I Am Just Plain Tired by Leta Hamilton

How to beat the too-tired blues.......

Listening to the radio this morning, the woman being interviewed said that we think, on average, around 68,000 thoughts per day and that over 80% of those thoughts were negative. For a mom, my guess is that half of those thoughts center one theme: I’m tired. Because we are tired, our patience levels are lower, our tempers are shorter, our appetites for carb-laden foods is greater, our sense of humor takes a beating and life is just not as much fun. But there is a way to beat those too-tired blues. 

Here is my method:

First of all, I know what I am. In the book Brain Rules by John Medina, he writes a whole chapter on sleep. He describes the different sleeping patterns to which humans adhere. There are “early birds” and “night owls” and a range of patterns in between. The important thing is to understand where you fit in to the scale of early/late risers. With that knowledge, you can more proactively establish your own sleeping schedule that matches what your body instinctively needs. After reading this book, I gave myself permission to go to bed earlier and rise earlier because I was able to confirm to myself that I am an early bird and I do not have to feel guilty for going to bed at 9pm every night. Now, I get the sleep my body wants.

With this change in my sleeping patterns, I have been able to rise earlier and have a bit of time to myself in the morning before the kids wake up. Even with four kids, I am still averaging around an hour to myself in the morning before they wake up. This “me time” has made a huge difference in the overall mood of the day. Things just work smoother when I am rested AND have had that time for my morning coffee with no interruptions between 5:30 and 6:30am.

I use my car for resting. When the kids are sleeping in the car, I rest too. Sometimes I sit in my driveway for an hour or more just lying in the front seat with my eyes closed. It is an irreplaceable opportunity to use the excuse of their sleeping to have some enforced downtime. I can choose to rest, read a book (always have one handy) or check messages on my phone. Whatever it is, my car time is a treasured part of my week.

There is exercise in my life. It isn’t much, but it is scheduled. With an infant, I am spending around 30 minutes each evening walking around the neighborhood. It’s about as long as my husband can supervise a baby that isn’t on the bottle yet. With this time, I move my body and clear my head. Its therapeutic benefits cannot be overemphasized. And, because I do it in the evening, I am finding I sleep better.

Lastly, I give myself the privilege of child-free time in which to accomplish some things that just aren’t easy with kids around. That way, I finish personal projects that have little to do with children. The trade off is we spend a certain amount on childcare every month, but my sanity is saved. Having uninterrupted time in which to write my articles, check my emails and order my groceries online is worth the money we pay in babysitting. It also allows me to recoup some of that expense through doing things that add to the household income. 

There may be things that you do to beat the too-tired blues. I would love to hear them. Share them at www.thewayofthetoddler.com. Until next month, happy sleeping.

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. 

GUEST BLOG POST: Creating Emotional Safety by Ilene Val-Essen, Ph. D.

 

Parents don’t agree on everything, and they certainly don’t need to. But one dream that we all share is that our children enjoy emotional safety. I’m a parent and a grandparent and an author of a parenting book, yet I’ve never let these words roll off my tongue. Still if I describe emotional safety, I think we’ll all agree that this is exactly what we want for our children.

What is emotional safety? It’s when our children feel free to be themselves. They can comfortably express their feelings and concerns, thoughts and interests. And they do this with awareness and respect for others.

Our children gain emotional safety through their experiences with others. When they feel loved, accepted, heard, and trust that their needs will be met, they develop a deep internal experience of safety.

How do we create this rich inner experience for our children?

After working with parents as a consultant and psychotherapist for almost four decades, I’m certain of one thing: Parent’s attitudes—how we think about our children—is even more important than what we say to them. In my book, Bring Out the Best in Your Child and Your Self, I identify two key attitudes. The first:

Children have an innate drive to express their best selves—to develop their highest potential.

Like all living things, children have a natural yearning to grow and mature, to develop their full potential. It’s a part of being human. We all have that inner force that compels us to evolve, to grow not only physically, but to develop all of our unique potential—mental, emotional, social and spiritual. Children and parents want to respect themselves, to be contributing members of the family and society. We all want to find and express our best selves—to become all that we can be.

The fact that we often fall short—that children and adults can easily slip into unproductive behavior—doesn’t mean we don’t have that innate drive! It isn’t easy to express our full potential; we need all the help we can get. And that leads us to the second attitude:

Children depend on us to help them.

They can’t do it alone. Children need us to recognize their yearning and to help them fulfill it. By definition, children are immature—works in progress—still learning how to handle their feelings, develop strength of will and self-control. To support their natural unfolding, they need an environment based on mutual respect.

How can we create this environment? Let me count the ways:

1. Water the flowers, not the weeds. Notice and acknowledge our children’s finest qualities and behaviors. Give attention to that which we want to grow.

2. Hold high, age-appropriate expectations. Strengthen our children’s self-esteem by asking them to live up to their own capabilities. 

3. Follow through. Teach children that we mean what we say and help them to become more cooperative and responsible.

4. Show respect. Help children develop empathy by demonstrating respect for their feelings and thoughts, bodies and belongings.

5. Respect self, others and life. Model sensitivity and care for yourself, others, and our planet and teach children to internalize these values as a normal part of life.

6. Provide positive values. Expose children to those values you want them to adopt, emphasizing the best in human nature and minimizing the excesses in our culture.

7. Teach skills that support emotional safety. Help our children to learn to work through frustration and disappointment, to assert themselves respectfully, to problem solve, and to develop qualities such as courage and persistence.

The bottom line is known to us all: the best formula for creating emotional safety is for our children to see love in our eyes, experience it through our touch, and hear it in our voice.  

  

Ilene Val-Essen, Ph.D., is the author of Bring Out the Best in Your Child and Your Self and creator of the Quality Parenting programs. She is a featured speaker at national and international conferences and recently was quoted in Parents magazine. Visit Quality Parenting http://www.qualityparenting.com and http://www.bringoutthebest.com.

Sleepover by Robin Gorman Newman

My son had his first sleepover at a friend's house. 

While he embraced it, I got a quick dose of empty nest syndrome, and it caught me by surprise.

I didn't think that one night away would inspire such introspective thinking, but it did.

I've long joked about Seth being 8 going on 18, but knowing he was out of the house made that thought seem all the more real.  And, the more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that before I know it, he will be out of the house.  First to hang with his friends who he chooses over his parents...and then for good when he's able to stand on his own, two, lanky, independent Skecher's-clad feet.

No more will he run into my bedroom in the morning screaming "mommy, mommy"....jumping on my bed in glee to give me a hug.  No more will I have to trail behind him picking up streams of toys, underwear, food crumbs, Game Boy games, etc.  No more will I have to remind him endlessly to pee in the toilet versus all over the seat.  No more will I have to coax him into the bathtub using Mr. Bubble.  No more will I watch as the school bus comes and goes with him on it.  No more will I feel challenged to cook a meal that he'll eat with delight.  No more will he curl up his 55 lb. body on my lap as I sit at my laptop in my office.

Raising a child is hard work.  At times it feels thankless and exasperating.  But, I know it's not forever, though he'll always be my son, and his welfare will remain utmost in my mind.

Life is full of phases, and sometimes while we're in them, they appear to move slowly when in reality they fly by.  I find this especially true if I'm enjoying something.  In the blink of an eye, it's over.  Whereas if something is difficult or painstaking, I tell myself, "and this too shall pass," but I don't like to wish time away either...and you never know what is coming around the corner.  So, I try my best to stay in the moment, but we all have our moments that we want to end.

I don't want my son's youth to end.  He's already a big boy, and when I peruse some of his smaller size clothing and toys that I've saved, it feels a bit melancholy.

I know that more sleepovers will follow.  One day at our house as well, which will be a unique experience...having someone else's child sleep here. 

Nothing prepares you for parenthood, and nothing prepares you for the quiet when your child isn't at home.

There are times when I relish the quiet, when my son is at school.  But, then I know he will be walking in the door.

One day, his presence will feel more like that of a visitor.  As he matures, we are working more and more toward that. So, for today, I'm gonna take all the delicious hugs and kisses from Seth that come my way, and deliver them lovingly and generously in return.  There's no time like the present.   And, there's no better holiday present than my son's impish smile, and the pride I take in witnessing his development.

Here's wishing you and your family a wonderful, happy and healthy holiday and new year!! 
If you're on Twitter and a fan of this blog, follow us at @rgnewman.

GUEST BLOG POST: Steve Jobs....Foster Care....and Adoption by Adam Pertman

With seemingly ceaseless regularity nowadays, most recently in the coverage of Steve Jobs' passing, we are inundated by conflicting messages relating to adoption.

For the last few weeks, the wonder of adoption has been on display. November is National Adoption Awareness Month, so media outlets nationwide have written and broadcast stories about children whose lives are improved as a result of moving from foster care into permanent, loving families. President Obama even issued a proclamation, as he and his predecessors have done routinely in past years, extolling the benefits of the process and adding that “we celebrate the acts of compassion and love that unite children with adoptive families.”

At other times, of course, a very different picture is transmitted. Sometimes the focus is on parents who seem to regard adoption as child rental (remember the mother who "returned" her son to Russia?) or ones who purportedly use the child welfare system as a means of getting monthly support payments; the most sensational case took place several years ago in New Jersey, where a couple allegedly starved their four adopted sons in order to retain more of their state subsidies.

Press accounts cast an appropriately suspicious eye on parents who commit such horrid acts but, all too often, they also raise broader concerns about the competence and motives of adoptive parents per se; in particular, they implicitly or explicitly suggest that people may adopt children for dubious reasons or even that adoption itself is somehow a less-legitimate or less-desirable means of building a family. In the coverage of Jobs, for instance, we regularly saw and read reports that questioned his being "given away" by his "real parents" – language that hardly affirms adoption as a positive option.

So which is it? Lucky kids or kids relegated to second-class families? Good people trying to do the right thing for their children, either by placing their children for adoption or adopting them, or desperate people with suspect motives? What are we to think when we receive such disparate impressions, not just this month, but time after time when there's a high-profile story involving adoption? Or even when adoption is depicted in either very positive ways ("Modern Family") or chillingly negative ways ("Orphan") in the movies and on television?

Based on available research and extensive experience, two unambiguous realities emerge: that most adoptive parents are doing the same things as most biological parents – that is, providing their children with all the affection and care they humanly can; and that, with rare exceptions, boys and girls are far better off in permanent families than in foster care, orphanages or any other temporary or institutional setting.

But adoption's history of secrecy has afforded us with too few opportunities to learn about its realities. So we tend to assume we're learning far more from singular, usually aberrational experiences – man bites dog is a story, after all, while dog bites man is not – than we usually are.

Yes, financial payments intended to increase the number of adoptions from foster care can cause complications, but that's the clear exception. And, yes, families sometimes struggle because of the challenges their children face as a consequence of having been mistreated and/or institutionalized before they were adopted. But there is no indication that horrors such as the ones that typically make the news are being repeated with any regularity elsewhere, even though many thousands of parents throughout the country receive state subsidies – and even though the number of children being adopted from foster care is at historic highs.

Moreover, even in the most troubled systems, good things are happening daily. Most children are being reunited with newly healthy mothers, fathers and other biological relatives, while a fast-growing number of kids (over 52,000 last year alone and over 57,000 the year before that) are being adopted by loving parents who treat them very well. The same is true for the hundreds of thousands of girls and boys who have been adopted from orphanages abroad over the last couple of decades.

It's hard to learn much from secrets, so we as a culture don't yet know enough about adoptions from foster care and institutions to put the aberrational stories in perspective. That's changing, to be sure; organizations such as the Evan B. Donaldson Adoption Institute, which I'm proud to lead, are providing more and better research and knowledge – please take a look at www.adoptioninstitute.org to read our most recent work – and, partly as a result, the media are doing a better job of informing the public, policy-makers and others who profoundly affect the tens of millions of children and families for whom adoption and foster care are daily facts of life.

Even as we make progress, however, the still-widespread lack of knowledge has tangible, negative consequences that play out in the attitudes all these people encounter and the policies that impact their lives.

I am not defending any system that does less than everything possible to protect the children within it. But we live in a society in which nearly every program that helps vulnerable children receives insufficient resources; in which well-intentioned quick fixes replace (rather than augment) thoughtful, long-term solutions such as post-adoption services; and in which cases like the ones I've cited above fuel our worst stereotypes about adoptive parents, birth parents, their children, and adoption itself.

A positive and interesting question for the media to explore (but I haven't yet heard it asked) would be something like this: Would the world have had Steve Jobs without adoption?

During National Adoption Awareness Month, states across the country have celebrated by holding public ceremonies at which hundreds upon hundreds of children have received the opportunity to move into permanent, loving and successful families.

I'd like to suggest it's also a good time for all of us to start learning more about adoption, foster care and institutionalization (orphanages), because the problems will be fixed more rapidly if faulty stereotypes are replaced by genuine understandings. And the ultimate beneficiaries will be the hundreds of thousands of boys and girls, in our own country and others, who will still need homes long after we turn another page on our calendars.

Adam Pertman is author, Adoption Nation, and Executive Director of the Evan B. Donaldson Adoption Institute www.adoptioninstitute.org.  Visit his blog www.adampertman.com.

Watching Your Children Suffer by Leta Hamilton

My husband is reading, of all things, a history of the Donner Party (The Indifferent Stars Above by Daniel James Brown for history buffs reading this). I seem to keep picking up this book and reading random passages of unspeakable horror. It has, to say the least, solidified my appreciation of food. What I find particularly hard to fathom is the heartbreak it must have caused those mothers to watch their children slowly fading away before their eyes. And yet, only yesterday, I was faced with a heart break of my own when my 7-year son sobbed uncontrollably after a particularly tough week at school. There is no bully involved, nothing tangible per se to which I can point a finger or in any way “fix.” If only it were that simple. No, it is just a case of a little boy trying to find his way in a big, confusing, world where friendships and school work are not as always as easy as he would like them to be.

As mothers, we will all face moments when we must watch helplessly while our children suffer. Our mothers, no doubt, did the same with us and perhaps it is something that largely went unnoticed. I know my son has no idea how much his tears yesterday have affected me – resulting in no shortage of my own tears and a blog post to boot! If we cannot solve all of our children’s problems, nor do I believe we are really meant to, what can we do when we see our children in pain for which there is no answer?

For me, all that I could offer my son in that moment was the space for him to release his pent up frustrations and obvious sorrow over the difficulty he was facing with the challenges of second grade. Then I was able to go one step further and provide reassurance of my acceptance and unconditional love for him. This may not have been totally satisfactory, but it was enough to see him through the tears and into the evening as a happy 7-year old, safe in the comfort of home. With him finally settled, I did some soul-searching of my own.

Did I have the strength to let him be sad and go through this knowing that part of his journey is to navigate the stormy seas of second grade? My experience of second grade was pretty good. I met my best friend in second grade and she is still my best friend to this day. I don’t remember having much difficulty with school work, but I am not my son and he is not me! I must accept that his experience of life will be unique to his spirit. I do not have to judge what he is currently going through as either good or bad. All I have to do is hold the space for him to communicate his feelings in a safe environment, do what I can when and where it makes sense (like picking him up from school from now on instead of making him ride the bus home) and offer him unconditional love and authentic acceptance for who he is now in the world.

Apart from that, I can continue to do the soul searching I am called upon to do as pain and sorrow arise in my own life experience. I am always and in all ways a role model to my children. They see so much more in my actions than they hear through my words. The women of the Donner party had to find the strength within them to use the meat of their fellow travelers to keep their children alive. I, thank God, do not have to make such a choice. However, as my heart breaks and will no doubt continue to break, over the suffering of my four sons as they become men, I will also have choices to make about how I respond to that suffering. Sometimes it takes the greatest strength of all to do nothing, to let your child pass through a storm and into greater understanding on the other side. All the while, how can I break free of my own chains? With fewer burdens, my soul is free to soar. Now especially, while they are so young, I have the chance to carry them to the mountaintops of personal responsibility and true authenticity.

GUEST BLOG POST: Learning All the Time.....by Kira Wizner

Every day we learn something about parenting. Every day we have the opportunity to make decisions, research ideas, take risks, try things again, and make mistakes.

Every day our children learn about living. For them, almost everything is new. Not only are they learning about being a person, they are learning all the skills that we already have under our belt. I know how to use a metro card, do the laundry, load the dishwasher, pack my purse, and more. Kids don’t. Learning to get to school is as important as what they learn at school.

So how do we support them in this tremendous journey? Reconnecting with what learning feels like, and how it thrives, is one place to start.

Recently, I started riding a bike. I hadn’t ridden in over 20 years, and I had never ridden in the city. I had lots of opinions though about how dangerous it was, had read an article citing a statistic linking helmets to higher fatalities, and I knew my mother (whose opinion still makes me pause) would think it was crazy.

But then, it seemed like riding a bike would be a great thing to add to my life as a mom. So, I bought a bike. I biked halfway to school to see what it was like. A few days later, I biked all the way to school. As I rode I thought about all those moments kids do something new—the first day of dance class, a new gymnastics teacher, and starting each school year. My girls have been excited about things when we’ve signed up, and gotten nervous when we’ve arrived. How do we best support our kids without pushing?

I was hyper aware of this when we started riding together. I used my feelings as a starting point— it was exciting, nerve wracking, totally out of my comfort zone. I pushed myself physically—not such a hard ride but harder than not riding at all. I knew my girls must be feeling something similar. I took on the role of cheerleader those first few weeks—“You can do it!” and “Do you see how strong you are!?” and “This isn’t easy! Do you remember what it was like the first time? Look how far we’ve come!”

I named for them what we did—re-told the story. How they had enjoyed their bikes all summer, how I had Google-mapped the route to school and realized we could bike. How we started slowly, leaving lots of time, and how we got better at all of it, incrementally. Every day we made it from point a to point b—a sure concrete completion of a project. I know the best way to succeed is to feel good—to tap into your strengths, to have a goal.

After a few weeks, we started experimenting with different routes, took turns riding first or last in certain places. We started really enjoying the sun on the water in the morning, learned to take a scarf when it was windy, and stopped on the way home to eat our snack.

Undeniably, authentic encouragement plays a huge role in learning. The claps and nods we get from people we see on our route are encouraging. When we pulled up to school the first few weeks, comments ranged from, “Wow!” to disbelief. School—such a complex place for children. A place they spend 6 hours or so a day, being challenged yet needing to feel safe. Without their parents but still needing adult protection. The girls heard me questioned by so many adults, and heard my answers. They heard me tell the story of how we started, what it’s like: “Yes, they both ride their own bikes.” ; “No, it doesn’t take us too long,” “Yes, she learned to ride last year,” and more. I’m sure they hear the pride in my voice.

Like everything that’s worth learning, it hasn’t been easy. As I write this, we are actually home from a half-day of school because we couldn’t quite manage to get out on our bikes this morning. And the day one daughter crossed behind me and I didn’t see her and then almost fell on top of her? My limbic system, specifically my amygdala, whose job, described by Dr. Dan Siegel “is to quickly process and express emotions, especially anger and fear” took over and expressed both anger and fear—as another mom we know watched me freak out as she glided by with her very young daughter in a bikeseat.

But, learning is how you come back from those moments. An apology, to my daughter, first. A good rest of the ride, second. Debriefing later, re-telling the story and figuring out what happened, third. We can always remember what helps our children—having a goal, the ability to practice, real encouragement and appreciation. We are always learning.

Kira will be speaking at the next Motherhood Later Moms’ Night Out Dinner in New York on November 16th, 7 - 9:30pm.  Write robin@motherhoodlater.com for information.  Her talk will address:


What does it mean to be smart? How do we truly support our children as learners?


Every day we have opportunities to strengthen our children’s ability to live in our world.

• How some people define “smart” and how you can define it to inspire your kids
• How to talk to your children about school, music, sports, art, relationships, etc. to promote and support their own life-long learning
• What parents model about learning—in everyday life, and where you can model behaviors and strategies that encourage your children
• Choosing schools and scaffolding school experiences—especially how you talk about school when it comes home.
• How understanding some brain basics as parents can help you and your kids in everyday living and learning

Kira Wizner is a mom of two and parent coach in New York City. A former teacher at East Side Middle School and staff developer in the NYC public school system, she began an intense study in parenting and child development when she had her own children. Her askyourfriendkira.com site holds a wealth of information on subjects from conception through parenting. She is the founding writer of the monthly parenting column, Family Focus, for the magazine The New York Resident.


Kira leads workshops with parents and preschool teachers, has been part of a parenting group that has met monthly since 2004, and is a certified Girl’s Circle leader. Always learning, she is continuing her parent coaching practice on-the-job and at the Neufeld Institute.



For more, you can visit her website http://askyourfriendkira.com/.

Motherhood, Like a Fine Wine by Margaret Hart

I'm excited to start blogging for Motherhood Later. I've been a professional writer and editor for more than 20 years, but this is my first time as a blogger. In thinking about my qualifications, I guess I've been blogging since I was a kid. In elementary school, my mother said I'd lay on the living room floor and hum, while writing a story or a poem. In middle and high schools, I wrote letters, had pen pals, and like every teenage girl, I kept a diary. In college, I wrote poetry and short stories, and I kept a journal, encouraged by professors during my semester abroad.

So where to begin? A good introduction, I thought, would be the start of my motherhood journey. I was well over 35, but to be honest, I didn't feel older. Being older has been a gift. While other, younger moms were having their first kids, I was observing and learning, and taking mental notes. When it was my turn, I was scared, but calm and more self-assured. My friends would comment how I just didn't seem to get flustered by the baby and toddler years. It's true no one is ever truly prepared to become a parent, but being an older mom definitely gave me advantages often envied by younger moms.

When you get right down to it, though, whether you become a mom at 25, 35 or 50 (a good friend of mine just became a first-time mom at 50!), we are all faced with most of the same challenges and joys of parenting. Still, I often can't help doing the math. When I'm in my 60s, my son will graduate from college, and hopefully I'll still be cool enough to throw him one hell of a graduation party! When he's in his 40s, chances are I'll be in a nursing home, despite my efforts to stay fit and eat right. I probably won't be here for him like my parents are here for me today. That's reality, but I don't have to like it, and it makes me cry. But being a "glass is half full" kind of person, I tell myself I'm doing everything I can to be the best parent, and hopefully when my time comes, I will have left my son with a legacy of independence, strength, courage, and love to face life's challenges without me.

I admit I sometimes feel sorry for myself, wishing I had married younger and started a family sooner. But had I taken that path, I would have missed out on all the bright lights of the big city that I experienced living and working in New York City in my 20s and 30s as a writer and editor, traveling the world for business and pleasure, and not to mention, dancing until dawn at most of the famous clubs of the 1980s. It wasn't a conscious choice, I just lived my life knowing that when the time was right for me to get married and have a family, it would happen.

Today, I don't really think about being an older mom a lot, and I try not to let myself do the math. When I feel my thoughts drifting there, I remind myself that I am blessed with the most incredible little man in the world. I try to refocus, and to just live in the moment, enjoying the simple and complex pleasures of being a mom. As weird as it sounds, I've enjoyed staying up all night changing bed sheets after rounds of vomiting. I wear it as my badge of motherhood! I know I'm stronger having survived my son's severe allergic reaction to penicillin that nearly hospitalized him. I've developed a thicker skin defending my son against bullies and honed my diplomatic skills with parents who have no boundaries for their children. I've also loved every off-key concert performance, and cherished every home-made Mother's Day present. And I have way too may boxes filled with school projects and artwork.

Most of all, I am grateful for the love and laughter my son brings to me every day, and the opportunity to be a mom -- his mom! Speaking of laughter, I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard when, on the way home from a Halloween event, my 6 1/2 year old son handed his vibrating pumpkin lantern to his best friend and said, "Put this on your penis--it feels good!"

For me, motherhood just keeps getting better, like a fine wine! And I drink it every day!

GUEST BLOG POST: Killing the Dream by Amy Wall Lerman

On October 5th of this month, I put an end to my reproductive life.

Having lived through thirteen years of abnormal bleeding which has always taken a toll on my health and quality of life, I came to the painful decision that it was time to take care of myself and stop fantasizing about having more biological children. So after months of deliberating and internal struggle, I decided to have an endometrial ablation which effectively put an end to my ability to bear children. It's a procedure that removes the lining of the uterus so that the endometrium can no longer develop. And, of course, without that valuable lining, a fetus cannot survive and periods cease for good. I'm 46 years old, I'm not menopausal, and while there are many women out there becoming pregnant at my age, either naturally or with the help of medical technology, for me the dream had to be put to rest.

Here is why I made the decision and why it was so hard to get there. When I was 32 years old I started to bleed erratically – spotting for six weeks at a time or heavy bleeding for several days straight – sometimes hemorrhaging to the point of missing work and spending a lot of time on the phone with my doctor. My cycle was never regular and when I did bleed it was almost always heavy and painful.

I was in a relationship when I was 32 but it was a rocky one, and my boyfriend was not ready for kids so I worked very hard with my doctors to keep my reproductive health in tact until I was ready to have a child whether with him or without him (preferably the latter). I always knew having a child would require the aid of reproductive science so I made it my job was to keep my uterus intact and keep the dream alive. Even then I wasn't 100 percent sure I wanted children, but there was no way I was going to let my body dictate my choice.

When I was in a stable relationship at 40 years old my husband and I were told if wanted a child we would have to go directly for IVF and we had no time to waste because age was against my eggs. What? No Clomid? No IUI? Straight for the hard stuff, huh? So we took the doctors' advice and went for it; a couple of times. When I was 42, after IVF with PGD (Pre-Genetic Diagnosis) I gave birth to my beloved Evan – a miracle and a blessing because things were not looking good for us. Out of 9 embryos, only one had normal chromosomes and that turned out to be my little boy.

My story is not unlike many of yours – at least those of you who underwent fertility treatment. What may be different is the level to which I fantasized about becoming pregnant again despite the fact that I did not want to go through IVF again; or the level of grief over the death of a dream, or maybe even my level of masochism at not knowing when enough is enough. When I really thought about it – and oh I really thought about it - I didn't want any more kids. Evan is perfect, and I love being his mommy. He's enough for me. He's my dream come true. But I wasn't ready to kill the fantasy of having a house full of kids; of having a Thanksgiving dinner surrounded by a big family; or of having twenty-five grandchildren 30 years from now. How do I put an end to a dream I've worked so long to preserve?

You'd think I would have made up my mind this past August when, in the ladies room at Disney World, I watched blood run down my legs as I dug for one of my son's diapers so I could make it through the "electric light parade." After cursing-out my husband and going into a funk for the next few hours, I should have called it quits right then and there. I should have realized that if I continued on that path I would not be able to be the kind of mother I want to be, the kind of healthy woman I should be, and the kind of wife my husband would prefer. No, instead I thought I could keep going – keep the dream alive. I wasn't ready to let go even if my health was at risk. Even when I was told I was severely anemic, I still thought I could keep my options open.

What made me change my mind in the end? I think it was something my mother said. She reminded me that when I was 10 years old, she took me for my first bra – much against my will. This was not an exciting day for me. I was a "Tom-Boy" and I did not want to wear a bra. And sure enough I was teased at school and had to tell the little girls snapping my strap that it was a bathing suit for after-school swim class. At 11 years old I got my period. I cried and cried. How would I play kickball now? How would I ride my bike? How would I hide this horrible secret from my friends? I was a shy kid and my developing body would not let me hide. My mother reminded me that I had always felt betrayed by my body - that it had always had a mind of its own and never did what I wanted it to do and things were no different now.

But there is one significant difference this time – and that is that I have control. I can stop my body from doing what I don't want it to do. While it involves a death of a dream, it also involves the birth of renewed life – for me. My quality of life will improve. I will be happier. I will be healthier. I will be the person I want to be – for the first time in a very long time. Periods be damned. This is my time and I'm making the best of it. My family will be a small one, but my new dream is to make it a happy one.

Amy Wall Lerman, Editor the Motherhood Later...Than Sooner eZine, Baby Bloomer, is a television producer, freelance writer and editor. She is the author of several books including The Complete Idiot's Guide to Critical Reading and The Complete Idiot's Guide to Family Games. Her poetry has been published in the online literary journal Patchwork. Amy lives in New Jersey with her husband and 4-year old son.

Staying Healthy in the Fall by Victoria McEvoy, M.D., Contributing Blogger

By now all the children are back at school. Unfortunately, the viruses are back too!

Not that the viruses ever went away, but warm weather and outdoor play leads to fewer viral infections over the summer. Cool temperatures (many respiratory viruses do better in cool temperatures) and closer contact between children cause the cough, sneeze, vomit, fever cycles to gear up again.

What can you do to ensure your child’s health during the Fall?

As always, good hand washing is essential. While some of the hand sanitizers do not actually kill some of the viruses, good hygiene certainly cuts down on infection.

Be sure your child gets enough sleep. Inadequate sleep lowers the immune system’s resistance to infection. Children vary in the number of hours of sleep they require, but parents usually know what their children require. The “whining index” is one measure.

Stress also can lower resistance to infection. Having a stable, predictable schedule without too many activities allows your child to settle into the post-summer routine. Try to shield your child from some of the stresses that you may be feeling as a parent- there is plenty of time for them to experience their own adult dramas later.

A good diet with all the essential food groups will also help the immune system to do its job. If you don’t buy junk food and only offer healthy choices, your child will eventually get hungry enough to eat the foods you offer. If they know that they can hold out for goldfish, then they will!

If your child is ill, keep him home even if you know he got his illness at school or day care. Have a back-up plan for school sick days if you both work because there will be many days when your child will be better off at home.

And, don’t forget to have your child get a flu shot!

So have a good healthy start to the school year and enjoy the remaining warm days.

Dr. McEvoy is the author of “The 24/7 Baby Doctor: a Harvard Pediatrician Answers All Your 
 Questions From Birth to One Year.” 

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." 

What a Difference a Day Makes - By Cara Potapshyn Meyers

Or, more accurately, what a difference a medication can make over the course of one day!

As I ranted last week about my son continually taking off his medication patch for his ADHD, my HUSBAND (yes, the same one who would NEVER, EVER put his son on ADHD medication!) actually put a call into my son’s ADHD doctor to see if we could switch from using the patch medication to a long-acting oral pill. We were given the same medication that was in the patch, but given by mouth once a day instead.

What a difference a day DOES make!

The first day that my son took the pill, he behaved exactly like our son only toned down a few notches. Even better, I discovered that my son has exhibited less overall anxiety and has been far more in touch with his feelings. Instead of blowing up when his anger became too much to handle, he has been much better able to communicate what he wants or needs in the present moment. I have found that ability in him to be remarkable. And it is all due to a tiny, time-release medication. I thank the Heavens that this med is working for my son and working well. I don’t think my husband would tolerate trials of different medications to see which worked best. I have finally discovered my true Angel, only a little more new and improved!! And I absolutely love it!

My son’s ADHD is genetic on his paternal side. His father has it. His Uncles have it. Even his Grandfather has it. Only one of my son’s Uncles is willing to admit he has ADHD. The rest of the family is in denial. My blog today focuses on parents and how they deal with their children’s diagnoses. ADHD is often genetic. As I mentioned above, my staunchly adamant ADHD husband, who was against giving my son ANY form of ADHD medication, now is convinced that we have a “new and improved” child!

The research is quite intriguing. From what I have both researched and personally experienced, parents come in two distinct categories when it comes to their ADHD children. There are parents I have met who accept that their child has ADHD even if the other parent refuses to accept the diagnosis (such as in my case). The accepting parents try very hard to play an active role and be the very best role model they can be when they are with their child. They try their best to educate themselves and learn to work with their ADHD child rather than against him or her.

On the other hand, there are parents who resemble my husband. These parents refuse to acknowledge that their children have any disorders at all. They are harsh with their children, overly strict, and domineering. A combustible combination if there ever was one. Because ADHD children are commonly very intelligent, they recognize that they are not being treated fairly and power struggles ensue. Relationships with these types of parents either never “jell” or they fail miserably because of the parent’s refusal to look beyond themselves and see who their child really is.

I discovered some interesting facts through my research of how parents relate with and affect their children. There are parents who take classes, look for books or articles to read or join support groups to learn as much as they can about their ADHD child. Also, the parents who are accepting of their child’s ADHD should try to educate themselves not only about the disorder, but also about the different types of ADHD and how it affects their child.

According to an article from the Northern County Psychiatric Associates, ADHD has three basic features:

•  Inattention (distractibility, daydreaming or “spacing out”)

•  Physical hyperactivity (fidgetiness, running about, or “flitting” from one task to another)

•  Impulsivity (acting without thinking and many times later regretting it)

The article states, “Children with combined ADHD involve inattention along with hyperactivity and/or impulsivity. This is a classic ‘boy type’ ADHD. These children can be creative and charming, but may require more of the parent’s time and energy.” My son falls into this category. And as an older Mom, I could have told them that these children definitely require much more time and energy!

I am not the only one in a situation where parents are divided on this issue. As the aforementioned article points out, “Some parents may base their opinions on inaccurate or skewed material. In previous generations, there was more stigma associated with mental illness and behavior disorders." If a parent perceived ADHD as shameful, they didn’t want to think that it could appear in their family.

Very unfortunately, there are parents who constantly yell at their ADHD children. Some parents spank their ADHD children. The article goes on to say, “Parents should take special care to avoid such punishment in ADHD children because it can lead the children to become impulsive. These children might get the message that the use of hitting or violence is a way to resolve conflicts. Gentler methods, even if they take longer, provide the child with a model of how to resolve disagreements.”

Parents must strive to use gentler methods and be a positive role model to their children. This was why it was so challenging to discipline my son last week when he was going through his “rebound effect.” His nerve endings were going through withdrawal. It would not have been fair to my son to punish him when he has absolutely no control over his nerve endings! The best I could do was to try to keep him safe until the medication left his system.

Above all, treating the child with respect elicits lasting respect between parents and their children. This is the foundation in every action you have with your child. Especially an ADD/ADHD child. Respect goes a huge way towards fostering a loving, caring relationship with any child and his or her parents.

“Parents can fill an important psychological role in their children’s development,” the article states. “Children tend to perceive the parent’s acceptance as more unconditional. In many cases, the parent can be a source of advice and comfort. Even during adolescence, a child may try to pull away from their parents but because there is still respect, the teen usually will choose to maintain a closeness to their parents.” This is why it is so imperative that parents be encouraged to learn all they can about ADHD and how it affects their children. The more empowered parents feel, the more proactive they can be.

A little bit of knowledge, at any age, can go a long way towards helping children with ADHD feel loved, accepted and successful. And respect can go a very long way to fulfilling lasting, unconditional relationships between both parents and their children. And one day, should your child require ADHD medication, you might see a miracle buried inside of your wonderful child. Then you will agree and be saying, “Wow! What a difference a day (or a medication) makes!”

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.

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?

Mother Pants -- by Laura Houston

Motherhood didn’t always fit me. It often felt too tight. Too restrictive. Awkward. Impossible to zip up.

But this week my pants fit. After moving 3,000 miles away from the home I loved, adjusting to a big, new city, making new friends, missing old ones, and trying to find a place where I sort of fit in, I am finally hitting my stride as a mom.

I had a great week.

Here are a few random thoughts and things that happened:

I learned that my sons are not being rude at the dinner table when they say, “F@#k peas.” They’re actually being polite, asking for a “fork please.”

Most Saturday evenings we meet other parents at the playground across from a luxury high rise. This Saturday I said to one of the dads, “Whenever I see those people all dressed up and getting into a taxi to go see some show or eat at a fabulous restaurant, I sometimes wish I could do that instead.”

And he said, “Every time I stepped out of that building all dressed up and headed somewhere fabulous, and I saw parents playing with their children in this playground, I wished I could do this instead.”

Touché.

I have a pair of mimics. Wyatt and Lyle regularly play with another pair of twins who hail from London. Now they no longer call me Momma. Instead I am now “Mummy” complete with the accent.

I still can’t get Lyle to sleep through the night, but I can calmly get him into bed at 8:00pm. He won’t necessarily go to sleep right away. No. In fact, he cries and whines for the first half hour, but when he finally agrees to sleep, he stays that way for almost six hours. A record!

The boys can count to 12. We live on the 12^th floor, and we always count going up. And going down. Now they do it without me.

They can dance and actually hit the beats.

Instead of throwing the blocks, we are finally starting to build stuff with them.

I gave Lyle a timeout and a lecture along with it, and it actually changed his behavior.

Most nights when Dave comes home I ask him if he wants a glass of wine or a beer, but I didn’t realize how much of a habit it was until Wyatt greeted the babysitter with the line: “Do you want a glass of wine?”

It has been fun.

What changed? Well, sure, the boys are getting older. But I can also credit changes I made. I started exercising again. I had to. I threw out two discs in my back, and I am finally out of pain for the first time in two years. Also, I am working part-time, and that makes my brain work a little better. And there are things to look forward to: swim classes, father's day, vacation, summer in Central Park, not cooking every night because it's too hot, and reading a really good novel.

It feels like I am finally returning to me. And even if my pants don’t fit me like they used to…in that they are way too loose in some places and too tight in others….well….that’s OK. They still pull on easily, and they’re comfortable. Finally. My mother pants are comfortable.

Adoption by Robin Gorman Newman

I saw Kung Fu Panda 2 with my son this week, and boy, did it catch me off guard.

We had come from our local pool, and I was a bit tired 'n sweaty.  The movie theatre posted a large sign stating that due to Con Ed cutbacks, the air conditioning in the theatre was operating at 70 percent capacity.  Once you enter, you can't ask for a refund. 

We weren't able to turn around, so we hoped for the best.  While not as refreshing as I would have liked, it was tolerable, and the theatre was packed.

I found myself feeling fidgety at the start of the film, perhaps due to the seemingly endless frustrating trailers that preceeded.  But, as the movie progressed, more 'n more I was charmed by the camaraderie of the characters, and the scenery and special effects were immensely well done.  I've never been a huge Jack Black fan (the voice of Po, the Panda), but in this film (versus the original),  I took a liking to him.  While I expected some laughs and fast action fighting sequences, what I didn't anticipate was the sentiment.

Kung Fu Panda 2 packs an emotional punch.  If you're an adoptive parent, I highly recommend you see it with your chlid.  My son is 8, and we adopted him domestically from birth.  He knows he is adopted.  We've always been totally open about it.  We've read books on the subject, showed him photos of his birthmom, his birth hospital, town of birth, etc.  But, I can't recall offhand seeing a movie that addressed the subject, and with such heart and humor. 

I got totally choked up and teary-eyed, and had to make a pitstop in the bathroom afterwards to wipe my smudged and running eyeliner. In the film, Po wants his adoptive father, a goose, to explain where he came from, and ultimately, in his quest to save China with his kung fu friends, Po uncovers how he was separated from his parents and discovers what is important in life. He becomes all the more grateful for his friends and adoptive dad.

It was such a beautiful, affecting story....I couldn't help but ask Seth afterwards if he liked it.  He did.  Then, I asked if he could relate since Po was adopted like him.  He replied, "He wasn't adopted exactly like me."  That is for sure.  Seth isn't from China, nor were his birth parents engaged in a battle with an evil peacock (or at least not to my knowledge).

But, what struck me the most from Seth's reaction was that he didn't have an emotional reaction.  To him being adopted is his story, but it's not his life.  It's a no brainer to him. It's not something he thinks much about.  He'd sooner talk about the latest American Idol or Nickelodeon show we watched.  Perhaps one day, he may exhibit greater curiousity, as Po did.  And, if so, we're prepared with even more photos and video, but until then, seeing a movie like KUNG FU PANDA 2 is just that. An entertainment vehicle and story that made him laugh.

Ironically, we saw the film with a friend of Seth's whose parents just adopted an 18 month old girl from Russia.  The mom, a good friend of mine, met us after the movie, and we had a chance to meet her new daugher.  I suggested that one day, when she's able, she ought to see the film, and perhaps even buy the video to share with her daughter as she gets older. I know I'll be ordering a DVD, and I look forward to watching it again with Seth .