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!

Dedication to My Son Turning 6 - by Cara Meyers

It all began 6 years ago, on a Tuesday evening at exactly 9:20 pm - according to my watch next to my bedside. I was reading a book, a Harry Potter book in fact, thinking, “It’s okay if I start this book now, I’ll have plenty of time during maternity leave to read the rest of it while the baby sleeps.” Well, my baby had other plans. And Harry’s story was left unread.

I had a relatively uneventful pregnancy. Especially considering that I was an “older” maternity patient at 39 with my first pregnancy. I saw my high risk doctors regularly. I never developed gestational diabetes, which they all thought I was doomed to get. They also thought I was headed for pre-eclampsia (dangerously high blood pressure in a pregnant woman) since my blood pressure was slightly elevated at the start of my pregnancy. Never happened. In fact, about the only significant thing about my pregnancy (except for periodic night legs cramps which make you want to scream bloody murder at the top of your lungs as you massage the cramp out), was that I had real, but random, contractions, starting at 34 weeks gestation. The doctors wanted me to reach 37 weeks gestation so that the baby’s lungs would be fully mature, so I was placed on “modified bed rest” and went to the doctor’s office every other day to undergo fetal monitoring.

I met their goal of 37 weeks, but I wanted my son to be born closer to 40 weeks. See, his due date was 2 days before my 40th birthday. I wanted him to be my 40th birthday present. I would never need another present again for my birthday for the rest of my life! I wanted him to be IT! However, I also didn’t want him to be born ON my birthday. I wanted his birthday to be his and his alone. I didn’t want him to feel that he had to “share” his special day, even with his mother. I prayed that he was not born after me, because then the excitement of celebrating Mommy’s birthday may overshadow his own, especially at the age he is now - the grade school years. When birthdays are magical and completely eventful and young children want it to be THEIRS, and theirs alone!

My daily prayers were finally going to be answered that fateful Tuesday evening, August 5th, 2003. My own 40th birthday was 2 days away. At 9:20pm, the first of many contractions began. I didn’t wake my husband because I knew he needed the rest for the long day ahead. So I monitored, and practiced my labor breathing techniques all night long. Finally, around 5:30 am, the contractions were 5 minutes apart and I needed my husband to call the doctor. Our son was ready to be born! Oh how I prayed he would be born that day, Wednesday, August 6th!
After 23 hours of labor, 3:45 minutes before my 40th birthday, at 8:15 pm, my gift arrived! A gift like no other I have ever had or ever will have! And he came on the best day possible, the day before MY birthday!

Every year since, when I celebrate my son’s birthday, it is as if I am celebrating my own! The planning of his parties, the invitations, the party favors, the balloons!! I have not one ounce of resentment nor care that my own birthday is the one overshadowed or overlooked! This is EXACTLY what I wanted! So…to my son who will be celebrating his 6th birthday this Thursday, Happy Birthday, my precious, beautiful, amazing boy!! I love you with all my heart, and then some! My gift!

NEW CARA MEYERS, NEW MOM BLOGGER FOR MOTHERHOODLATER.COM

When “No” Means “Green Eggs and Ham” - by Cara Meyers


What is it about certain six year old boys needing to “test” their mothers in every possible way imaginable? Lately, my six year old son has his own views about what the word “no” actually means.

Take, for instance, this senerio: My son’s friend had a death in the family this past week, making their usual Thursday afternoon playdate impossible to have.

Me: “Honey, Benjamin’s family is very busy today so we can’t see him this afternoon.”

My Son: “Well, how about later?”

Me: “No, Honey. Benjamin’s family needs to be alone today, so we are not having the playdate.”

My Son: “But Benjamin’s not busy.”

Me: (Getting irritated) “We are still not having the playdate. End of story.”

My Son: “What if you call Benjamin’s Mom?”

Me: “I said, “no!” “I am not calling Benjamin’s Mom”...(“Sam I Am!”), “We’re not having a playdate!”...(“Green Eggs and Ham!)

My Son: “Well, what about 5 o’clock? You can call Benjamin’s Mom then.”

Me: (Now irritated AND getting sarcastic), “What part of the word “no” don’t you understand?”...(“I will not call at 5 o’clock! I will not do it! I just will not!")

My son: “Maybe we can walk over to Benjamin’s house and see if he can play?"

Me: (Steam now emitting from my ears), “PLEASE tell me what you don’t understand about “no!!” I really want to know what there is about “no” that doesn’t make sense to you!!...(“I WILL NOT KNOCK, Sam I Am, I WILL NOT KNOCK, Green Eggs and Ham! I do not want to call or write! There is no playdate, THAT IS RIGHT!!)

My son: “Well, maybe we could meet him in the park?"

Me: (Glaring and taking deep breaths while thinking...”I will not meet him in the park, I will not meet him in the dark...I will not call his Mom, oh no, I will not knock on doors and oh...WE WILL NOT MEET HIM, LITTLE MAN, NOW GET YOUR BOOK , ‘GREEN EGGS AND HAM’!!!”)

My son: “Could you pick Benjamin up and bring him to our house?”

Me: (Almost ready to blow, “I will not, WILL NOT, let you play! Why must you ask me every way? I will not pick up Ben to play, I will not go to the park today! I will not call his Mom or knock! I will not do it at 5 o’clock! We will not have a playdate today! NOW WHY CAN’T YOU LISTEN TO WHAT I SAY??!!)

Me: “I’m done with this conversation. Now go read your book”.


Written by Cara Meyers, currently a stay-at-home Mom who lives with her husband, six year old son and two dogs on Long Island, NY. Cara had her son shortly before she turned 40 years old and was a practicing Registered Dietitian before she became a Mom. Blogging has now become her new “profession!”

Home Work

Felt like a prisoner in my own home yesterday.

The alarm company came, and we're now back in full working order, but what was supposed to take a few hours, went into the early evening. That, combined with the gloom and rain, made it quite a tedious day. Not that I wanted for things to do...I was busy networking on the phone....had some very interesting chats re: motherhoodlater and my love coaching work....but by the time my son came home from camp, my husband came home from work and dinner time rolled around, I was itching to get out with no place special to go.

No good movies were playing...my husband offered to put my son to bed so I could go out if I wanted.

I didn't feel like going shopping.

Then what?

Could have hit the gym, but wasn't feeling it.

I was at a loss. And, I kinda wanted to hang with Seth and play a bit. He's become very playful these days before bedtime, and it's been fun.

So, I stayed home, but it was such an isolating day. I guess some days are just like that and we have to be accepting. The daily routine of life isn't always exciting.... but as long as it's relatively calm, one can be grateful.

Today is a different day. The plumbers are done for the moment (until tomorrow), and no more workers are expected until the morning...so I'm a free bird.

Gonna try to wrap up some work on my computer and hit the pool by myself this afternoon and then again take Seth if he wants to go after camp. There is the possibility of showers later, so I don't want to wait until then.

Working from home is a blessing and challenge at the same time.

I was chatting with a gal yesterday who at present is working from home and was sharing how isolating it felt. I can relate. Yet, another mom I know who works fulltime now, yearns to be home with her young son.

Is it that we're never totally happy with what we have? Or do things look greener on the other side of the fence? (Is that the expression?)

Hmmmm...something to think about. I'd sure like to be fully content in the present moment, and I envy people with that capacity. Something to aspire to.


PS -- On another note -- Are you a fan of Todd Parr, the super cool and clever best-selling children's author/artist?? I am.... and I just learned he's coming out with a new line of kids clothes to be sold at select Nordstrom stores starting 8/15. Check it out at http://www.planetcolorbytoddparr.com/. It's for ages 18 months - 6 years.....boys and girls. Fun, colorful, quirky art and positive messages are his trademarks.

Another's Shoes

I feel like I have a new lease on domesticity at the moment.

We are construction free today....and looks like tomorrow as well.

As much as we want our long-awaited basement construction project to continue moving along, I am thrilled. Elated, actually...to be getting a temporary respite.

I had no idea what this experience would entail before we broke ground. Kinda reminds me of parenting and having surgery. I found myself likening it to both the other day when venting to a friend.

It's funny how almost everyone will say things like: It's just your basement. It's gonna be so great. At least it's not an upper floor. Better in summer than winter. Etc.

Their goal is to comfort you, but it doesn't necessarily work unless they've lived it. No matter what they say, until you have the same or at least a very similar experience, you truly don't know what it's like to walk in that person's shoes.

We can anticipate an experience all we like and conjure up images of what we think it will be...or what we hope it will be...but until it's here, you really don't know.

I'm not saying that becoming a mom is like taking a jackhammer to the floor or putting up sheetrock, but it is a huge unknown until you're in it. And, no doubt has possibly conjured up feelings and emotions you didn't see coming.

And, think about it. If you've ever had a surgery (which I have), there can be unforeseen matters in the recovery and beyond that doctors don't always advise you of.

My house is having surgery at present. We've already had days without phone service, cable problems, plumbing challenges, extra expenses, and we're not that far along yet. No one said to expect this, though knowing what I know now, it does seem somewhat inevitable.

I know I'll get through it. My son is loving it....as I wrote previously...he's a Bob the Builder in the making.

My husband is fairly tolerant of it. But, he's in his office all day outside of the home. Me, I feel like the ringleader for all of the various workers whose personal lives I'm gradually getting to know. While I have no desire to walk in the work boots of these men, I do give them credit for putting in hard days of manual labor, often in a quest to provide for their families, I have learned. And, given the state of the economy, most are grateful to be employed at this time, even if on a project basis.

I'm looking out my kitchen window as I write this. They predict on 'n off thunderstorms today. I've been debating if I might take a quick run over to the local pool and get in a quick swim before I head to the gym. But, it's somewhat overcast here in NY. I do yearn, though, to walk in my beach sandals at the moment. These are the only shoes I care to wear for now. So, we'll see if the clouds drift away.

Adulthood

The school year will soon come to a close. Amazing. Seth will be a kindergarten graduate before I blink my eyes.

This coming week is the orientation for the school he will enter in the fall. It's way larger than where he currently attends and feels so adult to me. How will it feel to him? It's hard to imagine my little guy...who's now really quite the big boy...navivating the long halls and staircases and continuing to create a life for himself separate and distinct from me.

But, isn't that what parenting is really all about? We moms do our best so our children can fly.

We've started a new routine in the house. I pick out Seth's clothes in the evening, or he chooses them in the morning, and then dresses himself. It saves time as we inevitably rush to prepare for the school bus, and it's one more step toward autonomy. Some days he takes the initiative. Other days, I help him. It's still kinda nice to be needed in that way.

Next week we are starting a major demolition/construction project in the house of our basement. A Bob the Builder wannabe when he's not aspiring to be a Rescue Hero or Power Ranger, Seth is chomping at the bit to get out his tool kit and go at it. The contractor said he'd take him under his wing, and Seth is totally thrilled and counting the days.

I, on the other hand, am counting the days this project will be complete. It's been 9 months in the making since we signed with the contractor who is much in demand. But, the end result will be worth it. Seth will have a fantastic playspace in the basement that he can grow into and use with friends even as a teenager. I look forward to regaining my living room and relocating the bulk of his toys downstairs. But, until completion day, there will be much stress and mess. And, workers daily in my house, which I don't embrace.

I was speaking with a friend earlier this week about life. A pretty broad subject to say the least. We were agreeing how sometimes it just feels so full and daunting. Jumping from task to task...responsibility to responsibility. So many details, things to handle, etc. I have days where I wish I weren't an adult. Know what I mean? There's something to be said, on a certain level, for being taken care of when things feel overwhelming.

I hope Seth enjoys his childhood to the fullest and doesn't wish the years away before he grows up. He speaks about his adult aspirations, i.e. having a wife and family and SUV with a television and living in our house (he would like us to move out when he's grown up so he can have it) and be a fireman or some other profession where he can help people.

Though at age 6, he likes to do things for himself, there are times when no one does it like a mom. And, I'm glad to be there for him. He'll be "my little guy" forever in my heart.

Loving My Dad, as Mother's Day Approaches

I lost my mom 10 years ago (before I became a mom), and my dad is 90.

I've written before about sandwich generation challenges as a "later" mom, and as Mother's Day approaches, I find myself all the more grateful for my dad.

I miss my mom and think of her often. And, I admit, I get pangs of jealousy when I hear of others making plans to spend the day with their moms in a special, celebratory fashion. I so wish I could do that....even just to hear my moms voice a bit and to see her react to my son.

My senior dad stayed with us this past weekend...his live-in aide went home. Both he and Seth had bad colds, so we mostly laid low in the house, popping Vitamin C, Cold Calm Tea, etc. and lots of napping for both of them.

My dad has had multiple abdominal surgeries in the last few years, and from each, has come complications leading to yet another surgery. He's now in a place where he has daily discomfort and is seeking relief, perhaps in the form of yet another surgery (elective). I can't fathom it and am not convinced it will cure his symptoms. And, I fear for his life.

I realize at 90, he can't live forever. None of us do. But, the notion of one day being parentless is hard for me to grasp. It always has been. I've thought about it for years, particularly since I became a parent. Being a motherlesss mother has been bittersweet enough at times.

I do empathize with my dad's pain, and wish I could rid him of it. Why does the scalpel have to be an option? Can't he just pop a pill? (He's tried, and has seen countless doctors.)

In a way I feel like it's selfish of me not to support him if his choice is to have a surgery. Yet, I can't help but question it. He actually made a comment to the effect that if he were to pass away during the surgery, he wouldn't know the difference anyway since he'd be asleep. Not that he wants to die, but he doesn't fear it.

How different we are. I fear it for him and anyone I love, including myself.

Maybe my dad has the right attitude. To forge ahead....and do what it takes to try to lead a better quality of life... ideally painfree. But, at what risk?! Surgery is not the solution for all, and you never can be sure how your particular body will respond. What about the recovery which can be rough at this age!?

I guess for now I have to try to stay strong and not get all stressed about the surgical prospect.

Mother's Day is approaching, and I do want to enjoy the occasion. Both my beloved mom and dad would want that for me. Not to mention my husband, Marc, and Seth. I'm grateful to have them both. Their unconditional love and support mean the world to me.

Gal Pals Day Out

Had such a fun and relaxing day yesterday....just have to share.

A friend of mine bought a new house in the country, and she was excited to have me come visit. So, she, I and a mutual friend of ours, drove upstate after Seth left for school, and we spent a leisurely afternoon and evening at her home.

It was a lovely day on many levels.

I feel like I'm racing the clock on a daily basis, so to allow myself the opportunity for a day away from my computer (though I did have my Blackberry), was a treat. Since she is spending only sporadic time at the house right now, it's not fully furnished, and there was something to be said for the sparseness of it. The energy felt free-flowing. And, the views from her oversized windows were impressive. Corn fields. A pond. Mountains. Canadian geese. Ok.....the geese pooped all over her deck on the pond, so the serene picture wasn't perfect, but then, what in life is?!

One of my friends who came is adept at decorating, planning out home spaces, etc., so she went to work immediately offering advice on what might be done. It was cool to hear the ideas she was coming up with and to watch her mind at work. She is an artist, so I'm in awe of her talent as is.

My other friend composes music, and she proudly showed us her new Yamaha keyboard, and I thought how amazing it must be to write music in the country and hear it played in this woodsy home with expansive ceilings, etc. I'm sure it sounds wonderful.

I was content just laying back, though I did help my artist friend work on a proposal for an art exhibition she'd like to submit to. It felt good to put on my thinking cap for someone else. Sometimes I feel so caught up in my own projects and endeavors, that it's helpful to step outside my own arena and brainstorm on another person's behalf. It reminded of my pre-motherhood days when I used to work in Manhattan for a PR firm and was constantly producing for clients looking to make headlines re: their products or services. I loved seeing what I could come up with and how the press would respond.

Yesterday, each of us also did our own thing for part of the time in the house, and I liked the vibe of being with other creatve entrepreneurs all working toward our respective goals. It's so isolating, I find, working from my house on Long Island. I'm a big people person, yet I'm a sole practitioner who is home-based.

As the afternoon progressed, we took a ping pong break. It felt like a trip down memory lane. I can't remember the last time I played ping pong or where I played, but I remembered that I always liked it. And, my skill came back. I played pretty well, especially considering it's been years since I picked up a paddle. And, as leisurely as we all tried to take the game, alternating playing singles, the competitive streak came out in each of it, and the game took on zealous speed. It somehow reminded me of my life...bouncing back 'n forth between various pursuits.

I now want to get a ping pong table, if we can fit it in our basement.

We left her house late, and it was raining and so very dark, but still peaceful. We stopped at a Mexican place and had an after hours dinner, and I returned home around midnight. I was yawning away in her car, yet when my head hit the pillow, I was wired and couldn't sleep. It had been both an exhilarating and calming day.

I felt like a free woman for the day. Not a mom. Not a wife. Not a daughter. Just Robin. The Robin who is more capable that she might think of laying back.

I need to tap into that Robin more often. I think all us busy multi-tasking "later" moms need to take the time to soothe our inner spirit, rejuvenate, and remind ourselves of who we were before motherhood.

Our children, mates, etc. will probably like us all the better for it, because we will ultimately be happier if we recapture any joy from yesteryear that feels lost. Or, even if it doesn't feel lost, but has taken on a different shape, it still feels good to rediscover activities we loved and the joy of both play and doing nothing.

I look forward to teaching my son the rules of ping pong one day.


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Mom Meltdown

I had a total mom meltdown yesterday.

I feel like I'm 48 going on 8.

My son had a playdate here. It was supposed to be at a friend's house, but plans got changed last minute, and they wound up at our house. It was the second playdate with this particular friend, and I wanted to be a good host. This was a drop-off, and the mom was going to hang with me a bit when she came to pick her up after two hours.

I have to confess. Playdates here are often not fun for me. On one level, I love seeing kids playing happily and creatively. On another level, when it becomes a "playdate gone wild," I ultimately crack. Not during the playdate, but afterwards, when I have to do battle with my son to do clean-up. That's when "mommy maid" emerges and I get completely fed up. And, yesterday, I really lost it.

We are planning to gut our basement in the few months and redo the whole thing, complete with a play room area, etc. But, until then, our living room (we don't have a den), has taken on a life of its own with Seth's many toys piled up in nooks 'n crannies. I wouldn't mind so much, except that many have teeny tiny pieces which are in a huge disaray, so they basically look like a pile of junk, and Seth treats them that way.

On top of it, in the last week, he's lost three things. A toy spy kit. Belt. And stuffed musical dog we gave him for Valentine's Day. Amazingly we did find them all....but I'm tired of playing scavenger hunt for his things.

I've broached the subject of "patience" with members of motherhoodlater.com at get togethers we've had. I truly feel I have less patience as a 40 something mom. I told my husband when he came home from work yesterday that I "need to get out of here!!" And, I meant it...but it's easier said than done. I could have jumped on a plane that moment....quickly packed a bag.....and flown off to...I don't know where...but someplace where I could just be Robin and put aside my mommy role temporarily.

Maybe I'm having a mid life crisis? Is this what they're like? I know I'm perimenopausal. With hormones in fluctuation, that's bound to affect one's moods. I get that. So, is that what this is? Or maybe it was just a particularly challenging playdate and I'll get over it? I am entitled to have these moments.

I was speaking with a close friend on the phone today who said that she's been in a funk of late...and it's not like her to say that. She's one of the most upbeat people I know.

Could it be Mercury Retrograde perhaps? Some kind of misalignment with the stars? Hmmmm....something in the air?

Today I felt somewhat better. In my fit of fury last night, Seth & I dumped some of this toys...three garbage bags full...and that was therapeutic for me....and good for him as well. Toy clutter leads to a total lack of appreciation, and he can't focus or even decide what to play with.

This afternoon, we went to a playspace with two other mom friends and their sons. I didn't love it....the music was blaring.....it was pricey for what it was.....and the seating wasn't comfortable or so readily available. But, Seth had fun. In the end, that's what counts.

It does get to be hard sometimes as a mom compromising your own comfort, etc. for the sake of your child. I fully realize that this is what moms do...but it doesn't mean it's easy. We just rise to the occasion.

Monday, Seth will be back in school (he was off this whole week), and I'll be in his classroom. I was invited to make an appearance as an author and to share my experiences writing books. I'm looking forward to that. It reminds me of how at a very young age, I aspired to be a writer, and would actually create my own kids books, complete with illustrations. I plan to bring in some as a show 'n tell. And, then I'm hosting a little party in his classroom since his 6th birthday is Tuesday.

Time flies. Six already. Wow! And, as my friend reminded me today after I shared my exasperating playdate experience, he won't be little forever. And, the day will come before I blink my eyes, where he's going out with his friends, with no mommy-in-tow.....and I might then miss these mommy 'n me outings.

Time will tell.

Do you feel you're a patient mom? Have you had a mommy meltdown, and how did it feel?

More Than One

Seth was off from school yesterday, and he had a playdate with a girl in his kindergarten class.

It was our first time getting together with them. The kids played nicely, and I enjoyed getting to know the mom.

She was my kinda gal. Lots to talk about. Introspective. Holistic health-minded. Studying to be a life coach with an author I admire. It was a pleasant afternoon.

One thing that really struck me is that she has four children. I was in awe.

She said that last year she turned 40 and planned a getaway celebration with good friends, and how they had a blast. Her husband was very supportive of her trip.

She and her husband practice self care...they have both a yoga practitioner and masseuse come to their home regularly. I thought that was so admirable.

But, what I really wondered was what life is like with four children? They have a live-in nanny weekdays, but still......

I could only begin to imagine the dynamic of homework for four (though one is only 2.5), meals out, coordinating playdates, after school activities, etc.

I pondered what that felt like? And, the mom who seemed so industrious, how does she even fit in the time for her coaching studies? She goes to the gym at 5:30AM with a friend because she said she wouldn't get there if the didn't go at that hour. I'd be comotose if I did that, though some nights I'm up at that hour anyway.

Today I had lunch with a friend in her 50s who is an ambitious, highly-creative empty nester. And, while we were focusing on a work project for her, child-rearing came up. And, she herself said that having children was a lot of work, even if it's one. This is not to say you don't love your children...and I adore Seth.....but there's a lot to be done as a parent.

For me, I couldn't imagine for a moment having four children, especially as a later mom. I wouldn't have the energy or focus to devote to it. There are other things I aspire to do simultaneously. I'm glad I'm clear about that, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for those who parent more than one. I just know that at this point in my life, that would not be for me. And, luckily my husband is on the same page.

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Future Later Mom Empty Nester

I am so tired of this winter. Are you?

And, Seth's school bus is stressing me out.

The bus aide gave me the evil eye the other day when we weren't standing outside awaiting their arrival. It's cold out there in the morning. Can't we wait just inside our doorway, and Seth can scamper out when they arrive?

Today the bus was two hours late. There was a school opening delay due to the weather yet again.

I ask you....are we done with snow yet this season? I hate the ice and mess. Don't like driving or walking on it. It's just not my thing. A sno-bunny I'm not.

So, why do I live in a place like New York? Sometimes I wonder. Though, there's a lot good to be said about it, but the weather wouldn't be high on my list.

Seth said a funny thing the other day.

He announced how a little girl in his class wants to marry him, and he might want to marry her one day. Not now, of course. They're 5. (though I often say he's 5 going on 15) And, he went on to say that when he gets married, he'd like to live in our house. Not with us....but without us...I presume.

Part of me thought, that would be cool, if he really means it. I'm not sure I personally want to live in this house forever. I do love my house (and we're about to embark on a major basement project). But, life in suburbia doesn't always suit me. I might like to live in the city one day and maybe even retire there.

But, how do you decide where you want to retire? Some flock to warmer climates, and I wouldn't mind that. But, would I be happy in a place like Florida or Arizona? Not sure. Maybe. I do like cactus and mountains and wild rabbits. It's something to think about.

It also got me thinking about being a later mom empty nester one day. I have mom friends who are already empty nesters and are in their 50s. I don't know how old I'll be when I fit that bill, but I do know I'll be at least 60 if not older. 60 feels like such a big number. Wow. Can you imagine?! Me 60 one day. G-d willing, that will be the case.

Where will I be in my life then? What will I want? Questions. Questions. And, I'm certainly not prepared to answer any of them.

How did I get on this topic anyway?

Oh yeah....it snowed here again, and I'm feeling a bit clastrophobic, having stayed in all day today.

Tomorrow is another day, and I have a luncheon meeting. Followed by a gym workout. I look forward to both.

A Sandwich Generation Weekend

I've blogged on this subject before. While I hate to be a broken record, I feel the need to share again.

My dad is 90, and my son is turning 6 next month.

It was a long, snowy weekend here in NY, since yesterday was a school holiday. My dad stayed with us since his aide went home, and he just returned to his house 1/2 hour ago via a car service dedicated to the elderly. I'm glad that he didn't have to drive himself in the snow, even though he prides himself on being independent car-wise.

It was a tension-filled weekend for me, and I felt like I was snappy. I hate being that way, but I couldn't help myself. I'm thrilled that my son and dad got to spend quality time (they sleep in the same room...my dad in a rollaway bed), but my dad did nothing but complain the whole weekend about how he feels.

His life has become a rollercoaster of making doctor rounds. At times it feels like he's in search of a magic pill to relieve all his ailments.

I find myself telling him that as a 40 something mom, I don't feel as great as I did 20 years ago. In fact, my dad looked at photo in my office taken when I was in my 20s and had a fulltime job in PR. It happened to be a shot of me with Bob Hope...my company had done an event with him...and I was thrilled to have the chance to talk with him. But, yes, I looked younger, and my dad commented on how different I looked.

So, there you have it...we all age. As much as we might love to turn back the clock, we can't.

So, what to tell a 90 year old? Friends tell me to listen partly with a deaf ear when he complains. But, that's easier said than done.

I want to try to help him. I dropped an email to an integrative doctor we both use and asked a couple of questions on my dad's behalf. I await his response.

I try to be supportive for my dad, but after a while, I can't take listening to it anymore. And, there are so many elderly people I see who are way worse off. Is that any consolation to him? I suppose not. He just wants to feel half way decent, as he puts it. I want that for him too.

I'm sad that he feels his life isn't a quality one. He's made that statement too.

I actually wound up asking him if he'd prefer not to be living (I know it's an awful question to ask)? He just said he wanted to feel good.

Does anyone who is 90 feel good? I wonder. I'd love to know.

Do you know of anyone that age who feels as they would like to?

Is attitude part of it? Until my dad was 87, he had his share of health challenges over the years, but his age seemingly suddenly caught up with him. And, now he says it's not like him to complain. But, actually it is like him to complain...he just was lucky until 87. Since then he's been nothing but frustrated, and it's what I hear all day/every day whether in person or on the phone.

On one hand, I don't want him to conceal how he feels, in case I can help. On the other hand, maybe sometimes you just have to make the most of life despite it all?! How do people in wheelchairs cope? What about someone with chronic illness? What about someone with dementia?

Do they all hate their lives? Do they just vent incessantly?!

Don't get me wrong. I love and value my dad. I am grateful for him and all that he has done for me and for his on-going support, love, etc. I just miss the way he was. He was my chipper dad.

Do you have a senior parent in your life with health challenges and how do they cope? I'd welcome hearing your experiences.

Thanks for listening to mine.

Vacation Reflection

Amazing how much I love my bed when I return from vacation.

We recently got new mattresses, and it's been a bigger adjustment than I anticipated. But, now that I'm getting used to it, I hate to leave it.

The older I get, the more I crave my beloved creature comforts. And, sleeping on a great bed that I'm accustomed to is one of them. Not to mention my pillow and egyptian cotton sheets.

I think back to my younger days when I lived in a college dorm, spent a summer with a family living in Nice, and took many a trip to Europe, staying in affordable (if not downright cheap) hotels in my 20s, and not thinking twice about the bed. It was all about the cost.

And, taking long plane rides didn't bother me. Now, I find I get restless even on a short flight. And, feel somewhat confined in the seats...feeling the need to stretch.

And of course, traveling with a five year old is a whole different experience. My son loves flying, and now that he's learning to read, he took tremendous pleasure in attempting to decipher and spell out phonetically the many technical words on the plane. I didn't noticed them so much before, but he was eager to point them out to me, including the emergency exits.

We returned Tuesday night from a five day trip. I had actually left on the trip earlier to attend an offsite business meeting, and met up with my husband and son who drove to Charleston, SC to pick me up. Then, we headed to Myrtle Beach, where we stayed for two nights. They had stayed there four nights total, and got to scope out the lay of the land.

Myrtle Beach is a great family destination. So much for kids to do.

And, this was off season, so some attractions were closed, but there was still plenty to explore and no crowds.

Children's Museum
Aquarium
Nascar Theme Park
Broadway on the Beach (with rides and shops)
Walking along the beach and gathering shells
Eating at cool places like Planet Hollywood, and Hard Rock Cafe

We had a full agenda every day.

And, in season, there are various outdoor water theme parks, fantasy miniature golf places, etc.

While there are a plethora of places to stay, we enjoyed our stay at the Dunes Village Resort and would totally recommend it.

We had a two room suite which was very spacious. Seth, my son, loved having his own room with a tv, and it allowed us to sleep in a bit, without him readily waking us up. We had a view of the beach, and enjoyed having breakfast in the dining room that also had a water view.

Most of all, Seth ADORED their indoor water park. They have the only indoor water park of all the Myrtle Beach hotels, and it stayed open until 11PM. And, it even featured hot tubs for adults. A lazy river with inner tubes and car floats. Basketball. Squirting elephants. Fantastic slides. Etc. And, because we were there off season, it was not a total scene, which was truly appreciated. Seth would have spent the entire day in the water park, and there are actually two of them on premises, each in a different building. We hung out at both.

Their website is www.dunesvillage.com, and I invite you to check it out, if you're looking for a family getaway.

We would love to go back on another occasion, perhaps closer to the in season, so we could check out some of the other attractions that were closed this time 'round.

Now I'm racing the clock to play catch-up after our trip...and still have to unpack...but I look forward to seeing the photos from the trip and know that Seth will for a long time be talking about Dunes Village and the cool indoor water park.


PS -- If you like to read about travel, you might enjoy the website www.travelingmom.com. A friend of mine, Fran Capo, writes a blog there called Traveling Adventure Mom.

MISSING MOM

To give you an update....we made it through week three without a nanny unscathed, and things are gradually shaping up on this end.

We decided to enroll my son in an after school program for two days. Turns out a bunch of boys he knows are also in the program, so he's a happy camper about going there. And, we feel good about him having further socializing opportunities. Having him there is also helping me to straighten out my schedule, since I know that I have a bigger chunk of time available during the day to get things done. I feel a bit less like I'm racing the clock, though there still never seems to be enough hours in the day these days.

I've been sharing our nanny story with people gradually...those who knew her...and everyone is a bit stunned at the way it sadly concluded. Myself included, of course.

It made me think back to when Seth was a little one and how we've always had help. This is a whole new experience for us. So many moms I know have family support, which is so wonderful.

As Thanksgiving approaches, I become accutely conscious of family. I was speaking with one mom friend yesterday who mentioned she is cooking for 16. And, that she and her husband are going away in a couple of weeks to stay at a friends time share. Her parents or her husband's parents will stay with the kids (she has two) while they're gone.

I wondered...what is that like?

I am a "later" mom who is herself the product of "later" parents...and my mom passed away 10 years ago. My dad is a senior with health challenges. And, my husband lost his dad, and his mom is a senior. So, we have no parental help with Seth, and little family to spend holidays with. My sister and her family and my husband's brother and his family are all traveling for Thanksgiving.

I'm not a big entertainer, so I don't mind not having a crowd over for dinner. But, I do get a bit melancholy when I think of what holidays were like for me growing up. My mom would cook, and the whole house smelled great. And, I remember her signature recipes, i.e. matzoh stuff and pumpkin bread with chocolate chips. My husband now makes the pumpkin bread, which my son loves, and I feel like we're sharing a bit of my mom with him, who he never knew.

I mentioned to a new friend the other day that my mom never met my son and how much she would have loved him. I'm sad for that, though we talk about her and share her photos with Seth. And, one day (when I have the emotional strength) can show him videos. But, they remain hard for me to watch.

So, if you have your parents, I urge you to enjoy them and not just during the holidays. Stay in the moment. Treasure their presence in your family's life...even if the relationship isn't perfect. You'll miss them when they're gone, regardless, and perhaps wish things might have been different. So, seize this time and try to create as loving a scenario with them as you can.

I'd love to have my mom back, even for a moment, so she could smile at my son.

GOING ON TWO WEEKS NANNYLESS

My nanny left two weeks ago, and I've been counting the days, for better or worse.

I was spoiled, I admit it. We've had a nanny since Seth was born, and now I'm in a bit of culture shock. Me...do laundry? Me....cook? Me...make the beds?

But, really, it's for the best. It, sadly, ended in a more dramatic fashion that I ever would have imagined. And, it wasn't planned. But, it was a long time in the coming.

Our nanny wasn't well suited to Seth anymore. She is wonderful with babies who she can love and care for. But, for a busy five year old, he's more than she could handle on a daily basis. And, I understand. I'm 48 and peri-menopausal. Some days he knocks me out too, but he's my son...it's not a job I get paid to do.

We've all been adjusting. I feel like I'm racing the clock more these days since I have no flexibility with my schedule as I did before, since she was live-in.

But, we've decided to enroll Seth in an after school program for two days, starting today. I'm crossing my fingers that he'll like it. I feel like it's a good thing. More social time for him with peers. Also, probably, more exposure to germs, from what I hear...but hopefully his immune system can withstand it.

Part of me feels a bit guilty for putting him in a program after school because he won't get home until after 6PM now...a longer day than he's had. And, then we'll have homework. But, the other part of me is relieved that I have a greater chunk of time to get things done, and to hit the gym at 5pm, at least on Mondays, as I was used to. I've always been a night person and like to be out after dark.

Unfortunately, these days, my son is becoming a night person too, in that he doesn't want to sleep. He's seen monsters on 'n off since the nanny left. My guess is that he's feeling the loss and he's having nightmares. It's tough and sad. So, we've been reassuring him that mommy and daddy aren't going anywhere, in an effort to build back up his security. At his young age, he can't articulate all that he feels, so it's manifesting in restless nights.

I'm happy there's alot less tension in the house without our nanny. At times it felt like I had two children since they would disagree. He always loved her, but didn't learn to respect her since she never disciplined him. She always just wanted to be loved.

So, I wish our nanny well, and I know that we'll all get used to the new situation. Letting go is part of growth, and we're working on that a lot in my house these days.

Trip Guilt

I am so conflicted.

I'm off tomorrow for a six day jaunt to Canyon Ranch in Tucson where I'm leading two workshops based on my book HOW TO MARRY A MENSCH.

I'm going by myself, which is a unique traveling experience for me. And, I feel like I'm racing the clock like a crazy person. Doing even more multi-tasking than I already do.

Aside from packing and preparing for my talks, I'm jumping ahead to projects that will arise when I return, trying to anticipate tasks so I can potentially kickstart them now. And, I'm planning dinners for Seth while I'm gone, his snacks for school, etc.

No wonder I couldn't sleep last night, with all that is going through my head. I jumped up at 3AM to send myself an email on my Blackberry, so I'd get it at my computer this morning and not forget to do something.

Part of me finds the notion of the trip freeing. When was the last time I had an opportunity to really focus on myself, aside from lecturing to singles? As relaxed as I hope I'll be once there, I'm doing a number on myself right now to pack all the right things. I want to seize the vacation moment and read books I've been longing to get to...do some writing....chill....sleep later...and let my creative juices flow.

Yet, I don't want to have too many expectations for this trip. That's a lot of pressure. I need to live in the moment and let things unfold. That's when excitement can really kick in. But, I'm such a planner that I make myself nuts. It's not like this is the only vacation I'll ever have again, though I don't make a habit of going away without Marc and Seth. And, I'm only doing it now because of the speaking opportunity. I am very flattered to have been invited by Canyon Ranch to share my expertise as a dating book author. It is always gratifying to feel like I can help others.

So, back I go to my list making...leaving notes for my husband and nanny re: handling various matters during my time away.

I know things will be in good hands. Yet, it still feels odd to be flying the coop, so to speak. I'll miss everyone, though a little absence can make the heart grow fonder, as they say.

I bet, though, once I'm settled in my seat on the plane, I'll be grateful for some solitude and a break from everyday motherhood. How often as moms do we allow that for ourselves? It's so tough to give yourself permission, even if it's a short break.

We certainly do deserve it, so I'm going to try my best to leave my guilt at the door.

Have you gone away by yourself whether for business or pleasure, since becoming a mom? How was it for you?

Trip Up Memory Lane

I took a trip down memory lane this week.

I tagged along with Marc on his business trip to Nashville. It was my first time there and I didn't know what to expect.

We stayed at the gorgeous Gaylord Opryland Resort & Conference Center.

Marc was at the conference fulltime, so I was on my own for the most part.

Flying out we realized it was our first trip together, without Seth, since before becoming parents. Seth stayed home with our nanny. We didn't want to take him out of Kindergarten, as he is new at the school and all is going well so far. We'd like to keep it that way and not disrupt his routime.

So, while we were away together, we were basically ships that pass in the night due to his meeting schedule.

That said, I passed the time doing stuff that would interest me more than him anyway. This included shopping, getting a massage, and listening to music.

I discovered a surprising, newfound appreciation for musical expression. I had always heard about Nashville and it's music roots, but to experience it first hand is something I could not anticipate.

I went one evening to the famed Bluebird Cafe, where Garth Brooks got his break. I found myself totally captivated by the four songwriters who performed their own material. They had a great rapport, and such talent and hunger for success. You could feel them itching to be discovered (like many who come to Nashville), and you wondered if they would be. Some had already had their work performed/recorded by accomplished artists. Others were hoping for that, and one, in particular, the female of the foursome, wanted a recording career of her own.

What really struck me was the notion of people chasing their dreams with such a passon. And, the incredible talent of songwriters.

As an author, I've always loved the written word and its power to move people, but I never thought much about those sitting down to write a song. I do love Broadway, and being a long time theatre fan, I am in total awe of people like a Stephen Schwartz who wrote Wicked, Godspell, etc. But, to see someone sitting on a bar stool and strumming the heart out of a guitar or pounding the keyboards, was really raw and moving.

Mostly they were playing country tunes or ballads, but the final song of the evening caught me by surprise. I immediately recognized the pulsating beat. It was from Flashdance. How I had loved that movie! The song was Maniac, and it took me back to that time. Back to the days of cut off leggings. Back to a time when I would go dancing with friends at clubs. Back to my pre-motherhood and pre-marriage days.

Wow...if felt like a full lifetime ago. And, it made me remember how at that time, the world felt like my oyster. And, I too, had dreams to chase.

While I still have dreams, they're certainly not as easily pursued once you become a parent. Life is more complicated, and time feels tight. That's not to say it can't be done. And, we should stay true to ourselves and endeavor to keep those dreams alive.

So, I found myself thinking of this quick jaunt as a trip "up memory lane." I can still look up and reach for the sky, even though I've retired my leggings and disco shoes (at least for now). And, while I may do more chasing of my son than my dreams, I remain true to my aspirations. Seth would want it that way, and I feel lucky to share the ride with him to see where his life takes him as he evolves.

He'll have his own dreams, and one day I'll play the soundtrack from Flashdance for him.

POST VACATION

Wow....if I could have blogged during our vacation, it would have been such a great release, but I didn't have my compter with me.

It was great to get away, and actually had a really amazing experience. I had the opportunity to meet former President Clinton and Hillary, and to personally give President Clinton a signed copy of my book HOW TO MARRY A MENSCH(decent person). Very cool and quite surreal. It occurred to me afterwards that I should have suggested they pass it on to Chelsea, but perhaps they'll do so anyway.

Aside from this encounter, I celebrated my birthday by getting a facial and massage. As I get closer and closer to 50, it's hard to believe just how fast the years go.

And, I saw a newfound maturity of sorts in Seth this trip. He discovered the power of autonomy and exerted himself in a way I've never seen him do at home.

We vacation at Mohonk Mountain House in New Paltz every summer with family members, and have been since Seth was a baby. So, I guess, having grown up there, he has such a level of comfort and familiarity, that he feels he owns the place.

It began by him, along with my 14 year old niece, requesting a copy of our room key for himself. Of course, he kept leaving it in our room, and luckily the room number wasn't on it, in case he lost it outside the room.

Marc, my husband, went home two nights during the trip for a company workshop, and I was with Seth. One of the nights, he gave me quite a fright. He had been playing with a girl a bit older than him and didn't show up to meet me when he was supposed to. I wound up searching the resort and was on the verge of contacting security, when a friend of my sister told me she saw him. Turned out he had been playing in the girl's room, which was ok, except that he didn't tell me.

We bribed Seth to attend the morning session of camp by buying him a toy fireboat he could play with at the beach. Luckily, it worked, so Marc and I could at least get some down time or hiking time in before lunch.

Seth made friends so readily this trip, including a little girlfriend, who looked and acted like a female version of him. They were so totally cute. She doesn't live in NY, so we'll see if we see them again during a future Mohonk trip. We did take photos of them together. I'm curious to see his reaction when we get the photos developed.

As mature as he was trying to act, the five year old in him also emerged. There were a couple of minor poop accidents, losses of toys, and the most unreal pee accident. We had visited Woodstock one afternoon, and bought Seth a tye dyed rock 'n roll t-shirt.

One night he was too weary to put on his pajamas, so he decided to sleep in the shirt and short. Normally we prefer he wear PJs, but went along with it this time since it was vacation.

In the morning, we got quite a colorful surprise. Seth had been so exhausted, that he didn't go to the bathroom before he fell asleep. So, he had a pee accident during the night. When he woke up, the sheets of his bed were blue and purple, from the original white. The dye from the t-shirt had run and colored everything, including his stomach and arms. Just unreal!

We had a tye dye mess.

We threw Seth in the bathtub and scrubbed away, and quickly soaked the t-shirt and hung it in the shower stall, as it dripped further shades of blue and purple.

We were relieved, in a sense, that it happened at the hotel, since our sheets at home are patterned and we would not have been able to bleach out the colors.

So, I'd say our trip was quite eventful in more ways than one. While it's great to get away, it's good to be back home too.

One Great Child

I was at the pool over the holiday weekend, and someone from my community, who I don't know, spotted Seth in the pool and asked if he was my only one?

I found myself feeling defensive. Not just for myself as a mom, but protective in a sense for Seth. I quickly and thoughtfully responded, "Why do people say only one? As if he's not enough. I prefer to think of it as I am the mom to 'one great child.'"

I asked if he had any children. He took a moment, and interestingly responded, "I have one great child."

I laughed. He smiled.

It got me thinking. Why is it that one of the most common questions from complete strangers is, is he your only one? And, it often feels like it's said with a grain of sadness, as if the child is deprived.

Where did the phrase Only Child come from to begin with?

In my circle of "later mom" friends, there are many with one child. And, we don't think of ourselves or our children as lacking. I am grateful for my one son.

I know there are many discussions re: the pros and cons of being an only child. And, there are those of the school of thought that a child should have a sibling to grow up and old with. Especially so if they are conscious of their own mortality as a later mom. But, in my book, there is no guarantee siblings will be close, and I don't feel any more pressure as a later mom. It's not just blood that cements a relationship through the years.

I have many friends, for whatever reason, who are only children, and none are sad. They are cool, accomplished women, with a strong circle of friends who they cherish, perhaps even more so because they don't have a sibling. Most are close to extended family members as well. Each has successfully made their way in the world, despite having grown up as an only child.

It is a very personal decision to have children to begin with. And, on top of it, how many you would like to raise is another oh so personal question.

Newsweek recently ran a thought-provoking article entitled "Who Says Kids Make You Happy?" by Lorraine Ali. It's worth a read.

Some couples or individuals choose to live a child-free existance altogether. Does that make them selfish? Some might say. But, who is to say?

So, whether you choose to parent one child or more or none at all, there is more than one way to live a fulfilled life.

I have no doubt my son will grow into a happy adult who will find his personal path. And, despite being raised with no siblings, he will not want. He knows he is loved, and that is the most important thing a "later" or any parent can provide.

GUEST BLOG: A "LATER" DAD'S PERSPECTIVE (in time for Father's Day)

STAY-AT-HOME DAD
By Grigoriy Lerman
(husband to Amy Wall Lerman, Northern NJ Motherhood Later Chapter Head)

“Would you write a little something about being a stay-at-home dad?”

I was loading baby bottles into the dishwasher at the time and looked up in confusion for a few seconds and asked her to repeat the question.

“Would you write a little something about being a stay-at-home dad?”

My wife was clearly talking to me.

A stay-at-home dad? But I never thought that term applied to me. Am I a stay-at-home dad? Wait! I'm 40 years old. I've already had one career and am working on another.

I guess I thought I was at home studying for my CPA exams and running a small (very small) business on the side. And oh yes, there’s this baby boy I take care of as well. I do all that from home and she commutes to New York City every day. I guess the term does apply to me. It was not a conscious decision for me to stay home with our 6 months old son; it just kind of worked out that way.

What can I write about? What about the frustration I feel when I’m desperately trying to finish something before Evan starts crying and I have to drop everything and go feed him? Or the pain I feel when he is crying and no matter what I do I just cannot seem to make him feel better? Every parent has had those moments so what’s so unique about my situation?

I was thinking about this as I strapped Evan into his car seat one sweltering afternoon. He was cranky and refusing to take his afternoon nap and I had a home project to complete. We had just bought a home theater system and I wanted to find some small wooden shelves to place the speakers on in order to get that full surround sound effect. Nothing like a little father-and-son adventure as a means of distraction.

Before she ran out for her bus to work that morning, my wife suggested I check out Michael’s, “they have shelves there – I’ve seen them.”

The dreaded Michael’s: with its racks of Styrofoam balls, reams of ribbon and aisles of plastic orchids. She’d dragged me in there before. This does not sound like quite the adventure I had in mind. Oh, but if you are a man with a “Baby Bjorn” strapped to your chest, venturing into this kind of place very much can be. As soon as I walked into the store I noticed that we were not only adventurers - we were pioneers. My 6 month old son and I were the only 2 “men” in the place. Women of all ages were browsing through aisles of “stuff” - but there was not a man in sight.

Move forth and conquer, I thought, and a few minutes later I was engrossed with some small pieces of wood I found in the paint-it-yourself bird house section. That’s when I saw him. Another man had just walked into the store, but he was not alone and was clearly not there by his own will. He was trailing two women who had become quite involved with a selection of buttons and the guy was clearly bored. For a brief moment our eyes met and then he turned away. I could swear I saw a smirk. “What kind of a self-respecting man goes into Michael’s by his own choice?” he seemed to be asking. A wave of self-consciousness hit me like a truck.

In the next aisle Evan cooed and reached for a jar of bright red paint and I regained my self-control. So what if I am at home during the day with my son and shopping at Michaels? If I am a stay-at-home dad I will be the best stay-at-home dad I can be and I will be proud of it. By the time I found exactly what I needed, I had completely regained my confidence. After paying the store clerk I asked for a copy of their latest promotional flyer she had lying by her register. I will be back.

Mind Games

If I don't write this blog post now, I may forget what I wanted to write about.

Just kidding......but really I'm serious. My memory isn't what it used to be, and apparently I'm not alone. In the new course catalog I received this week from the Open Center in NY, one of the classes being offered is called Carved in Sand: When Attention Fails and Memory Fades in Midlife. The description goes on to say, "Anyone older than 40 knows that forgetfulness can be unnerving, frustrating and sometimes terrifying....." It is taught by an investigative journalist who has probed this subject for years and shares what the experts have to say.

Another class in the same catalog is called Brain Gym. Certainly an intriguing title. It's enough that I get myself to the gym for my body (not often enough). Do I have to create an exercise regime for my mind now too?

This is all too much to think about. But, I have found it harder to remember little things. I've always been someone who writes things down, and now I've even taken to emailing notes to myself from my cell phone when I'm out....so it's in my face and on my computer when I get home.

I know I'm 47, which is considered midlife, but am I losing my mind? Since I became a mom, my mind is definitely more cluttered, which doesn't help. So much to do...prepare....plan....and not just for me, but my son, our family, etc.

Guess I just have to accept it and cut myself some slack. As long as I don't forget to tell my son I love him, he won't realize that mommy has momentary memory lapses. And, he'll love me whether or not I forget where he put his Game Boy, favorite baseball cap.....etc.

Do you find it more challenging to remember certain things?