As I was happily reading "More" magazine last evening, home on a Saturday night after our children's behavior had dashed our family dinner plans out, when I began to experience an acute feeling of anxiety. At first, I couldn't put my finger on exactly why, so I began to analyze the situation. Yes, I was highly annoyed that we had no babysitter, that the high pitched playing/fighting was elevating, that I had been working for hours on end and wanted a break. But that wasn't what was bothering me. As I flipped through the mag, I realized that it was the Cadillac ad, the wrinkle cream, the graying Clairol treatment, the Alzheimer's treatment, the panty liners for bladder leakage that was triggering my response- and these were only subliminal. The articles on hearing loss, Fired at 50, and a bit on Debbie Harry really got me thinking that either this magazine is far below my demographic, or I am really really getting old. "Why do I even have this magazine?" I thought to myself... Well, I borrowed it from my gym. (I did ask...) I like the articles, the topics are intelligent and deep. I like who they interview and find the subject's experience(and age)gives her a perspective from which I would like to glean insight. So maybe I'm in the demographic. I mean possibly...
At this point of realization, one word began to repeat itself over and over in my mind, "necrosis". And then it really hit me as I started to do deep breathing exercises. Mortality was fast approaching! It's practically knocking on my backdoor! It's coming like an Acela train down the tracks right toward me and I am powerless to stop it! I have so much to do, to accomplish! And what am I doing? I need to get to work immediately! I haven't even come close to accomplishing my personal mission statement and I am wasting time! (pant, pant...)
I sat down on the couch and tried silently to compose myself so as not to alarm my children that their mother may die at any moment. They were happily playing Wii, and maneuvering in and out of towers and near death experiences...When suddenly three out of four of them crawled up onto my lap like little kittens. Their warm little bodies covered me like a blanket, and it all melted away, and I thought to myself, "Why am I wasting my time thinking about what could be when I have what is..." I wish I could bottle this moment, keep it with me all the time, and lock the back door, forever.
Colleen Shields is a writer, producer and mom. You can read her blogs and see her videos at http://themomtastics.com
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
10 Ways to Save Your Marriage
Sometimes as you are standing at the sink in the kitchen doing the dishes again, you just can't help but notice how nice your neighbor's patio is. You peek out back, to the space where your own patio could be, one day, with that outdoor couch set and the huge umbrella and lots of tropical trees strategically placed. But alas, you see grass, well sort of grass, maybe more mud than grass. And then it begins- you begin to notice the nicks in the walls from little matchbox cars, maybe a crayon or two going down the hallway, the dirty laundry pile which appears to be growing before your eyes...and you start to wonder, "Really, this is it?"
You see it didn't start out this way. You bought the house after an exhaustive search. You were excited and energized. You picked out paint colors together. You searched and found furniture for 'the perfect' spot. You happily hung pictures of new collages and arranged the pantry and bought the linens. You were busy creating a home. Eventually however, the paints are long put away, and the walls start to show their wear.
It seems to me, marriage is a lot like this house we make a home. We begin with excitement and a great spirit of hope for our future. We work feverishly to begin a life together. Eventually things settle in, and life happens. It seems to me this is when a perfectly good marriage begins to show its wear. I now long for the twenties, when I went to a lot of weddings, or the early thirties when I went to a lot of Christenings. The late thirties seem to involve a lot of divorce. So here is a bit of my perspective, which I wish that some of these same people would consider before they spend the rest of their life fighting over their children:
1. Get Over Yourself!: "I have a right to be happy"....No, You don't. Happiness is earned, and it has a lot to do with how hard you are willing to work for it.
2. Take Time: Do you go to the gym? Do you play an intramural sport? Do you go to classes to further your career? These are things you are doing to work on something. It's a concerted effort. Try giving your marriage a concerted effort. Guys- remember when you courted your wife? You worked on it. Now you need to work on it again.
3. Be Interested: When was the last time you showed interest in what your spouse does in their work life, spare time or home life?
4. Learn Something New Together: Discovering new territories of your relationship require you to change your perspective. Take a class together- online bible study, online cooking class, couples dancing class, online massage??? Figure it out.
5. Remember Why You Got Married: Stop fighting and remember back to why you got together in the first place. Look at old pictures and old journals. There was a reason you fell in love, find it.
6. Do Special Things for Each Other: Do one of the chores from your spouses list. Laundry is my domain, and I came home last night to about 6 loads folded and put away. It showed me that my husband truly loves me/has pity for me when I really need it.
7. Make Your Marriage a Priority: Sundays are my husbands only day off work, so I protect it like a Momma Bear. It's sacrosanct. I make no plans or commitments for the family. It's strictly our day as a family together. Treat your marriage like that.
8. Schedule Alone Time: Go away alone together once a year. If you can't afford it, have family or friends take your children for the night, and make your home a little escape for the night with lots of candles and great takeout- but no chores allowed.
9. Have Lots of Sex: Dr. Oz thinks our country is in a sex crisis cause we aren't having enough of it. Girls remember, sometimes sex is like running- you don't want to do it, you don't want to do it, then you do it, and you are like "Wow, why don't I do that more often?" Get creative, and do it, a lot of it.
10. Be Friends: Remember when you first started dating and were first married? Your spouse should be your best friend. He should be the first person you want to call when you have good news. If he's not, then you have a warning sign that attention is required!
Please for the love of God and all things sacred, work on your marriage people! I can't stand heartbreak and heartache...!
You see it didn't start out this way. You bought the house after an exhaustive search. You were excited and energized. You picked out paint colors together. You searched and found furniture for 'the perfect' spot. You happily hung pictures of new collages and arranged the pantry and bought the linens. You were busy creating a home. Eventually however, the paints are long put away, and the walls start to show their wear.
It seems to me, marriage is a lot like this house we make a home. We begin with excitement and a great spirit of hope for our future. We work feverishly to begin a life together. Eventually things settle in, and life happens. It seems to me this is when a perfectly good marriage begins to show its wear. I now long for the twenties, when I went to a lot of weddings, or the early thirties when I went to a lot of Christenings. The late thirties seem to involve a lot of divorce. So here is a bit of my perspective, which I wish that some of these same people would consider before they spend the rest of their life fighting over their children:
1. Get Over Yourself!: "I have a right to be happy"....No, You don't. Happiness is earned, and it has a lot to do with how hard you are willing to work for it.
2. Take Time: Do you go to the gym? Do you play an intramural sport? Do you go to classes to further your career? These are things you are doing to work on something. It's a concerted effort. Try giving your marriage a concerted effort. Guys- remember when you courted your wife? You worked on it. Now you need to work on it again.
3. Be Interested: When was the last time you showed interest in what your spouse does in their work life, spare time or home life?
4. Learn Something New Together: Discovering new territories of your relationship require you to change your perspective. Take a class together- online bible study, online cooking class, couples dancing class, online massage??? Figure it out.
5. Remember Why You Got Married: Stop fighting and remember back to why you got together in the first place. Look at old pictures and old journals. There was a reason you fell in love, find it.
6. Do Special Things for Each Other: Do one of the chores from your spouses list. Laundry is my domain, and I came home last night to about 6 loads folded and put away. It showed me that my husband truly loves me/has pity for me when I really need it.
7. Make Your Marriage a Priority: Sundays are my husbands only day off work, so I protect it like a Momma Bear. It's sacrosanct. I make no plans or commitments for the family. It's strictly our day as a family together. Treat your marriage like that.
8. Schedule Alone Time: Go away alone together once a year. If you can't afford it, have family or friends take your children for the night, and make your home a little escape for the night with lots of candles and great takeout- but no chores allowed.
9. Have Lots of Sex: Dr. Oz thinks our country is in a sex crisis cause we aren't having enough of it. Girls remember, sometimes sex is like running- you don't want to do it, you don't want to do it, then you do it, and you are like "Wow, why don't I do that more often?" Get creative, and do it, a lot of it.
10. Be Friends: Remember when you first started dating and were first married? Your spouse should be your best friend. He should be the first person you want to call when you have good news. If he's not, then you have a warning sign that attention is required!
Please for the love of God and all things sacred, work on your marriage people! I can't stand heartbreak and heartache...!
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Fallen and You Can't Get Up?
I believe that everyone, especially mothers, and even most especially "stay-at-home" mothers should have an outlet- something that she looks forward to that she can call her own. The outlet should stroke the alter ego a bit; it should remind her of all that she is capable of, beyond a very tidy and punctual carpool schedule. The little escape from all that is mothering should give her a little abandon; a feeling of "yes I can!". This activity should have preferably nothing to do with her children, her husband, or anyone under her care. She should feel like "Yes, at this moment, my needs are on the top of the list!"
Of course, I have the very biased opinion that mothers are most deserving of such an activity, as they give, give and give some more to others all day long, with little thanks, no pay and certainly no accolades, promotions or three-day two-night excursions for doing the most dishes in a single month. The activity of choice for me is the gym.
When I share with people how often I workout, (which is about 3-5 days per week), they often respond "Oh not me, no way, I don't want to walk a mile much less run on a treadmill for an hour." But what they don't know is this is my secret alter ego. As a former ballet dancer, my hour of glee every Monday morning is step aerobics with uber instructer Debbie Martinez at Premiere Fitness. Doing step is like another world for me. I can go back to my old glory days, albeit just for a moment, and recreate and incorporate as many piroettes as possible into the routine. I think at first it may have been confusing to people, "Why is this girl trying to turn this step class into a ballet routine...??" But now, I think my co-steppers are used to it, and may even understand the heights of happiness I reach when I think, I can still do this...
But sometimes the reality of life and all that we can escape from comes back in a flash, smacking us back to the present. Sometimes even step cannot save us from ourselves and the reality that the ballet career is long past, and will never ever return. And that day did come for me, when in the middle of a cross-over back turn-kick my footed slipped from under me and I landed on my back, splade out in middle of the floor. Yes, the reality of the present was there, for all to witness.
However, stepping on Monday mornings, is a bit like life. Sometimes, just when you are going, in your groove with all the hope and possibilities of the future ahead of you, you trip, and life comes crashing down upon you. It seems lately I have witnessed this quite frequently and many times, I have seen people languish on the floor, wincing and flustered from their momentary failure. And still others seem to get up, right away, as though it never happened. Of course, for me, the next part of the routine was coming up, so a quick recovery was required. I believe it probably will not be the last time I fall, but I will always always get up without a thought because step, like life, is too gleeful to miss.
You can read more of Colleen's blogs and see her videos at TheMomtastics.com.
Of course, I have the very biased opinion that mothers are most deserving of such an activity, as they give, give and give some more to others all day long, with little thanks, no pay and certainly no accolades, promotions or three-day two-night excursions for doing the most dishes in a single month. The activity of choice for me is the gym.
When I share with people how often I workout, (which is about 3-5 days per week), they often respond "Oh not me, no way, I don't want to walk a mile much less run on a treadmill for an hour." But what they don't know is this is my secret alter ego. As a former ballet dancer, my hour of glee every Monday morning is step aerobics with uber instructer Debbie Martinez at Premiere Fitness. Doing step is like another world for me. I can go back to my old glory days, albeit just for a moment, and recreate and incorporate as many piroettes as possible into the routine. I think at first it may have been confusing to people, "Why is this girl trying to turn this step class into a ballet routine...??" But now, I think my co-steppers are used to it, and may even understand the heights of happiness I reach when I think, I can still do this...
But sometimes the reality of life and all that we can escape from comes back in a flash, smacking us back to the present. Sometimes even step cannot save us from ourselves and the reality that the ballet career is long past, and will never ever return. And that day did come for me, when in the middle of a cross-over back turn-kick my footed slipped from under me and I landed on my back, splade out in middle of the floor. Yes, the reality of the present was there, for all to witness.
However, stepping on Monday mornings, is a bit like life. Sometimes, just when you are going, in your groove with all the hope and possibilities of the future ahead of you, you trip, and life comes crashing down upon you. It seems lately I have witnessed this quite frequently and many times, I have seen people languish on the floor, wincing and flustered from their momentary failure. And still others seem to get up, right away, as though it never happened. Of course, for me, the next part of the routine was coming up, so a quick recovery was required. I believe it probably will not be the last time I fall, but I will always always get up without a thought because step, like life, is too gleeful to miss.
You can read more of Colleen's blogs and see her videos at TheMomtastics.com.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
No Sleep Tonight
Many people contend that mini-van drivers are the worst on the road. I believe this is directly attributable to sleep-deprivation. Like millions of mothers around the world, I woke up this morning, just like yesterday morning: feeling like I didn't actually go to bed, I just took a series of short naps. The larger the family, the greater the odds that someone is cold, scared, has wet the bed, coughing, throwing up, and everyone's favorite- hungry. I have lots of tips on how to get them to stay in bed, but all bets are off when one of the latter comes to pass at night. It seems most nights recently, entail one of these states of panic, turmoil, and bleary eyed pep at three a.m., while changing the bed, the child, finding the medicine, measuring it out, and getting thrown up on. In an effort not to grow to the point of unmitigated resentment, I had a little mantra that I used to get through the most recent night, and it actually worked, and kept me equipped with an overwhelming sense of appreciation for my little darlings all day, even while I slept at the red light. So here it is, "It won't be long before they never want to be in my bed...."
Soon I will sleep soundly through the night, without interruption. There will be no child longing to just be next to me. There will be no cry for my help and comfort. There will be no fat cheek to kiss and little tears to wipe away. The house will be perfect. There will be no little handprints on the walls, no eternal crumbs around the house. There will be no little toys left in strange places like pockets, and shoes and bathroom cabinets. The tubs will be spotless with no toys to clean up. There will be perfect grass in the yard, all alive and green with no little footprints back and forth to the swing set. The yard will be quiet with no screaming and yelling and running back and forth. Meals will be quiet with no interruptions. Car rides will be quiet and peaceful with no bickering and fighting singing and laughing. Weekends will be free with no little person demanding breakfast at 5 am. There will be no crafts and crayons and glue about the house. The birthday parties will not require the colorful wrapping paper and trips to pickup toys. The nights will be quiet and I will sleep. I will sleep without interruption, and the aching sense that I wish I had stopped to appreciate the little hand in mine asking for my help, my warmth and my comfort. That really in the end, sleep will be had, one day, just not today. Today I will revel in all that will eventually end; I will love tonight.
Soon I will sleep soundly through the night, without interruption. There will be no child longing to just be next to me. There will be no cry for my help and comfort. There will be no fat cheek to kiss and little tears to wipe away. The house will be perfect. There will be no little handprints on the walls, no eternal crumbs around the house. There will be no little toys left in strange places like pockets, and shoes and bathroom cabinets. The tubs will be spotless with no toys to clean up. There will be perfect grass in the yard, all alive and green with no little footprints back and forth to the swing set. The yard will be quiet with no screaming and yelling and running back and forth. Meals will be quiet with no interruptions. Car rides will be quiet and peaceful with no bickering and fighting singing and laughing. Weekends will be free with no little person demanding breakfast at 5 am. There will be no crafts and crayons and glue about the house. The birthday parties will not require the colorful wrapping paper and trips to pickup toys. The nights will be quiet and I will sleep. I will sleep without interruption, and the aching sense that I wish I had stopped to appreciate the little hand in mine asking for my help, my warmth and my comfort. That really in the end, sleep will be had, one day, just not today. Today I will revel in all that will eventually end; I will love tonight.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
The Miracle of Thy Neighbor
The natural undisaster of a snow storm and the kindness of neighbors is inspiration without misery...
I believe Snowmageddon was an experience we will all remember and share for a lifetime. The testament to the human spirit was seen so often, it is difficult to choose just one to highlight. There was the scene of neighbors in every driveway down the road, one by one, like a well choreographed dance in between five foot drifts of pure white snow, shoveling while chatting, laughing and sharing. There was the potlucks and get togethers with children running all around, with lots of chatter and drinks. There was neighbors shoveling and snow plowing other neighbors, digging out each other's cars, and the brave one bringing groceries back and forth. There was the herd of midshipmen valiantly volunteering through the city, bringing food to the elderly. There were strangers talking and sharing, pushing cars out of the snow, inspired to stop, help, give. There was a palpable sense that we were in this together, this shared experience, this moment in time which we felt may last forever. Snowmageddon of twenty-ten, it was an unforgettable experience. Although challenging, it was as close to you could get to a natural disaster, except without the disaster. We were stuck. But we were stuck together. I realize for some this blizzard brought misery in the form of no heat and electricity, lost income and hypothermia. But for majority of us, I believe it was an excellent exercise in "Shut up and Stop". We all had to stop our uber busy lives, and co-exist. I am proud to say I saw the best in my neighbors, and I am abundantly proud to say that we did pretty darn well making the best of Snowmegeddon, together in soft fluffy white harmony.
I believe Snowmageddon was an experience we will all remember and share for a lifetime. The testament to the human spirit was seen so often, it is difficult to choose just one to highlight. There was the scene of neighbors in every driveway down the road, one by one, like a well choreographed dance in between five foot drifts of pure white snow, shoveling while chatting, laughing and sharing. There was the potlucks and get togethers with children running all around, with lots of chatter and drinks. There was neighbors shoveling and snow plowing other neighbors, digging out each other's cars, and the brave one bringing groceries back and forth. There was the herd of midshipmen valiantly volunteering through the city, bringing food to the elderly. There were strangers talking and sharing, pushing cars out of the snow, inspired to stop, help, give. There was a palpable sense that we were in this together, this shared experience, this moment in time which we felt may last forever. Snowmageddon of twenty-ten, it was an unforgettable experience. Although challenging, it was as close to you could get to a natural disaster, except without the disaster. We were stuck. But we were stuck together. I realize for some this blizzard brought misery in the form of no heat and electricity, lost income and hypothermia. But for majority of us, I believe it was an excellent exercise in "Shut up and Stop". We all had to stop our uber busy lives, and co-exist. I am proud to say I saw the best in my neighbors, and I am abundantly proud to say that we did pretty darn well making the best of Snowmegeddon, together in soft fluffy white harmony.
Friday, February 5, 2010
My Love-Hate Relationship With Snow
All the mothers reading this will know just what I'm talking about, but for the benefit of those who do not have little darlings of their own, I will explain. Imagine if people came to your house, during a snow storm up to 30 times in a day? Now imagine they came in, with wind howling, snow coming sideways, with wet boots and coats, squealing in delight, and they then they walk through the house, after they had left the door open? Being the diligent hostess that you are, you are able to intercept them just before they take their muddy wet boots through your carpet. You turn them around and request they remove their wet things before doing any further destruction. They oblige, except they need you to do it for them. They have a wooonnderful time, they run and jump and play, then they eat, and spill, and as you are attending to them, the crunching under your feet and theirs reminds you what you were doing before the spill- getting the broom. Then they skip off happily and finally ask to be dressed so they can leave, which they do after they have discovered every new toy in your house, which is now out for everyone to enjoy...
Oh dear baby Jesus help me get through this snow! So, like millions of mothers in our area in the middle of a foreboding blizzard, my anxiety level begins to spike as I contemplate the 6 am mornings demanding to be "dwessed in snow cwothes", all the wet towels all over the floors, and the hot chocolate which they demand, receive and then never drink because "it's too hot." Do I sound bitter?
So I was sharing my sense of quiet fear with my boxing buddy, and she said to me "Oh well, you are so lucky." "Lucky!" I scoffed, as I donned my new pink gloves, "Oh yes. See my children are too old to play in the snow, they don't even sled. The snow is not fun anymore." She slipped into class.
And then I recalled the night before, the spoons under the pillows, their pajamas inside out and backwards, the bets on the number of inches and the pure unabated excitement that my children felt, and it all became clear: If only I could stop being an adult long enough to feel the joy of my children, I would have a wonderful weekend. (I also could mix that with adult fun, and have a blockbuster weekend.) And so, I stocked up on all the provisions of snacks, lots of hot cocoa, plenty of towels and plan to go sledding on the highest hill I can find. I hope all of you find your inner child this weekend and enjoy the snow even more than your children. It is my goal to stump them, get them to look at me sideways and think "who are you" As you see, normally mommy watches them sled, in part to avoid the snow in my jeans and in part to be ready at any moment to save one of them who may be sliding off a cliff. I will let you know how it goes, and encourage all of you to do the same...
Oh dear baby Jesus help me get through this snow! So, like millions of mothers in our area in the middle of a foreboding blizzard, my anxiety level begins to spike as I contemplate the 6 am mornings demanding to be "dwessed in snow cwothes", all the wet towels all over the floors, and the hot chocolate which they demand, receive and then never drink because "it's too hot." Do I sound bitter?
So I was sharing my sense of quiet fear with my boxing buddy, and she said to me "Oh well, you are so lucky." "Lucky!" I scoffed, as I donned my new pink gloves, "Oh yes. See my children are too old to play in the snow, they don't even sled. The snow is not fun anymore." She slipped into class.
And then I recalled the night before, the spoons under the pillows, their pajamas inside out and backwards, the bets on the number of inches and the pure unabated excitement that my children felt, and it all became clear: If only I could stop being an adult long enough to feel the joy of my children, I would have a wonderful weekend. (I also could mix that with adult fun, and have a blockbuster weekend.) And so, I stocked up on all the provisions of snacks, lots of hot cocoa, plenty of towels and plan to go sledding on the highest hill I can find. I hope all of you find your inner child this weekend and enjoy the snow even more than your children. It is my goal to stump them, get them to look at me sideways and think "who are you" As you see, normally mommy watches them sled, in part to avoid the snow in my jeans and in part to be ready at any moment to save one of them who may be sliding off a cliff. I will let you know how it goes, and encourage all of you to do the same...
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
A Cautionary Tale of Pride, Blood and Domesticity
To all my friends who I have successfully fooled that I have got my act together....Let me set the record straight. Today- I was very proud of myself for finally sewing the badge on my son's karate uniform. The first go around it was crooked. My mother suggested I pin it in place before trying again which I did. The second go around...I sewed the arm shut...yes shut, right through the other side. The good news is, I realized it before he tried to put it on. Even after my first two vaguely pathetic rounds at domesticity, I was finally proud of myself. Mission accomplished! I sent my little dragon off to karate and patted myself on the back. When he came home, I said "Don't you think you need to Thank Mommy for sewing your badge on (finally)," he said "Yeah, but mom you know you left the pin on the uniform." He spins around "The teacher was bleeding"...."Bleeding," I said, "Yeah," he said "There is this really important part, the most important part of the class, when she stops and she puts one hand one your wrist and one on your shoulder, " (Oh God Oh God!), "So she puts her hand on my shoulder, and its all quiet, and then you stuck her and she bleed all over the place." "Oh God!" I said, "Oh no." "But, thanks anyway Mom." So much for domesticity....Till tonight, when I burnt the chicken parmesan...
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