Making Our Relationship Work -- by Jamie

Jayda accompanies me to my gym every weekend. First, she joins me in the locker room while I change, and both of us converse with the women around us, who always greet Jayda enthusiastically. Then, Jayda goes into the daycare center to play for an hour or so, while I work out. Along the way, Jayda stops and stares at all the men and women who are training in the gym and bombards all of us with questions, watches the step and spinning classes with obvious fascination, and simply enjoys being in the venue as much as I do—and appears to have a lot of fun with me, chatting and socializing.

The other day, an older woman approached me during my work out and told me that she loved watching me with my daughter and that we “reminded her of herself and her daughter” when her child was Jayda’s age. She then proceeded to tell me about how she had raised her daughter (who is now in her early 20s) by herself following her divorce, and how they had been “buddies” in the way Jayda and I appeared to be. But then she said she “had to warn me that having such a close relationship did have its downside,” and explained that when her daughter had hit her early teens, she’d rebelled. The mother and daughter quickly went from “best friends” to barely speaking and it was a very trying time. She assured me that now her daughter is a successful businesswoman—which I thought meant there was a happy ending to her story—but when I asked, “so now you guys are close again?” she shrugged her shoulders and made a face. She said that now, her daughter’s always so busy and never has time for her mother; she never calls her mom for advice, and always cuts her phone calls short because she “has work to do.” But this, too, the woman warned me, was the “downside of raising her daughter to be so independent,” which she was forced to do as a busy, working single mother. She claimed her daughter didn’t “need” her help or advice because she was taught to be self-sufficient at such an early age.

This woman’s story made me very sad. And the worst part is that she was comparing her family to mine! Of course I don’t know how Jayda’s and my story will “end,” but I’d like to think there are a few important differences that will assure my family of a happier ending than my ill-fated gym friend’s. First of all, though Jayda and I may appear to be “buddies” at the gym, we’re not. I’m Jayda’s mother—and I’m in charge. As difficult as it is to do sometimes, I do make rules and set limits. A single friend of mine recently told me, jokingly, that it was a good thing she wasn’t a mother because “any child of hers would be obese!” She was referring to the fact that she’d never be able to say “no” to candy at the supermarket—and would likely give her son or daughter anything he or she asked for when it came to junk food. I laughed…and then I told her she had a point. It is very difficult to say “no” to Jayda when her big blue eyes are fixed longingly on a bag of M&Ms at the check out counter of CVS. Or to hold my ground as that same adorable girl protests, “but I a good girl, mommy!” after I refuse to let her eat chocolate chip cookies for breakfast. But mommies are supposed to keep their kids healthy…and they’re supposed to set limits. And they’re also supposed to let their kids know that the mommies are the decision-makers—not the kids. Jayda’s “buddy” might let her stay up as late as she wants to at night; I most certainly won’t. In fact, I’m a stickler about Jayda’s bedtime. And though she’ll throw a tantrum now and then—or even shout “I don’t like you, mommy” in a fit of unhappiness—Jayda knows I take care of her—and I always will. And that’s the most important thing in the world to both of us.

Another difference between me and my gym friend is in our concept of teaching our children independence. An independent person doesn’t have to be a disconnected one. Just because I’m teaching Jayda how to take care of herself doesn’t mean I’m training her to never consult me about anything. Hopefully she can follow in my footsteps in that sense: In college, I was independent enough to travel to Australia to study for a semester…but I still “needed” to check in with my parents on the phone at least once a week for support, advice, or even just to share a good story. And now, I’m a mother, myself, raising my own daughter, but I still “need” my own mommy sometimes for help with a problem. Just because I know how to take care of myself doesn’t mean I have to do everything alone. That’s the kind of independence I think every woman should exhibit….and the kind I’m hoping to foster in my own daughter.

Similarly, I think an important part of being able to take care of oneself is knowing how to take care of others. And I’m raising my daughter to do just that. It’s another thing that I hope will keep our relationship thriving until I’m old and gray: Jayda and I take care of each other. Of course as the mother, I’m in charge of the big issues and responsibilities, but there are plenty of ways that Jayda can help take care of me…and she does. For instance, just the other evening, I asked my daughter if she was tired and she said, “No, mommy. Are you?” When I admitted I was “a little tired,” she instructed me to lay my head in her lap and “rest for a wittle while.” She even covered me with one of her baby’s blankets while she sang “Rock-a-Bye Baby” to me and stroked my hair (though I declined the binky she offered). It was a precious moment and I savored it for as long as I could. Then I got up and made us a healthy dinner—with a few M&Ms for dessert.

Missing Men -- by Jamie

When I first considered becoming a single mother by choice, all the books and materials I read warned me about the importance of surrounding my future child with positive male role models. I figured that wouldn’t be such a difficult task, as I knew my generous, loving father would be greatly involved in the upbringing of my child, and I also had a handful of other terrific males in my life whom I could count on. For instance, I’d been assured that my sister's husband would be a strong presence in my child’s life, as he was a bit wary about my decision to raise a child without a father figure, and told my sister that he’d make sure my daughter always had him to lean on. I also had several good male friends whom I knew I could always rely upon, and assumed they would continue to be involved in my life after my baby was born.

When Jayda arrived, my father stepped in, as I'd predicted, and became a doting grandfather and the perfect male role model any mother could want for her child. And it wasn’t as if I could ignore the idea of having men in my child’s life even if I wanted to; from the start, my daughter appeared to adore men wherever we went. As a baby, she'd coo at the busboys when we went to the diner, and bat her eyelashes at our pediatrician during her check ups. When she started her gymnastics class at 18 months, she almost immediately threw herself into the lap of our attractive male instructor. And because of that early love affair, I made a great effort to keep Jayda involved in the gymnastics program, semester after semester after semester—partly because it was a great class, but more importantly because I wanted Jayda to have a weekly connection with a charismatic male teacher who aimed to improve her confidence. But when I mentioned this to one of my married friends—who had lost her own father at a young age—she laughed at me, and told me to relax and not try so hard. She said her own mother had made absolutely no effort to surround her with any positive male role models after her father had passed away, and she'd turned out fine...and you know what? She's right. She’s a strong, successful, well-adjusted woman—and a great mom, herself.

As it turns out, Jayda's uncle, who'd pledged his early devotion to her...well, he's never around. Yes, he does love Jayda in his own way, but physically, he’s more devoted to his job and his friends and his own life, and barely manages to see Jayda more than five times a year. And my once-cherished male friends? I barely speak to them anymore, myself—let alone rely on them for teaching Jayda about what good men should say or do to a woman.

I've always prided myself on having male friends. Just friends. True...maybe sometimes there was a flirty dynamic between me and a few of those guys, but in the grand scheme of things, we really were JUST friends. However, lately, I've felt let down by just about all of them. And it's not that I expected them to all be there for Jayda (though, that would have been nice)...I just expected them to always be there for me. Because while it's nice for a woman to have her girl friends—and good gal pals are certainly irreplaceable—male friends have their significance, too. Especially for strong, independent women—who, let’s face it, are the type of women who generally become SMCs. Because while I often acted a little tough around my guy friends, I was also able to let my guard down and be a little girlie-girl when necessary. And best of all, my guy friends were great about helping me with things. Fixing stuff for me. Giving me advice about things a woman like me knows nothing about: Car engines, mutual funds, hard drives, and a zillion other random-but-important issues and objects. And they did so in ways that are different than when a girl friend helps me out. I’m not saying I’m good at playing the part of a damsel in distress (far from it!), but sometimes a woman needs to have a guy take care of her…even if it’s just a guy friend. And I miss that. But most of all, I simply miss my guy friends.

But I guess not every man wants to hang out with a single mom. And, of course, it’s true, many of my former male friends and I don’t have all that much in common any more. Some of them used to love swapping dating stories with me—and since I’m not the serial dater I used to be, my stories aren’t as plentiful or exciting as they once were. Another former male friend used to drag me to see bands with him every week; I rarely have the time (or the babysitter) to do that, these days. But I wouldn’t mind seeing a show every now and then…if he’d actually ever invite me now! But what disappoints me more than missing the guys, themselves, is that these guys are missing out on the best thing that’s ever happened to me—Jayda. Oddly enough, instead of me needing these men as “good male role models” for my daughter—who I believe is thriving and doing just fine without them, thank you very much!—I feel like they’re the ones missing out on something. They’re missing out on the warm, witty, amazing daughter I’ve been blessed with…and the remarkable mother I’ve blossomed into because of her. And that’s a shame.

As Jayda’s mother, I can see a lot of myself in my daughter. And, similarly, we both like men a lot: We often turn our heads to take a second look at them, find many of them attractive and charming, and we certainly like to flirt with them. We know there are some good ones out there, and, unfortunately, some not-so-good ones. And all I can do is continue to encourage Jayda to become a strong, confident, intelligent woman—and hope she’ll make the right choices in the men she befriends. But as for “surrounding her with positive male role models,” I’m not going to force the issue. Jayda has plenty of people around her who love her—and it doesn’t matter whether they’re women or men—as long as she can count on them. And she can always count on me. That’s enough.

GUEST BLOG POST: Banish Common Parenting Myths - by Elizabeth Pantley, author The No-Cry Discipline Solution

As if it isn't challenging enough to raise children, most parents believe myths that make them feel confused and inadequate. These horrible myths can spoil the joy of raising your children. You may have never realized how intensely these beliefs affect you, but they do. After you identify the myths that color your daily life, learn the truth about each one. By acknowledging that these myths exist in your life, you take the first step towards eliminating them. Learning the truth will erase your doubts and leave you open to learning effective new ways of raising your children. Here are a few of the most common parenting myths:

MYTH: If a parent is truly attached and committed to a child, then that child will behave properly.

TRUTH: You could be totally committed to your child from the moment of birth. You could do absolutely everything right. In fact, you could be a magnificent, spectacular, utterly faultless saint, and your child would still misbehave. The truth is: ALL children misbehave. ALL children make mistakes. ALL children will have temper tantrums, whine and fuss. It’s part of the process of growing up.

REALITY CHECK: Love your child, and do the best you can. And don’t let normal misbehavior wear down your confidence. Give yourself and your child enough room to be human.

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MYTH: If you love your child, and if your intentions are good, parenting will come naturally to you.

TRUTH: Loving your child is easy. Raising your child is hard. Effective parenting skills are learned. Parenting is complicated, intense, and ever-changing. In order to be a calm, effective, parent you need knowledge and skills, but almost no one is born with these skills.

REALITY CHECK: Just like driving a car, mastering a computer program, or becoming skilled at any sport or hobby – good parenting is something we need to learn. You can learn by trial-and-error – but that can be wildly frustrating. Instead, take a class, read a book, join a support group – you’ll be amazed to find that a few good tips can make your life much easier.

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MYTH: You should read baby books and take a baby care class when you are a new parent, after that you’ll figure out how to raise your child on your own - through experience.

TRUTH: Taking care of a baby is our first step in the journey of parenthood. Just when we feel confident with our skills for raising babies, we turn around to find many of the things that we’ve learned do not apply to a walking, talking toddler. We adjust our approach, only to find that disrupted when our toddler turns into a preschooler, and again when he becomes a grade-schooler, and again when he enters the teen years . . . and yet again when our child graduates and moves on to college or adult life.

REALITY CHECK: We actually have a brand new parenting job each time our child passes from one milestone to another in his life. Just like any other undertaking, the more knowledge you have at each step of the way, the more confident you will feel and the easier your job will be, and the better your life-long relationship with your child.

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MYTH: If parents are a perfectly matched couple, and they have a strong relationship, then they will agree about how to raise their children.

TRUTH: It’s very common for two parents, even those who are perfectly matched and in a happy relationship, to disagree about child-rearing approaches. Some may disagree about baby care issues, yet others will be perfectly in sync during the baby years and then find they are at odds when their child becomes school age or enters the teen years.

The way that we approach child-rearing is influenced by our own past experiences – both the things we choose to do, and the things we try to avoid. It is nearly impossible for two people to be in perfect agreement on every parenting decision.

REALITY CHECK: Even when we agree on basic fundamental parenting theory, we might slightly disagree on approach. Even if we agree on approach, our differing personalities guarantee that we won’t always handle things in exactly the same way. Good communication and ongoing discussion can help any couple to find agreement on important issues as they raise their children.

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MYTH: Good parents don’t lose their patience and yell at their children.

TRUTH: Even the most peaceful easy-going parent loses patience and yells from time to time. No matter how much we love our children, they will try our patience, they will make mistakes, and they will make us mad. All children have their “naughty” moments. And, guess what? When children are “naughty”--- parents lose their patience and they YELL.

REALITY CHECK: It’s normal to lose your cool and yell at your children, but it isn’t fun and it isn’t productive. Take the time to learn a few new anger management skills and some parenting tools. These will help those angry moments become less intense and less frequent.


Take some time to think about these and other myths, theories, ideals and expectations that you have believed. Ponder where these beliefs originated, and why you believe them to be truth. Then contemplate what you learning about the truth of the matter. When you analyze myths and replace them with your own truth, it can help you to approach parenting in a more honest, uncluttered and enjoyable way.

Excerpted with permission by McGraw-Hill Publishing from The No-Cry Discipline Solution (McGraw-Hill 2007) by Elizabeth Pantley http://www.pantley.com/elizabeth.

White Christmas -- by Cara

There is something about having a young child in the home that brings a little extra excitement to a holiday. Especially Christmas. Especially when it snows.

We had a blizzard run through the East Coast, where we live, this past weekend, which prompted my son to insist that Santa and his reindeer were coming! He was so sure, that he kept stopping in his tracks to say, “Shh! I hear reindeer!,” several times that night! I tried to repeatedly explain that Christmas wasn’t for a few more days. But he tenaciously insisted that if it snows, especially a lot of snow, then Santa would be on his way!

I bought ingredients to make cookies for Santa later in the week, but my son couldn’t wait. The only cookies we had in the house were Nilla wafers, so my son pushed a chair to the cabinet where we have the special “Santa plate,” took it out, put Nilla wafers on one side for Santa and baby carrots on the other side for the reindeer. He then brought the plate to a small table in our Living Room and pushed the table near to our fireplace.

Next was fireplace redecoration. All of the decorations that were in front of the fireplace had to be moved. Unfortunately to the middle of the Living Room. My son is quite lucky because I didn’t have a fireplace in my home growing up. We had to concoct a pretend one! Next, my son had to gather my assistance in hanging up everyone’s stockings on the mantel. Bye, bye Hanukkah display, hello stockings!

When my son was sure that everything was in place for Santa to come, he excitedly went to bed, but had a hard time falling asleep.

At exactly 4:45 am, I felt little hands pushing all of the blankets and covers off me (why do children do this to their mothers and not their fathers??). He was terribly excited that Santa had come and he wanted me to go downstairs with him to see if Santa had left some presents. I groggily told my son that I was pretty certain that Santa hadn’t come yet. But my excited little boy pushed the blinds to one of our window’s aside and exclaimed, “But Mommy!! Santa had to come!! There is so much snow outside!!” THAT part he was certainly right about...at least a foot of snow blanketed our backyard! And even at 4:45 am, you could see the wonder and the beauty of it!

To satisfy my son’s endless curiosity as to whether Santa had arrived, I went downstairs with him to see if there were any presents. To my son’s utter dismay, no presents were in sight and the Nilla wafers and carrots remained untouched. My son sulked to his room and I tucked him into bed, assuring him that in just a few short days, Santa WOULD be coming. And the magic of Christmas would be upon us!

He fell back to sleep, and I couldn’t help but think back to my own memories of trying to stay awake to hear reindeer hooves on the roof. Or to climb out of bed before anyone was up and search every present for ones that had my name on them!

The same scenario will occur tomorrow night! Snow will probably still be blanketing the ground. Homemade cookies and fresh carrots will be put out. Decorations will be removed from in front of the fireplace. And at approximately 4:45 am, little hands will be anxiously pushing covers off of me so that I can join my son in the REAL magic of Christmas!

Happy Christmakkah! by Jamie

As a Jew, I’ve always embraced the traditions of Judaism, but not necessarily its religious aspects. For instance, I don’t go to temple, was never Bat Mizvahed, and must admit that most of my Yom Kippur fasts have been solely weight loss-driven. However, I do know (and often use) a few dozen Yiddish words, wish just as many friends a “sweet” New Year around Rosh Hashanah as I do on January 1st, and truly “kvelled” over giving my daughter a Hebrew name at a baby-naming ceremony. I may not “practice” my religion all the time, but I certainly appreciate it—the holidays, stories, and most of all, the familial bonds (and, well, the food, too!). And as the mom of a toddler, I really look forward to starting—and continuing—traditions with my daughter for all of the Jewish holidays.

That said, hooray for Hanukkah! This is the first year that Jayda, at 2-1/2, can really join in—and begin to understand—our holiday celebrations. I have a special Crayola crayon-shaped menorah to light with her, eight presents to give to her on each of the eight nights, and a family Hanukkah dinner planned, with home-made latkes headlining the meal. I’m looking forward to it all. But I’m not looking forward to competing with Christmas.

I’m no Scrooge, and I certainly understand the appeal of Christmas; I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t admit to that. My mother’s mother was Irish-Protestant, until she gave up her religion for my Jewish grandfather. However, she never stopped celebrating Christmas, and my own mother carried that tradition into our home. When I was growing up, we celebrated Hanukkah, but we also had a Christmas tree, left cookies for Santa on a table near the chimney, and woke up on Christmas morning to a pile of gifts. It made sense because it was a part of my mother’s upbringing, but for me, as a single Jewish mother, it doesn’t make sense anymore. There’s no reason for me to have a Christmas tree in my home, or even teach my child to believe in Santa Claus. But I fear it’s going to take a heck of a lot of work to get Jayda to understand that Hanukkah is “just as much fun” as Christmas.

A few weeks ago, Jayda pointed to a picture of Santa Claus and asked me, “Who’s that?” Moments later, she gestured to a picture of a Christmas tree and said, “What a pretty tree!” I explained to her as best I could who Santa Claus is, and why that tree was covered with decorations, and she soon lost interest. But I know that was just the beginning.

Let’s face it: We live in a Christmas-focused world. Every street in our neighborhood is filled with Christmas lights, huge fusses are made over Christmas tree lighting ceremonies, and our stores are swarming with Christmas-themed decorations, gifts, toys, and candy. True, there are Hanukkah books that I can read to Jayda, and occasionally I’m able to find a TV special airing which focuses on our holiday. This past week, I was especially thrilled to discover that at Jayda’s daycare, they had a Hanukkah unit: All week long, Jayda’s class read stories about the holiday, made crafts, and even enjoyed Hanukkah treats. But it still doesn’t compare to the Christmas craziness that will be saturating the same daycare—and everywhere else—in upcoming weeks.

Because my childhood included Christmas celebrations and I “had the best of both worlds,” I never really noticed the lack of Hanukkah hoopla around us, but I’m pretty certain my own child will. Perhaps I’m worrying needlessly, but I hate to think Jayda will feel like she’s missing out on something just because we’re Jewish. I know the best I can do is embrace our Jewish traditions, as I do, and pass my enthusiasm for them along to Jayda. Hopefully then she’ll appreciate who we are—and what our holiday means. This Hanukkah, I know Jayda will be doing plenty of celebrating, enjoying her family, and receiving lots of great gifts, and that’s a tradition no one should find reason to complain about.

Learning from a Toddler--and Losing Inhibitions -- by Jamie

While I’ve always been a rather social person—and a very talkative one at that—I’ve never been overly-confrontational. Or even a very outspoken person when I’m in public, or interacting with strangers. And I certainly possess my share of inhibitions. But having a child has brought countless changes to my life, including giving me the guts to say or do many things I wouldn’t have done before I had Jayda.

I adore the fact that my 2-1/2-year-old daughter is completely uninhibited. She loves to take off her clothes in the house and, as she calls it, “be a naked baby.” She struts around with her belly sticking out, and could care less about who’s watching her. As a woman who’s suffered through years of disordered eating in the past, I find it lovely to see someone who has absolutely no body image issues. Jayda does happen to be a beautiful child, but it’s liberating to know that fat or thin, pretty or not, Jayda gives no thought to what she looks like, and certainly doesn’t stress over what she eats. She’s comfortable in her own skin. We should all be so lucky.

Best of all, Jayda loves to belt out the words to songs she knows (even when those words are all garbled and wrong)—whether we’re alone or in public. Personally, even with a couple of martinis in my bloodstream, I’ve never had the guts to sing karaoke, and I marvel at my daughter’s chutzpa. She dances with abandon, says whatever is on her mind, and doesn’t think twice about questioning anything and everything (and anyone and everyone!). True, she’s a toddler and knows no better. But I find her actions quite enviable.

Fortunately, being a mom to Jayda has changed my personality, too. Because I discovered it’s important to talk to your children to foster their speech development, even when Jayda was only an infant, I chatted constantly with her in public. When Jayda was not yet talking, I uttered endless monologues to her, and now, I engage her in complex conversations out loud—sometimes quite loudly—in public places like the supermarket, the doctor’s waiting room, and even the library. And when Jayda asks me to join her in singing a song, I oblige. I’ve also been known to spin around in circles with her—or do a jig with her in the middle of a crowd (and I’m someone who has always had two left feet). Being with a child can definitely bring out the child in you—as well as a child’s lack of inhibitions.

Before I became a mom, there were many times when I felt intimidated by authority figures and didn’t speak up about things that bothered me…or times when I was a bit shy about asking for something I needed. That’s not true anymore—especially when it comes to Jayda. When I need an emergency appointment at the pediatrician’s office, attention given to a problem Jayda’s having at daycare, or am bothered by a myriad of other things whose resolutions are important to my child’s well-being, I’ve developed a very big mouth. I’ll pursue important people, confront troublemakers, and even insist on changes being made where they’ve never been made before, if doing so will improve my daughter’s life. And I’ll do so with absolutely no hesitation. Just as a momma bear is protective of her little cub, so am I: I’ll growl at anyone who puts my child in harm’s way. It’s a gift Jayda’s given me…and I’m doing my best to use it as much as I can.

Surprising Discoveries -- by Jamie

A few days ago, my daughter, Jayda, turned 2-1/2, and, just as she did from the start, my willful child continues to keep me on my toes, and surprise me.

On the morning of May 18, 2007, after experiencing a rather easy pregnancy, I found myself at my OB/GYN’s office, because I was a few days past my due date. At the end of the exam, my doctor instructed me to go to the hospital at 6 p.m. that night so he could induce me; he said it was unwise for me to wait any longer, and that it was time for Jayda to come into the world. But, at brunch with my parents just a few hours later, I started to feel cramps. The cramps persisted, and then worsened on the ride home, and later that afternoon, when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I agreed to go to the hospital early. There, I discovered I was, indeed, in labor—and there would be no need for an inducement.

After settling into the hospital, and receiving a much-needed epidural, I assumed I could relax for awhile. But shortly after I started to get comfortable, everything went awry. My fetal monitor went off, the attending nurse covered me with an oxygen mask, and before I knew it, my hospital room had turned into an episode of ”ER”—with doctors frantically rushing in and wheeling me out to an OR. I found out later—after Jayda was quickly brought into this world by an emergency C-section—that my monitor had indicated that my daughter had gone into distress, and my swift doctors had jumped into action and saved her. So, what started as a possible induction and continued as a “normal” labor, was resolved with a C-section; even at birth, Jayda was full of surprises.

The morning of Jayda’s 2-1/2 birthday began with my daughter and me cuddling in my bed. As usual, Jayda prodded me to “talk about our day,” and I gave her a preview of her upcoming school day, as well as our afterschool activities, which involved a play date. When I was finished, she gave me a hug and declared, “Mommy, you my best friend!” It was one of those unexpected gems that often comes out of Jayda’s mouth these days—a surprising reminder of what a sweet, articulate little person my daughter is becoming.

When we got out of bed that morning, Jayda insisted on wearing underpants under her leggings. We’d been potty training for awhile, but Jayda usually ran around the house in a pair of pull-ups, or completely nude from the waist down, most mornings before we left for daycare. I relented though, helped her put on her princess undies, and took her with me on a ride to Dunkin Donuts for coffee. Then, we came home for a few hours, and Jayda remained dry the entire time. She even asked to use the potty twice, successfully, before leaving for daycare. But as I went to change her into a pair of pull ups before we left the house, she threw a fit, and refused to take off her underpants. “I a big girl now,” she declared, and, as I looked at the calendar and noticed what day it was, I couldn’t help but agree. Thus, my willful child won this battle, and sported her princess undies at daycare for the very first time.

Later that day, Jayda surprised me again, when I picked her up from daycare and found her in unsoiled clothes, still wearing her treasured underpants. She even requested that she wear her underpants to school the next day, too. My little girl really is a “big girl” now. And while I’m not surprised that Jayda is growing up, I AM surprised by how quickly it’s happening, and how determined my daughter has already become to be “her own little person.” Fortunately, it’s a person who constantly amazes me with her humor, intelligence, and sensitivity—and a person whom I love more and more each day. And while I’m not so sure she’ll think of me as her best friend forever, maybe she’ll surprise me. I sure hope so.

Dancing for Joy -- by Robin

I'm taking an acting class through the local adult ed, and it's really a challenge in more ways than one.

A novelist/playwright friend of mine in town suggested it because she knows I aspire to write a play ("Mensch: The Musical" based on my book HOW TO MARRY A MENSCH...which means decent person). She thought it could help with dialogue, etc.

I have to admit I had no idea what I was getting in to. In high school I was involved with theatre. I served as Prop Master for the production of Arsenic and Old Lace. And, when they did Anything Goes...despite not being a singer.....I auditioned and got selected as an Angel. It was fun, and I got to wear some glamorous/borderline sexy attire....a far cry from my stretch pants and t-shirts of mommyhood. I loved it. And, have always enjoyed hanging with theatre people. Theatre is one of my true loves. To this day, I can't get enough of it. And, I've taken playwriting classes which I've enjoyed, and would love to study further.

All that said, when I signed up for the adult ed acting class, I didn't know what to expect. And, what I've found is more than what I saw coming, and it's frankly....invigorating!

The instructor, who is very experienced and talented, puts a lot of effort into coming up with exercises each week, and homework assignments. This week, she brought in a CD player and announced that she was going to play the music of her rocker godson, and we were to move. Then, move more! she proclaimed. Then, respond to someone else's movement, she said. So, basically we were dancing in what, by day, is a kid's classroom. And, it felt freeing. I was not worried about being self-conscious (okay...maybe a tad). But, I didn't have much time to think about it. And, it was cool. I lost myself. It took me back to my single days when I used to go dancing (in my 20s,) wearing heels and all. Now I found myself momentarily wondering if I even remembered how to dance. How did I dance back then? Were my movements the same or close to it?

I don't go dancing anymore. It's not that I wouldn't want to (though I'm not big on wearing heels anymore). It just doesn't arise...except if we go to a wedding.

Isn't it interesting how at different phases of our life certain activities come and go?! I can understand if, as you age, physical challenges and limitations set in. But, if that's not the case, then why do we cease pursuing particular activities that we once enjoyed? Did we forget we liked them? Have we lost track of what brings us pleasure? Are we so caught up in being "busy" (whatever that means) to even think about inviting joy into our lives?

I was watching actress Kate Hudson, daughter of Goldie Hawn, interviewed on Oprah this week, talking about the upcoming movie Nine. In it, she has a big song/dance number, and while she was super nervous and doesn't consider herself a singer, she was well-trained and pulled it off with aplomb. Oprah asked her, "Are you always so joyous? Whenever you come on the show, you seem that way. " Hudson explained how she was raised to feel things deeply and then seek out the joy. What a great life lesson she got and can pass on to her young son.

How hard is it to blast the music in your own home or ipod and let loose in the privacy of your home if you like? Dance for joy. Let it rip! And, who knows what else might come up for you?

As a child, I loved to make pot holders, crepe paper flowers and other artistic items. I even remember being an entrepreneur back then and setting up a flower/pot holder stand in front of my house, in an attempt to sell my wares. I was quite crafty, and to this day, would probably enjoy crafts, but I don't allow myself the time to pursue it.

I'm so focused on productivity and life responsibility, that doing something just for fun doesn't
regularly cross my mind. I do think of things that my son would find fun. And, we have fun together. But, his idea of fun isn't always mine. And, while that's ok....I envy his ability to relish playtime and focus on that and nothing else when he'e engaged. I, on the other hand, often have racing thoughts going through my mind of all I have to or have decided I need to do/accomplish. But, what would happen if I didn't? What if I put something aside? How would that feel? I'd like to find out.

I wonder what my acting teacher will have in store next class?!

In Support of Support Groups -- by Cara

I tend to be a quiet and reserved type...not terribly outgoing and mildly social. But for some reason, I am attracted to support groups. Particularly support groups for Moms.

Since my son was an infant, I participated in a myriad number of different groups. Some groups were informative, but I didn’t “click” with most of the Moms. Other groups had members who I felt had different issues and/or a focus to the group that I just wasn’t looking for.

I was thrilled to find Motherhood Later...Than Sooner because not only did I find a lovely group of Moms I have kept in contact with, but my son has become friendly with some of the sons of other “Later” Moms as well!

This past weekend, I went away with a large group of Moms on what I term a “Mommy Retreat.” There were quite a large group of us...150 to be exact, and I found comfort being amongst so many diverse but dedicated Moms.

There were workshops where we each had a turn to divulge a dirty little secret about being neglectful about our mothering. I happened to have divulged SEVERAL dirty little secrets! And the bonding and camaraderie that was taking place in that room at that moment allowed each and every one of us to say, “We ARE good mothers! We’re just not perfect ALL of the time! It was so refreshing to say out loud, “I slack off occasionally and my child still survives!!” Some participants were even trying to “one up” the one who “confessed” before them! We all left, happy, giggling, with a huge weight lifted off our shoulders!

There was also a woman comic who had the entire audience falling over with laughter as she played out daily scenarios that occurred in her home, tongue-in-cheek style! What a great way to start out the retreat and break the ice regarding all the taboos that go on in each person’s household, but no one wants to dare bring the topics up! Well, this lively comic did, and we cheered her on endlessly!

I left this retreat saying goodbye to friends old and new. Learning more about myself and learning more about other miscellaneous topics such as social media! But I mostly reinforced that I love to come together with a group of Moms who understand the pressures of parenting and want to help each other through it as well as spend time remembering who WE are as people, as individuals, and not just someone’s wife or mother!

I came home to a Parenting Workshop to go to at my son’s school the very next day where we really got into a hot debate about parenting and homework issues. Some Moms literally couldn’t understand why homework wasn’t “fun” in every household. Other’s of us moaned in agony just thinking about doing homework with our child. I exclaimed that I had such a horrendous year with my son last year that just THINKING of homework this year gave me post traumatic stress disorder symptoms! This one Mom shot back, “Well, then you’re just doing something wrong.” It was a good thing that the social worker moderating the group knew of my struggles last year and effectively put this other Mom in her place. Still and all, I came out of this workshop empowered and ready to take on the task of parenting in a way only I know is effective with my child!

The NY chapter of Motherhood Later Than Sooner will soon try to gather interested parents into support groups with a highly educated facilitator. I was at a group this facilitator ran and found it filled with energy and bonding where we all wanted to jump into the conversation at once! It was invigorating! I left feeling better about myself than when I first arrived! Maybe you’d like to give a support group a try? And if one isn’t a good fit, move on to another. As for me, I am looking forward to participating in the NY chapter support group and see how it turns out! As they say, you can always learn something new every day!

No Time to Waste -- by Jamie

As I’ve articulated here before, the experience of dating as a single mother is quite a bit different than dating as a single woman without a child. For me, both logistically—and emotionally—it’s a lot more difficult.

That said, ever since Jayda was born, all of my dating has evolved at a much slower pace, since the act of actually setting up a date is complicated, and involves a sitter and a lot of Jewish mommy guilt. Consequently, as a single mother, I haven’t had a serious relationship with anyone yet. This has been partly out of choice—I often feel I don’t have the time to devote to anyone else but me and Jayda—and partly because I haven’t met anyone whom I could actually picture myself with long-term (especially with Jayda in the picture). And I don’t have the spare time to spend on Mr.-Nothing-Special anymore.

In the past, I dove into a myriad of forced-dating ventures—went to singles events, visited all types of online dating sites, and even tried speed-dating. But, a romantic at heart, I always pictured myself meeting Mr. Right in a not-so-pressurized setting—at the gym, in a coffee shop, or at some other chance meeting.

Once I had Jayda, I felt a lot less pressure to “have to” meet a man quickly; my attitude instead, became, that I’d simply like to meet a man…and if it didn’t happen soon, that would be fine, too. But, regardless, I’ve always had a vision of meeting Mr. Right-for-Both-Me-and-Jayda at a family-friendly outing. At the playground…or a PTA meeting…or some place where I’d find a doting single dad taking care of his own child. The commonality of being parents would bring us together (and there’s also the fact that I find doting dads extremely sexy!).

Fast-forward to a few weeks ago when I met a single dad at a local town fair. Our children (both young girls) presented a great conversation starter, and that led to a flurry of emails between us over the following weeks. We finally met for breakfast the other day…and our 9:15 meeting abruptly ended at 12:30, when we both looked at our watches and realized Single Dad was late for a meeting! It’s been a long time since I’ve lost track of time like that, and even longer since I’ve been on a date where both of us had so much in common, had so much to talk about, and clearly enjoyed each others’ company (and had no hesitation in admitting that to each other). Though it seemed to take us eons to get together for that “first date,” neither of us wasted any time cutting to the chase. Single Dad effusively told me he hasn’t remembered having such a good time in ages, and that he can’t wait to see me again. I agreed.

I left the date knowing I’d hear from Single Dad soon, and that we’d go out again. I did. And we will. And that’s one nice thing about dating as a single mother; there’s no time to throw away on nonsense. These days, I can’t waste a moment sitting by the phone, waiting for it to ring, or wondering if a guy is “just not that into me.” I’m honest now—and anyone whom I’d like to date is honest with me, too. Single Dad told me that up until our breakfast date he hadn’t called me because he’d been afraid of rejection—that if he didn’t reach me directly, I might not call him back. But I told him—and I meant it—that if I didn’t want to call him back, he’d know it. I don’t have time to play games. And any Mr. Right-for-Both-Me-and-Jayda won’t have time for that either.

I’m looking forward to getting to know Single Dad. And I’m hoping, someday, Jayda might get to know him, too. He appears to be a really great father, and a good, honest man. He has a lot of potential, and I’m happy to invest the few extra moments I do have, in finding out more about him. I suspect it will be time well-spent.

Do I Want to Be a Grandmother at 50? by Cara

Every once in a while I go on to Facebook to catch up with the happenings of friends near and far. Invariably, I get one of those silly quizzes that pop up. What kind of dog are you? What does your name mean in Japanese? Just as invariably I take a quiz or two if I have the inclination and the time. I found out, incidentally, that my name in Japanese means, “Love Child.” Well, okay, whatever. At least it doesn’t mean, “Burning Sword.”

In any event, I received a quiz from a newly aquatinted friend titled,”Questions About Me.” It was a rather lengthy questionnaire, but after reading the questions and responses my friend had put down, I decided to take the time to answer the questions myself and pass the quiz back to her.

Many of the questions were rather benign, however I almost choked when I read one of the questions two-thirds into the questionnaire. “Would you like to be a grandparent at age 50?” AGE 50??!! I’m 46!! My son is 6!! That would mean that my son would have to impregnate some girl at age 10!!!! NO, I don’t want to be a grandparent at age 50!!! But this got me to thinking. When WOULD I want to be a grandparent?

If I had my son at age 40, and statistics and trends are pointing to later in life marriages and births, what age will I reasonably be a grandmother? I have every hope that my son will attend college. And I would be even more grateful should he decide to go to graduate school or go on to get a professional degree. Would he marry at 25? 30? 35?

My father was an “older” parent and had the joy of seeing my son born at age 86. He had three beautiful years watching my son through his baby and toddler years. And for some unknown reason, even though my father was severely hard of hearing, it didn’t matter one lick to my son nor to my father that they didn’t understand one another. They communicated in a higher form called love.

I think my father and my son had a bond that has continued to transcend his demise. And my son continues to reflect on him with fondness and yearnings of love. I would hope that my son might choose to have children at a slightly younger age than me. It would give me great pleasure to see my grandchildren grow for at least a decade! I could do a lot of “spoiling” in a decade!! (And, yes, I know that only food gets spoiled...but you get my drift!)

But, if my son has a child or children later in his life, as I did, perhaps I, too, could capture a bond of love that would transcend the corporeal. That would make me immensely happy too. Side by side with my grandchild, bringing me a leaf or a stone found on the ground and presented as a gift. Through love that is boundless. Sometime the innocence of the young and the old, brought together, can mean more than spending years trying to establish a relationship with a relative you have a difficult time getting along with.

Well, I have a “few” more years before I need to worry about becoming a grandparent. And incidentally, anyone who draws up a questionnaire with a question such as this, must be, oh, say, 20?

The Disillusionment of Halloween -- by Cara

I really love this time of year! I love the changing colors of the leaves; I love the small piles of colorful foliage gathered on the side of the road; I love picking special leaves of different shapes and colors to make Fall crafts with my son. I also love seeing houses dressed up with mums and pumpkins on their walkways or steps. And I love all of this the best on a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day so that you can see the bold colors of Fall against the azure blue of a cloudless sky! Nature in all it’s splendor before the cold, dark winter settles in.

My son loves this time for a different reason, he loves running in the fallen leaves and the collecting of some pretty ones to make a craft project or two. But he especially loves this time of year because of Halloween! He has cartoon Halloween DVDs which we watch together each year. We savor the Halloween television programs that aren’t too scary! I decorate his room with Halloween sheets and ghost throw pillows. Then we make Halloween crafts to decorate his room some more. And we always have to count down the days until Halloween arrives!

Well, today is Halloween. And my son had a splendid day meeting up with friends to go Trick-or-Treating! He met more friends from school along the way! At one point, he was tired and hungry, so my husband offered to take him out to get a meal while I went food shopping.

For many years now, I have put out a stand and a container of candy with a cute note welcoming the Trick-or-Treaters, kindly requesting that they leave some candy for those who come after them. Knowing that Halloween would be falling on a Saturday this year, we stocked up on six giant, Costco-size bags of candy! Three were more expensive bags of candy and three were less expensive, mixed candies. I got in the habit of putting bowls of candy outside because when my son was younger, if he was taking a nap, I didn’t want the doorbell to ring and have the dogs bark, waking up my son. As my son became older, I would still put out candy because we would be out ourselves Trick-or-Treating and visiting with relatives to show off our little goblin in his costume!

Then, a few years ago, I noticed that I would fill up, what used to be, a white wicker basket, lined with a Halloween theme bandana, and place it outside on the stand at night, only to have the doorbell ring twenty minutes later by a sweet teen Hannah Montana noting that there wasn’t any candy left in the basket. So I gave her a generous amount and refilled the basket again with the last of the candy, only to find that again, twenty minutes later, the doorbell would ring again, and the basket was empty. I had to kindly explain that we ran out of candy but once the tweens left, I remembered that I had a couple boxes of granola bars in the cabinet, so I put those out to have at least something for the kids. Well, thirty minutes later, at about 9 PM, I went to check on the basket and found that some angry kid(s), who were not happy with the granola bars, had flung the basket, granola bars, and bandana into the street! The basket was on the side of the road, along with the bandana, but many of the granola bars had been run over by cars. I picked everything up and declared Halloween over for the night.

The next year, again, when we ran out of candy at around 9 PM, my basket, bandana and stand were all thrown onto our front lawn. Last year some kids actually stole the white basket, bandana and all the candy that was left! At least they left the stand!

This year, the night Trick-or-Treaters crossed the line. I used a fifty-cent Halloween bowl I bought from Target to fill with candy. I put the more expensive candy out during the day when I knew younger children, who came with their parents, would be coming. I saved the less expensive candy for the night Trick-or-Treaters who usually emptied much of the bowl of candy into their bags. I ended up running out of six Costco-size bags of candy at around 6 PM! I had to put a sign on the door stating that we literally ran out of candy. A couple hours later, I went out to turn off the tea lights in the pumpkin my son and his Grandfather lovingly carved together and found it smashed to bits! I am hurt, I am angry and I am disillusioned. There was no reason to destroy something because others were not considerate. Next year, Halloween ends at sundown. Lights out. Treasured items will be out of sight. That is it. Halloween will be over.

Playground Pick Up -- by Jamie

It’s a shame I can’t bring my daughter with me to a singles bar—she’s really great at breaking the ice with everyone around us. Sometimes, she’ll just stare at strangers with her big, blue eyes, and get their attention—as well as welcoming smiles. Other times, our conversation will attract someone’s interest. Jayda’s becoming a real chatterbox—and an inquisitive one, at that—and the comments and questions she peppers me with often amuse people who are within hearing range. She’s been obsessed lately with the concept of “buying things,” and actually asked me very loudly the other day, “Mommy, who bought my tushie?” That certainly got a reaction out of passersby! Jayda’s also, simply, a very attractive child, who constantly garners compliments from strangers about her beautiful curls and “Shirley Temple” look. Regardless, when we’re out and about, she always gets attention. And I, in turn, get some, too. Especially at the playground.

During the week, weather permitting, I pick Jayda up from her daycare, and we head out to a nearby elementary school’s playground; it’s close to our house and very age-appropriate. Over time, Jayda has “collected” a group of friends and admirers who frequent the playground, too—and who help keep both of us entertained. When the school’s after-hours program emerges on the playground in the late afternoon, there are two teacher’s aides whom Jayda approaches enthusiastically: One is a middle-aged woman who always hugs Jayda and chats with her about her day, and another is a woman in her late-20s who gives Jayda animal crackers and whom my daughter follows around like a puppy. Many of the kids in this program know Jayda, too, and wave and smile at her in welcome.

There are also a few nannies who frequent the playground with their charges. Jayda knows each of them by name—and often gets treats from them all. Then, there are the newcomers: Mothers whom we’ve never seen before, but who encourage their children to play with Jayda, and who chat with me while our kids swing next to each other, and run around. I enjoy the camaraderie and grown up conversations, and time passes quickly for me, while Jayda plays happily.

Best of all, there are the daddies…but since most “eligible” men are working in the late afternoon, they are few and far between. Once in awhile, however, Jayda will find a man to bat her eyelashes at, and I will have a conversation with him as a result. It would be nice if Jayda would learn to look at men’s ring fingers first, though, since she rarely “introduces” me to a single man!

Lately, I’ve found myself in a completely new situation—spending time with an unattractive, but incredibly friendly (in a non-flirtatious way) married man, whose adorable, incredibly-well-mannered son has befriended Jayda. They look for us every afternoon—sometimes bringing snacks or toys to share with Jayda. I truly adore the boy—but don’t have much to say to his father; most of the time, we just share anecdotes about our kids. However, he just invited us to play at his house one day this week, and I accepted his invitation because Jayda reacted so enthusiastically to it. I trust the guy…and know Jayda will have an amazing time playing in his home. I’m just not all that eager to socialize with him. And isn’t that what play dates are for—fun for Jayda, and good conversation and company for me?! Well, I’ve been through plenty of bad dates in the past, and I’ve always made it through unscathed. I’ve also made plenty of sacrifices for my daughter, before. So, once again, I’ll do what’s good for Jayda—make our plans, prepare for the worst, and hope that I’ll be pleasantly surprised. Stay tuned…

"The Great Pumpkin" -- by Cara

At least once each October, I take my son pumpkin picking at a large, commercial farm. My son had been looking forward to it all week, counting down the days! I was watching the weather forecast, praying for a nice day. We went for the first time this season last weekend. It was a cool, windy day, after a storm had swept through the area. But weather of any kind was not going to stop my son from his hunt...the hunt for the BIGGEST pumpkin! Or, shall we say, “The GREAT Pumpkin!”

We tried growing pumpkins from seed this year. However, I think we started out too late and the rainy, cool summer didn’t help with our pumpkin crop. In fact, our crop consists of one small, oval, green, sad pumpkin. I have my doubts that it will grow anymore, especially with the night temperatures reaching now into the 40s. Thus, the pumpkin picking. And the hunt! For the “Great Pumpkin!”

My father-in-law (bless his soul!), had promised my son that he would help him carve the pumpkin if my son picked out a big, round, beautiful pumpkin! Well, my son searched. And searched. And there were plenty of wonderful pumpkins I thought met the “GREAT Pumpkin” requirements! But not for my son. He was looking for the “perfect” pumpkin. And it had to be BIG! One of the BIGGEST pumpkins! Now we had two criteria to meet: “The GREAT Pumpkin,” and the “BIGGEST” Pumpkin! Of course, all subjective in a six year old boy’s mind!

So we searched...and searched...and searched some more. Finally, we found IT!! The ONE!! The ultimate “perfect pumpkin!” I tried to help my son lug it to our wagon, but he wanted to do it all by himself. And this “perfect pumpkin” HAD to have weighed between 25 and 30 pounds! My son was elated! “Just wait until Poppy sees this one! He’s going to say it is the BEST!”

Thank goodness a nice gentleman helped us put the GIANT pumpkin on the scale and another kind worker then put it into the car! I won’t even guess what this thing cost! But this was for my son! For his favorite time of year! Ready to do one of his favorite craft activities with one of his favorite people - his Poppy!!

The next day I dropped my son off at my Father-in-Law’s house complete with carving tools and an immensely excited boy! We heaved this gigantic pumpkin into his house and I left the two of them to their “work.” My Father-in-Law said he would drop off my son and their creation later on in the day.

Finally, I received a call that my Father-in-Law was bringing back my son with a “very creative” pumpkin! Knowing my son, I could only imagine what that meant. When they arrived it was just past sunset, so I gathered an LED tea light to put into the pumpkin to make it light up. When they placed the pumpkin on the steps leading up to our front door, I did indeed see quite an unusual pumpkin! This pumpkin had one “ear,” the typical, lopsided, triangular eyes and nose, and a mouth that would certainly scare away an orthodontist, since several teeth were missing! My son was beaming! My Father-in-Law was beaming! And all I could think of was how proud I was not only that they spent time and collaborated on such an intense project, but that they both obviously loved this pumpkin with all of it’s “uniqueness'!” I kissed them both before saying goodnight.

I then went in to get more LED tea lights....this pumpkin needed to be even brighter!

Win-Win Grandparenting -- by Robin

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shakespeare of Moms -- by Robin

Just have to quickly share (for those who have been waiting on pins 'n needles)....our basement passed final inspection this week. What a huge relief!

Moving on.....I had an interesting experience two nights ago. At the suggestion of a writer friend, I signed up for an acting class through my local adult ed program. She thought it might be beneficialbecause I aspire to write a play, and she has written some in the past and is working on others, and has found it helpful with dialogue, understanding what makes good theatre, etc.

The class began this week, and there are 14 of us, all ages, backgrounds and varied levels of dramatic experience. The instructor quickly asked each of us if we've taken acting and when. I was readily brought back to my college days. I attended Hofstra University (undergrad), and was a French minor. One of the classes I took and loved was a French drama class where I actually performed a scene entirely in French. I was so proud of myself at the time, and it was such a challenge. To this day, I fondly recall the experience and the satisfaction I got from it.

This week in the class, she started out with a variety of exercises in an attempt to get us comfortable in our own skin. Each of us was asked to stand for one minute in the room, to be observed by others, and to do nothing. Not smile. Not react. Not move. Not make eye contact with anyone. Do absolutely nothing.

For many, doing nothing was one of the hardest things they've had to do. I wasn't sure how it would feel for me. When I did it, I felt like I was blinking because my eyes were tired. I fixated on a particular poster in the room and tried to meditate so I wouldn't dwell on the fact that I was the focal point of the other students. I was afraid I'd feel overly self-conscious. It was a seemingly long minute.

After the exercise, we gathered in groups of four to share what we observed about each other. And, not one person said I blinked. I was surprised. And, they said I wasn't overly rigid, didn't rock, or do anything I had been concerned about.

This was a bit of a lightbulb moment for me.

It's so easy to judge yourself and reach conclusions about how you're perceived that may be far from the truth. And, especially if it's something that makes you feel somewhat insecure or challenged, the feelings can be all the stronger. While I'm a Leo, and sometimes enjoy attention, other times, I prefer not to be the focal point.

Imagine how as mothers it's so easy to pass self judgment. We have high expectations for our performance, yet, if you're a new mom or have one child, we have had no prior training.

The acting teacher spoke of our working on scenes for our next class, and that for those without acting experience, she'd recommend a scene close to us as people versus a Shakespeare. This made sense. Either way, we'll be stretching ourselves, and those who are so motivated, can work their way up to Shakespeare.

For me, that is not an aspiration. And, surprisingly, it made me aware that I don't need to strive to be the Shakespeare of moms either. While I embrace my role as a mom, it's certainly not always easy. But, what in life is? So, why does it make sense not to take on a big acting role right away (with no formal training), yet as a mom, we want to be at the peak of performance?!

It's ok to aim high...and we should...but we're human. We deserve to cut ourselves some slack.

Stellar Shakespearean actors aren't born in a day. And, the same holds true for us moms.


PS -- Take a listen to my interview re: later in life parenting! http://www.therealparentingshow.com/episodes/226/the-real-parenting-show-037-later-in-life-parenting/

What Me Weary? by Jamie

People who know me are used to my complaints about Jayda waking up at 5 a.m. every day. But the fact is, pre-Jayda—before she was even a glimmer of an idea in my head—I awoke willingly before 5 every morning to go to the gym. I religiously devoted at least 10 hours a week to working out—hard—and I also worked full-time, did some additional freelance work, ate ridiculously “clean” (keeping myself at less than 10% body fat year-round), and still managed to go out on dates several times a week. I also suffered from insomnia, and rarely got more than 5-6 hours of sleep a night.

Fast-forward to my present-life. I still get to the gym 5-6 times a week, still eat very healthfully 90% of the time (though I allow myself to consume more food these days, and thus, carry a more reasonable amount of body fat), I rarely drink (and when I do, it’s just a well-savored glass of wine), and I currently work from home. However, lately, several times a week when I put Jayda to bed between 7:30 and 8 p.m., and I lay down beside her to rub her back, I wind up passing out with her (and am shocked when I look at the clock and discover it’s after midnight and I have to force myself up to go brush my teeth)! I also find myself looking forward to bedtime…and have no problem sleeping through the night—and for as long as Jayda will allow me. I even crave naps on the weekends—though Jayda never lets me take them. In short, now that I’m a mom, I’m tired!

I passed a recent physical with flying colors. And more often than not, people tell me I don’t look my age. So why am I so exhausted? I have a friend who is constantly chasing her bolting toddler through stores and restaurants; I rarely have that problem since Jayda generally doesn’t race away from me, and she never wanders far. Jayda’s not an overly-active kid—just a “normal” one. She’s also a fairly even-tempered child. She certainly has her share of tantrums, but I’ve met plenty of kids who are much harder to manage. And while Jayda is a ceaselessly curious child—always asking me questions and probing me to produce creative answers—that shouldn’t physically exhaust me…or should it?

Maybe it just comes down to one thing: Taking care of someone else requires a whole lot more energy than simply taking care of yourself. And while I’ve always had stress in my life (who doesn’t?), and I’ve always found ways to manage it, knowing that you’re solely responsible for the one person whom you love more than anyone and anything in the world is a stress like no other. And it’s the kind of stress that never goes away. I guess I just need to accept that…and get as much rest as I can. And while I do still plan to be 40 and fabulous this February, maybe I’ll just have to make sure I do it before 8 p.m.

Ensuring That I'm Insured -- by Jamie

Almost immediately after my daughter was born, I made an appointment with a lawyer to draw up a will and legally name a guardian for Jayda, as assurance that she would be taken care of, upon my untimely death. I also rushed out to meet with a life insurance agent to make certain Jayda’s potential guardian would have plenty of money with which to take care of her. Then, I breathed a sigh of relief: I had done my duty as a responsible single mom.

Fast-forward to January 2009, when my long-time job as a children’s book buyer for a large retailer was unexpectedly eliminated. Fortunately, along with a nice severance package, my former employers also agreed to pay their usual share of my medical benefits coverage for an entire year. Again, I breathed a sigh of relief…albeit a temporary one. But recently, I realized there was another investment I’d neglected to make. Because I had the foresight to purchase a life insurance policy, if I die, Jayda will be fine, financially. But what if I don’t die…and I simply can’t work anymore? I’m a writer, but what if an accident renders me physically unable to write? Or coach? Or teach? Or do a myriad of things I’m exploring now as future careers. I lost my disability insurance along with my former job, and I now realize how crucial it is for me to have it…not just as insurance for myself, but for Jayda. Crucial…and very, very costly.

Disability insurance premiums get more expensive as you get older. I guess it’s a good thing I’m looking for coverage now, before I turn 40, but, on the other hand, it would have been even better to have secured a policy when I was only 35. And the more money I require to live on every month, should I become disabled, the more expensive the insurance becomes (and the maximum I’ve been approved for is far from generous…living on it would still be pretty difficult). In addition, the fewer loopholes and more extensive the coverage, the more costly it is. And, well, in short, the kind of disability insurance I need is very expensive: A high monthly payment for coverage I hope I’ll never realize a penny from. Ugh. Sometimes being responsible sucks.

As I look at my calendar, I can’t help but realize that January will be here before I know it…and my low-cost-to-me family health insurance coverage will be up. That means I’ll also have to find new medical and dental insurance policies for Jayda and myself. And my bank account will dwindle even more. How does anyone survive as a freelancer with all of these insurance costs? There must be lots of daredevils out there, living without them, and hoping for the best. But, as a single mom looking out for her priceless child, I find them non-negotiable: I need them all.

Yesterday, I got a free upgrade to a new, very high-tech Blackberry. As the salesman was filling out the forms and getting my signature, he asked me: “Do you want insurance?” I declined. It was nice for a change. I’ll take risks with my electronics, no matter how fancy they are—but never with my daughter.

Note: For those of you Long Islanders who missed my live TV appearance on “Something to Talk About,” it will be re-airing this week on the following channels:
Great Neck Cablevision 20 [15 GN/North Shore incorporated villages], Starting Tuesday, Sept. 29 airs for two weeks: Tuesday 8 PM, Friday 10 PM, and Monday 5:30 PM;
Verizon FIOS 37 [All of Nassau County]: Same dates/times as above;
Cablevision 20 [Different from the Cable 20 channel listed above] in the rest of Nassau & W. Suffolk [all of the "Cablevision WOODBURY System"]: Thursday, Sept. 24 at 7:30 PM; Cablevision Digital IO 115 [all of the "Cablevision WOODBURY System"]: Thursday, Oct. 1 at 7:30 PM

Worn Out - by Robin

I am worn out today (Thursday).

It's that time of the month, and my 40-something hormones are whacked, so this was not expected.

Seth is being a total Dennis the Menace....or should I say vandal.

And, I got into a fender bender.

I was driving through town, as I do many days, enroute to TJ Maxx with a friend for a shopping jaunt. I was looking forward to a fun few hours. My week has been consumed with carpet installation, inspectors, and painters. The main street in my town is in a constant state of gridlock, and today was no different.

As I approached a corner, two cars were stopped waiting to turn. It was taking forever, so I endeavored to get around them. I inched out, and as quickly as I did that, an SUV came careening behind me. I didn't see it, and it crashed into the right front side of my car. Totally took off my headlight and the surrounding hardware and part of the front bumper.

I called the police, and an accident report was filed. The other driver took it in stride and basically said, "accidents happen." I, on the other hand, felt it was his fault, and was very rattled about it. I was grateful that no one was hurt, but it made me a bit nervous to drive (although we did still go to TJ). And, it's made me all the more aware of how we can't control others. I have always considered myself a safe, defensive driver, but still, accidents can happen. I just have to accept that. Now we'll have to deal with our insurance company.

Then, once I get home, I made a discovery in the living room. Seth had decided to play Bob the Builder (or something like that). He removed (and destroyed) the hinges to our living room armoire and dropped them in the garbage, along with the screws. I happened to stumble upon the armoire that looked funny and realized the hinges were missing. On top of that, he decided to draw on the armoire with a pen, and denying doing any of it. My husband had the lovely task of dumping out the kitchen garbage and rummaging through it. Amazingly, he found the hinges and screws, but is unable to put it back together.

Then, we discovered that Seth took Duco Cement and put it on the living room phone. What that was about, I have no clue.

Then, we discovered that he scrapped off some of the paint and spackle that was newly done in the hall and on his bedroom door.

I've never seen him go through such a totally destructive streak. It left me completely speechless.

We took away his wallet (with allowance in it), threw out one of his pet fire trucks, took away tv and dessert tonite and told him that we have lost trust in him in our home. And, that he now needs to work on gaining it back.

Just unreal.

I am worn out from it all.

This weekend is the Jewish Holiday, and I look forward to spending some quality time with family and friends.

I'd like to be able to put this week behind me and see Seth work on regaining our trust. I realize he's only six, but he's gotta make some concerted effort to make up for these actions.

Wishing all the Jewish families out there a very happy, and healthy!

Playdate Etiquette for Moms? by Cara Meyers

My son is a very social child. I love the fact that he is social. First because he makes a friend or two just about everywhere we go, which keeps him entertained. Second, because it forces me to come out of my shell and drum up casual conversation with other Moms, which sometimes even lead to friendships for both of us.

But what do you do when your son has found his “new best friend” and you know in your heart that you just don’t “click” with that child’s Mom. What type of “etiquette” is warranted in situations like this? And where and how do you draw the line so that your child can still have playdates with his friend, while minimizing contact with the Mom in question?

I must say, my son has many friends, and I honestly enjoy the company of his friend’s Moms while we supervise their playdate. But my son has a new friend he adores; a polite, kind, happy child who gets along with my son beautifully. His Mom, on the other hand, is quite another story. I have to admit that I cringe when she suggests we all go somewhere for an outing or a special playdate. It’s not that she isn’t a nice person, we just doesn’t “click.” We share different philosophies about parenting, she comes from a completely different ethnic culture, which I normally would relish learning more about, but she makes assumptions that her ethnic culture is somewhat superior to all others. She is rather close-minded and frequently dominates our conversations. I feel belittled and exhausted from trying to be diplomatic throughout listening to her dissertations. I wish Miss Manners had a suggestion for how to handle the etiquette of such a situation.

My first approach, since my son’s friend lives only blocks away, was to have his Mom drop my son’s friend off at our home for a few hours to play. So the house turned into a tornado. Better that than two hours of listening to unsolicited opinions I have no interest in. Even better is when this Mom reciprocates and invites my son over to her home! A couple hours of peace and I make sure that my son cleans up before he leaves her home.

Still, I get those calls,”The boys are off next week, how about taking them to the farm?” Or, “If you have some free time over the weekend, let’s go for lunch and then see a movie with the boys?” What makes this worse is that this Mom usually presents the idea to her son who relates it to my son before I even get the call. Then I look like “Mommy Meanest” to my child if I don’t relent. And relent I do. Because my son is so incredibly happy with his “best friend.”

I’ve even tried the rude cell phone approach: Call someone and have a lengthy conversation while our children are playing. Or texting my husband so that I only have to HALF pay attention to this Mom. Still, she drones on and on about nothingness. I swear, I want to go home and take a nap after these playdates!

So, what WOULD Miss Manners do under these types of circumstances? Well, I consulted the 17th Edition of “Etiquette,” written by Emily Post’s granddaughter, Peggy Post.
Here she says, “The lesson here is to kill ‘em with kindness. By keeping your cool, you’re teaching by example, such as a parent does for a child.” So, I guess what I am really doing is supervising a playdate of THREE children. And I have to teach all of them by my example of staying levelheaded and remaining calm yet kind. Is this what Miss Manners would REALLY do? What do you think? And how would YOU handle this type of situation?

NOTE: Cara is wearing an exclusive t-shirt design available for sale in the Shop on http://www.motherhoodlater.com.

My Kid Oughta Be in Pictures -- by Jamie Levine

I think my daughter is the most beautiful girl in the world. Doesn’t every mother believe that of her child? But my adoring perception of Jayda has been validated time and time again by more objective people than myself. From her “gorgeous blue eyes” and “amazing curls” to her downright “Gerber baby” appeal, I’ve heard more compliments about my daughter than you can imagine.

Even when Jayda was just a few months old, she seemed to have a mesmerizing effect on people. Wherever we went, we were approached by strangers who were charmed by her smile, men who stopped in their tracks when Jayda batted her eyelashes at them, and, even other moms who would joke that my child “was going to be a real man-killer” when she grew up. I’ve actually had people on the street ask me if they could take Jayda’s picture, and was once stopped by a television producer who told me that Jayda would be great on camera because “she’s got the great looks…and the charm.” So, yeah, my daughter is beautiful. Really beautiful.

My father is one of my daughter’s biggest fans. When Jayda was only a few months old, he began his rantings that I “must get her into modeling.” And every compliment Jayda has received from someone in a store or a restaurant since then, has only fueled his fire. As a joke, for one of my father’s birthdays, I gave him a sweatshirt with Jayda’s picture on it and the caption: “Get this kid an agent!” He wears it constantly. But when he prods me to get head shots taken of Jayda or to find her an agent, I shrug my shoulders and suggest, “You do it. I don’t have the time – or the desire – to parade her through modeling agencies and on casting calls.” I’m also not so sure I want to place so much importance on Jayda’s appearance; my daughter is quite intelligent and funny as well, and I’d rather focus on those qualities. But my dad still dreams of seeing Jayda in a print ad. Or on TV.

This Tuesday (September 15th), I’ll be appearing on a local cable TV show called "Something to Talk About.” The segment is about SMCs (Single Mothers by Choice) and I’ll be appearing with another SMC, and speaking about our experiences. It’s a live show, with viewers calling in, and the host, who has seen pictures of Jayda, has asked me to bring her on the show with me. There’s just one problem: The segment starts filming at 8pm – which is Jayda’s bedtime. Generally, Jayda is well-behaved and charming when we’re out of the house and around other people (it’s just at home that she melts down and can turn into a real monster…lucky me!), but we’re never out of the house at 8pm. It’s made me wonder: What might Jayda be like at that hour in a studio? When she’s overtired, she’s quite manic and silly. Will she embarrass me? Make it difficult for me to focus on the topics which I’m on the show to discuss? Or, will she be my darling Jayda — and make me feel proud to have brought her on the air? I wish I knew.

My father, of course, has offered to drive me to the studio with Jayda – and to watch her while I prep for the show. My more reasonable mother has offered to give Jayda dinner and put her to bed while I drive myself to the studio and film my appearance alone. More than likely, I’ll do what’s best for my child – isn’t that what’s most important? But maybe, just maybe, I will give Jayda her 15 minutes of fame.

If you’re in the Long Island area, tune in to my appearance on “Something to Talk About” (Great Neck, NY Cable 20 & Verizon FIOS 37: Tues 8pm (live), Fri 10pm, Mon 5pm and Nassau/W. Suffolk NY Cable 20: Thurs 7:30pm). I’d love to know what you think.

Cool Toys -- by Robin

I don't typically blog about toys, but I wanted to share two really cool experiences Seth has had.

We were offered the opportunity to test out both Zhu Zhu Pets and the Fisher-Price TRIO Building System, and Seth had a ball with each, as did his friends.

Since Seth is such a vehicle-driven kid, I embraced the idea of his playing with something other than a fire truck or ambulance.

To check out Zhu Zhu pets, visit http://www.zhuzhupets.com/ (see photo above). Zhu Zhu Pets™ are fun, interactive hamsters that talk, move and even navigate their way around their own habitats.

Each hamster in a family of four has its own name and a unique personality. Chunk, Pipsqueak, Squiggles and NumNums will delight children of all ages with their cute squeaks, squeals and zany moves. You can watch the action as these adorable hamsters play, explore, run and slide. Chunk catches a wave on his own surfboard while Pipsqueak takes the car out for a spin and Squiggles races down a slide. A dozen add-on sets let your child create and explore a new Zhu Zhu Pets™ world every time they play!

Imagine a pet you don't have to clean up after. You can buy everything from toy cars to a ball for them to race around in.

Seth even took his hamster to our pool club to show him around.

To check out TRIO, visit http://www.triobuilding.com/ If you have a child like Seth who loves building, TRIO is up their alley. Available for different age ranges, it's a portable buiding set that comes with bricks, sticks and panels, and instruction booklet that kids can easily follow themselves to buid a wide array of structures.

The Fisher-Price TRIO™ Building System is a must-have for kids who love to stack, build and create their own masterpieces! The easy-click bricks, sticks, and panels make building a "snap" for kids and moms will appreciate the storage bin that doubles as a building base.

Visit http://www.fisher-price.com/us/trio/ and you can save $5 off any TRIO set. The offer expires 10/1.

Note: Post a comment re: this blog post by 9/20, and be entered to win a TRIO Building System for your child. Winner to be chosen at random and notified via email. Please provide your email in your comment.

What Kind of Mom Am I? by Jamie Levine

I was a stay-at-home mom once – if you count the 3 ½ months I was on maternity leave. I was also a full-time working/commuting-to-the-city mom – for about 16 months after that. And right now? I’m not sure what I am. After my beloved children’s book buying job of 10 years was eliminated back in January, I started freelance writing and consulting to pay the bills. In the past few months, I’ve also picked up some coaching clients (I’m a certified life coach). And I’m always networking. Always looking for more work and/or another full-time job, while trying to decide “what to do with my life.” It’s pretty time-consuming figuring out how to support my daughter long-term, by myself. Thus, as I often joke, I’m the busiest unemployed person I know!

When I first lost my job, my immediate reaction was to keep my daughter in her daycare – but for shorter hours – because I didn’t want to “disrupt” her life. She loves it there and well, I love having the time to get my work done without worrying about her. But now, over six months later, it sometimes feels strange. Mind you, Jayda and I have plenty of “extra” time together now that I’m no longer commuting. She’s up at 5 a.m. (and so am I, by default) and I don’t drop her off at daycare until 8. That’s a lot of quality morning time! And when I pick her up at 4 p.m., we still have hours together to do things, eat dinner at the same time, and enjoy a lot of unrushed book-reading and cuddling before bed. I give Jayda plenty of attention, and we’re closer than ever. But I sometimes feel guilty for not keeping her at home with me all the time. I mean, it’s not like I have an office to go to every day.

The truth is, I don’t want to be a stay-at-home mom! I love my daughter…truly adore her. But being with her 24/7 drives me nuts! Especially when we’re just staying home or running errands. She’s a wonderful kid…but she is a toddler. A very intelligent, inquisitive, attention-needing, at-times-tantrum-throwing toddler. That’s why I keep us so active when she IS home with me (on weekends, holidays, etc.). I fill up our calendar as far in advance as I can, and run myself ragged going places and doing things with Jayda when we’re together. Because being at home alone with my daughter – and staying idle – makes me crazy.

Of course, financially, I’m not always sure Jayda’s time in daycare makes sense for us. Lately, I’ve been wondering if I should shorten her hours a bit more. But if I bring her in later in the morning, I lose my much-needed before-work gym time. And that’s what keeps me sane. And if I pick her up earlier, it cuts into her outdoor playtime with her friends. Also very important.

Am I being a spendthrift? Or worse – selfish? And what kind of mother can I label myself as now, anyway? I no longer truly identify with my full-time working-long-hours mommy friends…but I’m also not a stay-at-home mom, filling my days with play dates and Mommy & Me classes.

However, I do love our routine. I have just enough Jayda-time and just enough Jamie-time. And while Jayda’s face always lights up when I arrive to take her home from daycare, it does take us 15 minutes or more to get out of there. She’s too busy hugging all her friends, saying goodbye to her teachers, and simply, not wanting to leave. So, for now, I guess I’m just Jayda’s mom…a woman who’s trying to find her way professionally, working to stay healthy and sane, and most of all, is devoted to keeping her daughter happy and thriving. And I suppose that’s a pretty good kind of mom to be.

Back to School -- by Cara Meyers

I always loved the “newness” and anticipation of going back to school when I was young! Fresh, crisp notebooks! Perfectly sharpened pencils! New pens and pencil cases! Even the annual shopping trip for my new school “wardrobe” excited me! That is until I realized that it would be 85 degrees the first day of school and I wouldn’t be able to wear that perfect pink and burgundy wool dress with the pretty ruffles, matching tights and coordinating shoes!

But the anticipation of the new school year is no longer the same for many children and many families. Yes, a trip to Staples can not only prepare you with eighteen types of different highlighters, 6 types of rulers, every type of pen, pencil, crayon, marker, and dry erase implement manufactured. For many children, though, the new school year will bring stress.

Almost an insurmountable amount of stress.

More and more school systems are trying so hard to improve their national “ranking” that I truly feel that the individual student becomes morphed into part of a statistic. And to make matters worse, there is increasing evidence that public schools, in general, are becoming, to a greater extent, geared towards girls. Rough and tumble is sadly discouraged in the classrooms. Even as early as Kindergarten, children are expected to read and write almost fluently. And two hours of homework is almost the “norm.”

Interestingly, more books are being written about how and why boys are not meeting the “standards” set by their schools. At my bedside I have books titled, “Boys Adrift: The Five Factors Driving the Growing Epidemic of Unmotivated Boys and Underachieving Young Men”; “The Trouble with Boys”; “When Labels Don’t Fit”; “Raising Cain.” Why is all of this emphasis on boys? And why is it that these books suggest that either boys must conform to the rigidity of their school system, not conform and risk failing out of school, or try to reach that one teacher in probably a thousand who is willing to go the extra mile and try to pull the male students back into the curriculum through innovative techniques?

Let’s face it, school curriculums are now designed for girls. Girls who will sit still and take notes and disrupt less. Girls who are more attentive. Girls who have the ability to sit for greater lengths of time. In the 1970s, more than 60% of boys were the ones going off to college. Today, 70% are girls. What is this telling us about how our national school system regards boys?
I’m not looking forward to the start of school this year. I have a son who will be entering first grade. He will need special speech and language services to help him get through the year, but will that be enough? Will he still be falling through the cracks even though he is as smart as a whip in his knowledge of science and math? I don’t know. What I do know is that I will be working very hard as his advocate. Going to meetings, playing phone tag with people who see my son simply as part of a “statistic.” And making darn sure that he gets all that he deserves to prove he can be the bright, vibrant, successful individual I know he will be! But first the start of a new school year. New backpack, new folder, markers, pencils, pencil case... sans the excitement I once enjoyed and embraced.

Who Needs a Husband? I Need My Mommy and Daddy! by Jamie Levine

To be a successful single mom (or at least a sane one!), you really need a good support system: Friends or family whom you can lean on when you’re in a clinch. And, most importantly, they must be people whom both you and your child like and trust. In my case, those people are my mom and dad.

I’m not always comfortable asking for help when I need it. This is a weakness I’ve been working on ever since Jayda was born, but I haven’t yet overcome it. While I’m blessed to have a lot of wonderful friends, it’s never easy for me to ask one of them to watch Jayda when I have to be somewhere else. But my mom and dad? I’ll ask them in a heartbeat. When I need to go to the city for a meeting and it runs late, my parents pick Jayda up from daycare. When I want to go to the gym on a weekend morning, my dad happily entertains Jayda while I’m gone. And when I have a date—with a man, or even just a girlfriend for a glass of wine—my mom and dad are there to listen to the baby monitor while Jayda snoozes.

But what about when they’re not around? Ugh. Only hours after my parents had left for a week-long trip to Vermont, my car started acting up and I was told by my mechanic that I needed to take it to the dealership…a 30-minute drive away. When I made my appointment at the dealership, they told me they’d drive me home after I left my car there, but they had no loaner cars. Huh? I could drop my car off on Tuesday morning right after I took Jayda to daycare. But what if the car wasn’t fixed by the time I had to pick her up? Or worse…what if it would take an extra day to fix it (that day being a Wednesday—the day Jayda is home with me)? How would I pick up my repaired car with Jayda in tote? And, well, simply, how would I deal with being stranded at home for two days?

I wanted to call my mom on her cell phone and cry. But what on earth could she do? She was halfway to Vermont already. And besides, I was supposed to be a “grown up.” Heck, I’m a mom, myself! So, instead, I panicked alone. Binged on gummi bears (the ones I give Jayda to encourage her potty training). Gave myself a migraine. And then, I did what I should have done first: I picked up the phone.

First, I called Jayda’s daycare to see if Jayda could stay later on Tuesday, if necessary. Affirmative. Then, I called a friend whom we had plans with on Wednesday and told her I wasn’t sure we’d be able to make it…everything depended on when I’d get my car back. She immediately offered to come over and watch Jayda if I needed her to—and also suggested we move the play date closer to my house. Wonderful!

That evening, I vented to another friend, who said she’d be in my neighborhood on Wednesday and that she’d love to watch Jayda—or give me a ride somewhere if I needed it. Oh, I love my friends! And on Tuesday morning, as I pulled out of my driveway to take Jayda to daycare, my neighbor waved at us and asked how I was. I mentioned my impending trip to the dealership and she told me she’d be around both Tuesday evening and Wednesday morning if I needed her help. Thank you, neighbor!

Suddenly the unsettled feeling I’d been having ever since I’d spoken to my mechanic disappeared. Everything was going to be ok. And you know what? I took my car to the dealership and they asked if I wanted to wait while they repaired my car. Wait? A whole day? Oh, no. The repairs took 45 minutes and I was back home in time to go to the gym and get all my work done before I had to pick Jayda up from daycare (without the extended hours). Go figure. I guess I don’t need my mom and dad, after all. Well…at least not this week while they’re on vacation!

The Day Camp Dilemma: Part II -- by Cara Meyers

This Week: My husband had decided to take the Day Camp Dilemma challenge and see whether he could do a better job at preparing my son for Day Camp each day. Here are the results, as promised.

Monday: I had a feeling that the camp challenge was off to a bad start when ten minutes before the bus was to come, my son was still in his pajamas and the backpack wasn’t packed. I went into my husband’s office and said, “I presume you are driving our son to camp.” He asked why and I mentioned the above. Well, you’d have thought the house was on fire because my husband tore through the house, issuing orders to my son, throwing him clothes (which didn’t include his camp t-shirt), and frantically trying to get my son out the door.

When I noticed that my husband was ready to leave the house with an empty backpack (except for the ignored sunscreen at the bottom), I reminded my husband that my son needed lunch. My husband’s idea of “lunch” was a plain bagel, nothing on it, thrown into my son’s lunch tote. I asked, “Don’t you think he’ll be thirsty?” He threw in a bottle of water too. I handed my husband the towel, swim wear, water shoes, and camp shirt as he was walking out the door. All I got was a very flustered, stressed out look. And yes, my son had to be driven to camp.

Tuesday: My son has to bring his own tennis racket on Tuesdays because the children get tennis instruction on those days. He also typically will wear street clothes to camp, since tennis and other non-swimming activities are done in the morning. My husband evidently did not look at the schedule posted on our kitchen cabinet (does he even KNOW there is a schedule posted on our kitchen cabinet?!), because he dressed my son in his swimwear, gathered street clothes (but forgetting the underwear), and threw the camp shirt over my son’s swim wear (he remembered the precious camp shirt!). He packed my son a slightly better lunch (turkey sandwich and water bottle), however I still had to hand my husband the towel to put into the backpack. While he was leaving, without my son’s tennis racket, I called out, “I think you need to check the camp schedule before you leave.” He replied, “Where’s the camp schedule?” I said, “On the kitchen cabinet. It’s the brightly colored paper with all of the camp activities of the day. There is something you need to bring with you on Tuesdays.” He ran back into the house, sweat dripping down his face, frantically looking for the appropriate date and day, and read that our son would be having tennis. He ran outside, opened the garage, found the tennis racket, and raced with my son to the car. My son missed the bus...again.

By Tuesday night, I subtlely suggested my husband consider getting everything ready for camp the night before, therefore avoiding the stress and frustration he experienced the two days prior. He did look at the sheet that night and was MUCH more prepared by Wednesday morning! So prepared, that he let me sleep a little longer! And the only item he had to rush with was the lunch (he even added fruit!).

All-in-all, I must say, “Bravo!,” to my husband. He really had the system down by Thursday and Friday! I think the most important lesson my husband learned was preparation ahead of time, and “learning” the routine. A wife who did the laundry each night certainly was helpful. Most importantly though, was having this wife hand you what you “forgot” as you raced out the back door! That certainly didn’t hurt either!