and the older I get, the more I realize that.  And, this is true whether family or friends.  Not everyone thinks as we do or has the insight or foresight to be there as we'd hope in a perfect world.  I experienced that just recently when I saw what friends were by my side during the stress of my father's surgery.

Loved ones do their best, and the more we can guide them, the better job they will do.  At the end of the day, they want to see us happy, and my husband is a big supporter of my goals and pursuits (for the most part).

Next time, I won't hesitate to ask for what I need.  His heart was in the right place, that much I do know.

A Trip Down Nannny Memory Lane by Robin Gorman Newman

Seth's former nanny called.  It's been nearly three years since she left.

We were in the middle of eating dinner in the kitchen, so the answering machine (on speaker)  picked up, and I was stunned (we were all stunned) to hear the words "This is Eunice....."  She went on to say timidly that she'd been thinking about Seth, had wanted to send a birthday card but misplaced our address, so decided to swallow her pride and pick up the phone.

I was going to jump in and grab the receiver, but I was so taken aback and didn't want to interrupt our family meal (it's not too often we get to all sit down together, and my dad was visiting).  She asked that I call her back, yet she didn't leave her number (I still had it on my cell.).

She was always loving and devoted to Seth....and honest.  These are important things when you take someone in to live with you.  She spent nearly five years dwelling in our less than swanky basement, caring for Seth from age 8 months to close to 5 years.  She was dependable (for the most part), and she became a friend to me. We had many close conversations, and she got to know all of us, including my senior dad who frequently stays over when his aide goes home weekends.

On the challenging side, Eunice didn't take good care of her health.  She had scary high blood pressure (and would sometimes forget to take her pills or run out), and asthma (including bouts of misplacing her inhaler, only to inform me the morning after that she almost died during the night until she got her hands on it.). 

This was all worrisome, to say the least. Here was a woman we hired to watch our son, and help with light housework and occasional cooking, yet ultimately, I started to feel like her caretaker.  I grew more and more ill at ease with the situation, and things came to a head one Friday. 

Eunice informed me that she had yet again made an appointment to visit her clinic, and it was on a Monday.  She knew that Monday was my standing gym appointment, yet she persisted in going that day of the week.  I suggested she make her appointment on a Friday, and she got all flustered and upset, accusing me of not showing concern for her health.  That couldn't be further from the truth.  I was glad to see her taking action, but it impacted my workout schedule with a trainer that wasn't flexible.

We wound up having a heated argument, and she left.  We did intend to let her go in a few months due to our plan to do major construction in our basement, but we never anticipated things would come to a head as they did.  It was a big disappointment.  She left in such a rage that she barely said goodbye, despite our giving her a generous severance (which we scrambled to provide...quickly ran to the bank....since this was not planned).

So, when Eunice called, all these thoughts came flooding back.  But, since three years had passed, I wasn't harboring any ill feelings. In fact, I felt sorry for her at the time, leaving without another job. 

What was interesting to me was that when I returned her call, and we got past the initial awkwardness,  I found myself falling back into the familiar.  I appreciated hearing her voice and respected the interest she was once again taking in my family, asking about all of us.  There was something comforting about it.  It felt genuine.  I even put Seth on the phone to say hi....though he's not much of a phone conversationalist.  I invited her to visit us, if she wanted to make the trek from Brooklyn, as she used to.  She said she'd like that.  She wants to see Seth again, and I am curious how Seth will react to her.  We'll see if she makes it over here.  I'll always hold a fond place in my heart for Eunice.  She was there for us during a time when childrearing felt like unchartered territory.  She was there during the potty training struggles, diaper changing, walking, etc....many a milestone.....much of which almost feels like another lifetime ago when Seth was that young.  It went by in a flash.

As a mom who doesn't have a mom, Eunice made me know that I wasn't alone, and there was a lot to be said for that.  We've never had any parental or family help, so having a nanny was the way to go for us.  I'm grateful that we were in a position to afford childcare, and I'm grateful for the fact that we chose a kind, big-hearted person to embrace Seth particularly in his younger years.  Kids can never get enough love, and moms deserve to be supported in any way possible.

Sleepy Heads by Robin Gorman Newman

I thought we'd been there, done that when it comes to sleep deprivation.

When my son was little, we expected to be up during the night with him, but since he recently turned 8, those days are long gone.  Or are they?

In the last week and a half, Seth's been waking up consistently around 3AM, unable to fall back asleep until about 5AM.  My husband I are take turns laying with him in his bed, but to no avail.  We both emerge exhausted, ultimately leaving my son to go back to sleep himself because our laying with him isn't helping.

Seth's been having nightmares.

I posted on Facebook about it, inviting other moms to weigh in and offer advice.

I received some very thoughtful and concerned responses, but it made me realize all the more that while children will be children, and they share that commonality, that's where things end.  What works for one, doesn't necessarily work for another.  And, each has their own way of thinking and evolving.

I tried more than once to ask Seth was he dreamt about.  Mostly he was unable to articulate, except for the night there was a rain and wind storm, and the noise bothered him.  Then he was able to share how he was scared that a tree might fall on our house, which is not all that far fetched since our neighborhood is tree dense, and we have lost power on more than one occasion.  I did my best to try to reassure him that this wasn't going to be a regular occurence (and I prayed it wouldn't be).

A friend mentioned that perhap he had watched something upsetting on television.  That was certainly a logical thought, though I couldn't put my finger directly on anything recent that fit that bill.

Another friend mentioned that at Seth's age, kids become more aware of the world and things around them, cause 'n effect and all.  So, that could be a contributing factor.

While my husband and I tried our best to flesh out the situation given all the wisdom and ideas shared, ultimately I reached the conclusion that we may never know exactly why Seth is in this sleep disturbance phase. Though temporary, there is something endearing about his needing us in that way, like when he was little.

That said, the lack of sleep has been rough for all of us, and with me in peri-menopause, I don't sleep all that well many nights to begin with.  So, I got a brainstorm!  I decided to bring up his fire truck sleeping bag that he received as a birthday present a couple of years ago.  He had yet to use it, and this seemed opportune to break it in and enhance the co-sleeping experience. 

I told Seth I was going to put it on the floor in our bedroom, next to my side of the bed, on our cushy carpet, and if he woke up, he could lay down there with one of his stuffed animals and feel safe.  I crossed fingers it would work, and it did!  The following morning after we launched this effort, I woke up to find Patches, his trusty husky stuffed animal on the sleeping bag, and I could tell Seth had been there.

I was thrilled that at least we have found a solution, if not the cause, and I know that this too shall pass, though there are little pangs in my heart that yearn to hang on to Seth's desire to have us close.

Dreaming Big by Robin Gorman Newman

Can childhood aspirations grow into adult passions?

Mine did.

I had the pleasure this week of taking a trip down memory lane, and it reminded me of the power of childhood dreams and how they can come true if they mean enough to us.

Seth's school is hosting a parent teach-in program, where parents are invited to participate in the classroom to share an expertise.  I enthusiastically seized the opportunity and volunteered to discuss how to write a book.  And, I invited my friend Puzzle Artist Alli to join me (she and Seth are close) to discuss her work as an artist.  We presented back-to-back, and I thought it was a winning combination.  The teachers agreed.

I have lectured a lot about my books, so speaking comes pretty naturally to me.  This was the first time, though, that I was to speak about my work as a writer.

I lecture best when it's off the cuff, so I didn't plan to write any notes.  I did stop by a store for kids that sells a lot of teaching supplies, and I picked up two posters on writing that I thought would be helpful and provide some talking points.  But, beyond that, my intention was to discuss my love of writing (and reading) as a child their age (8) and how it blossomed into my becoming a published author.  I brought along books I had written and illustrated as a child, read a couple of them to the class, and passed around others.

In deciding what to bring today, it brought back a floodgate of memories.  My parents, and I, had thankfully done a good job of saving books I'd written throughout the years, and they are invaluable treasures and lnks to my past.  To see how I expressed myself then and to take note of what I chose to write about is really intriguing.

It also made me recall the preciousness of childhood.  We all grow up so quickly.  And, back in my elementary school days, sure I had homework, but other than that, my thoughts were free to wander (without to do lists racing through my head), and creating stories was high on my list.  My ideas were never-ending because I gave myself permission to think out of the box, and it happened naturally.  It's really amazing how as kids we have the ability to do that, but once adulthood kicks in, and particularly parenting, and all that comes with it on a daily basis, we have to work to  find the time and space to get in touch with our thoughts (which we sometimes censor). 

It gave me immense pleasure to leave the children in my son's class with the message that anything is possible. If you want to be a writer, and you write as often as you can, then your dream of becoming an author is viable.

As adults, we need to hang on to that philosophy. We're never too old to dream big.and reinvent ourselves or rediscover dreams we had when we were young and take the steps to putting them into action.  No matter how old you are, it feels good to pursue your passions. 

And, I for one, want to be a positive role model for my son.  If he sees me feeling fulfilled and doing things (other than parenting) that are important to me, then he'll know that, while life is a juggling act, we deserve to be gratified.

So, other than your efforts to be a good parent, what do you actively pursue (or what would you aspire to accomplish or learn or explore) that feeds your soul?  If you can't readily the question, I invite you to think back to your childhood.  The answer may then readily present itself.