Return

I'm awfully glad the blog is still here and available.  I'd misunderstood a warning email I'd gotten about "retiring" something and not having access to it after May 31, and I was afraid it was about my blog.  (I'd managed to ignore it anyway).  I miss my blog, and I especially miss writing.  I really need to get back into it. It's better than therapy, really, and I'm afraid I've forgotten how to do it.  Once I started posting single sentence zingers on facebook, and getting all that feedback from old high school buddies, neighbors and distant family members, my desire to put together whole essays waned.  Also my ability. I think this has happened throughout the internet world.  iPhones and twitter have made us think we need only post 4 words out there, and we can get all kinds of responses and feedback and love. It's a myth, however.

So here I am trying to write again.  It's going to be difficult to retrain my brain to write in this way, I believe. But it will be a worthwhile exercise. And if I stick with it, maybe the ability to focus will spill over into the rest of my life, and I'll stop losing things and missing appointments and leaving everything half finished.  Maybe...

St. Augustine Beach, April 2012

Compassion

I'm going to do a little experiment. I'm going to try and let go. I mean, stop trying to micromanage everything and see what happens. Also, be kinder. Let compassion guide me. It's embarrassing to admit, but I think I can be very unkind. Unyielding too. Hold people to too high expectations. A little like Katherine Hepburn's character in The Philadelphia Story. (Only without the willowy stature and elegant clothing). My standards are too high, maybe. And I'm hard to please.

The message of benevolence has been relayed to me from many voices over the past several months. Church. Yoga class. Doctor's offices. Books by Elizabeth Gilbert. I just haven't been putting them together. Essentially the message is this: Love and compassion are the way to eternal peace and divinity. God is compassion. A life of love is a life of peace. And it's weird, because I know I love my kids and my husband more than anything. But there is rarely peace.

Also, the more I try to control, the less effective I am. And the more worried and tense that I feel. What do I think, that if I don't act, the world will stop turning on its axis? The birds will fall out of the sky? The kids' performance in school will decline miserably? I'm not sure what I think, but those options all sound pretty pompous.

I try to be loving. I could say that all my actions (and reactions) are out of love. But to be kinder. To be more understanding. To act with compassion. These are the goals of this experiment.

I'll start with one week. Just try to let go. And be kind.

I'll be yar, now. I promise.

You call these "Adventures?"

OK. So here's the thing. The real, true "adventures" of this mama, are really no good for sharing. They are just too... well, let's say, controversial. And I've felt this before about blogging. I'm either being to candid and sharing too many intimate details of my life. Or, I'm retelling them in too casual a way, with not enough respect to the actual event. What the hell am I talking about, anyway?

The thing is that things can get really adventurous over here in this household, and I try very hard to keep things together and under control. And these are not times I can feel comfortable sharing. That is the thing.

I spend a fair amount of time internalizing this stuff, when it gets really hard, and to spew it all over a stupid blog seems ridiculous and counterproductive. So I guess I'll keep the darkest secrets to myself.

JD Salinger died yesterday. Such a weird coincidence because Jack just started reading The Catcher in the Rye not 2 days ago. I gave it to him for Christmas - it's perfect for his current state of mind and intellect. But he only started reading it (with loads of encouragement from me) Monday. And he loves it. And now Salinger is dead. And the radio is just lousy with retrospectives and remembrances. Funny.

Memorandum

To: Christmas 2010

From: Christmas 2009

A few notes for the incoming candidate.

1. Make sure you plan the date to buy the tree and set it up. Make it a special day, with plenty of time both to buy the tree and decorate it. Serve hot chocolate and snacks and take your time about decorating. Also, and this is important - It's Sophia's turn to pick out the right tree. Let her pick exactly the one she wants. And make sure it's BIG. We have a LOT of ornaments and we want them all to fit!

2. Pick out new ornaments sometime during the year. One for each of the kids. Something to celebrate the accomplishments of the year. Or remember an event. These I can purchase way before Christmas.

3. Take out the advent tree (and fill with little gifts) at Thanksgiving!!

4. Oh, and buy new lights as soon as you see them! The stores run out if you wait. And we want to buy LED blue lights for Pop's Blue Spruce. Don't forget that.

One last thing: Don't forget the sage comment Sophia made about the Christmas tree on January 12, 2010. It went something like this: "The tree represents life. That never ends. That's why it's an evergreen." And I said, what about the ornaments? "They represent the past years and tradition and memories and things you do together."

You do know the true meaning of Christmas, then, don't you!

Time to try something new

It's been a while. Since I've tried something new. Being middle aged. Having a regular job. Being married with children. And all the responsibilities that go with it. Non of these things are conducive to trying new things. But all the more reason for me to do it. I gotta get outta the grind, man. Even in a teeny tiny way.

So I'm gonna try blogging again. I know that's not exactly new, but I'm gonna try to do it differently. I'm going to write more ... off the cuff. No starting on Word and using the thesaurus and rereading and editing and all. This is gonna be more free-form. Free flowing and stuff like that. I don't think anyone really reads this shit any more anyway, so that's a big weight off my back. If no one's actually checking it out, this blog can go any which way.

So tonight it's going in this direction: How the hell do we teach values to our kids without teaching about some higher beings (i.e. God) or some higher order (the scouts)? I've recently lost quite a bit of faith in the former, and I've never been much of a fan of the latter. I know I can tell my kids what I value. I can show them, even. And I can encourage them to value the same things. But even with the basic things: honesty, responsibility, compassion and caring- If they only learn these from me, what happens when they need to rebel against me? (And they will. They're supposed to.) Who or what can they hold these values up to? Who holds them accountable?

Do kids' moral values develop progressively? Like their intellect or their ability to reason? Or do they have to be taught? Do values need to be reinforced outside the home in order for them to stick? Or does a good and solid family offer enough support?

Small Gifts

Lately I've been blessed with a few small gifts.

The simplest was time. Time to do nothing. Time with my oldest friend on a beautiful fall weekend getaway. Time to slow down and relax with my family. Time alone. This is the commodity I miss most as a working mom. Without enough time, I find myself late for appointments, late to pick up the children, rushing from one thing to the next, often forgetting things along the way. Yesterday and today, I had very little scheduled. I was at leisure to get things done at my own pace, and had no deadlines. I caught up on paperwork, talked on the phone with a friend for an hour, had a leisurely dinner out with my husband, hung around the house with my kids and had a wonderful solitary walk - long enough to listen to a whole episode of This American Life.

Another gift I received this weekend, is the gift of my children. No - they haven't been away at a work camp since the last time I wrote. But last night I was able to see them a little differently. They are so smart and sweet and helpful. Funny, creative, insightful, and responsible. They are unique - as a group, and individually. I feel unbelievably proud of them today.

I seem to be blessed also, at this moment, with the privilege of hindsight. I attended a PTA meeting this week and I had a little realization - the kind of group that I was hoping to lead 3 years ago finally exists. The work I started with my leadership, seems really to have come around. What a gift to see progress made on something you care about and something you invested in. (I also have the gift of knowing and meeting so many dedicated women!)

There's more, like perspective and patience, the love of my family (which, though it never wanes, sometimes feels different), but I can't write any more now. My time alone is gone. But maybe the sweetest gift I got today was the beautifully scented roses that are still blooming in my yard. I cut a few and carefully placed them in a vase. Their scent is unbelievably cheering - despite the foggy drizzly weather. And today I had plenty of time to stop and smell them.

**Out of Focus**

I've been away for so long, I hardly know how to come back. I have an idea for a post, and I'm developing it in my head and in the margins of my Sudoku book, which is the only thing I seem to be able to focus on for more than 30 seconds at a time. My mind is so distracted and my thoughts so jumbled and my time so short, I can't seem to put the words together on paper - or on screen, I should say.

Funny thing - at work, I've been told, "You seem really focused." or "You have a way of really focusing on a task and getting it done." And I'm like, "What, me? Focused? Huh??"

Maybe I use up all my focus at the office. Very little left for home and even less for the blog.

More soon...

It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world.

Sorry I've been unavailable to update the blog in the past couple of months. Seems I haven't yet adjusted to the 20 hours of work (plus the almost 8 more I spend commuting). I love my job. I really do. I love the group of scientists and researchers I administer to. And my boss has to be the best boss on earth. Really. No exaggeration. Kids are good, though also trying to adjust. Husband's good - supportive as he can be while running a contracting business in this newly competitive market. He makes all the lunches now - and my coffee (VERY important). Sister is having her struggles (again), but I think she's over the hump. You wouldn't believe it if I told you. The poor girl cannot catch a break.

Here are some photos to update you and keep you coming back.

Would You Stop Pushing Me

I've been thinking about the way I "push" my kids. I am a "pushy" sort of mom. I push them to do their work and do well in school. I push them into activities they don't really want to do. I push them to help around the house. All reasonable requests, I feel. The problem is this sensation of pushing.

I want my kids to be more independent. More adventurous. More willing to do things for themselves. I want them to want to do well in school, participate, and help around the house. At least that's what I think I want. In reality, though, I am always there, just behind them, giving them that little pressure. How would I know if they could or would do it on their own? How would they know, for that matter?

Maybe I am afraid that they would fail. I know if I "leave them alone for 5 minutes," (said with a high pitched, high volume mom voice), chaos breaks out and there's some combination of food fight, prank phone calls and couch diving. That's an exaggeration. What happens, in reality, is that they get loud and silly and sometimes some one gets hurt. Then I come running down the stairs to yell at everyone. I wonder, though, what would happen if I gave it more than 5 minutes. Or more than one try. I wonder if my eldest might be the voice of reason, explaining to the others that it's not a good idea to play tag in the house, and the others listening and agreeing reasonably. Or something close to that.

Maybe I'm afraid they'll succeed, though. Maybe that's my bigger fear. Because then, they wouldn't need me as much. I'm pretty sure that would be OK with me, but there's a little voice down deep that doesn't seem to agree. It's a big change for me, too. I think I really need to sit down with myself and decide what I want more: kids who are independent, or kids who are needy.

I think I know the answer already...

The 44th president of the United States was sworn in today. Some Americans are skeptical - will it be the "same show, different channel?" I don't think so.

It is we, the people, who have changed this time, not just the Commander in Chief. We are more involved and more compassionate. We won't let another administration lead us along and let us down. We will do our part, because we are called to. And because we've sat on the sidelines and watched for too long. And because our president will inspire us to act.

The country chose hope over fear. I'm proud and I'm hopeful for our future.

Working Mama

Well, the newest chapter in my life has begun: I officially started work at SUNY Stony Brook today. No more SAHM here. (That's "stay at home mom" for those of you who don't know Urban Baby discussion board language). (Oh, and SUNY is the State University of New York). I've joined the ranks of mothers who bring their kids to school in decent shoes and wearing make-up, and then march off to the office, shop, job site, studio.

What an enormous change! Wearing make-up - at 8 AM! I'm a woman who walked my kids to the end of the driveway to put them on the bus, in her pajamas! It had gotten so that I actually drove - 4 miles away - to my son's school to drop him off, again, in my pajamas!

So now I have to dress well, leave the house promptly and have the kids do a lot more for themselves. I can't direct them through every step of dressing and readying for school. Jack has to take the bus - even the early bus, which comes at 6:55. No more rides from mommy. And everyone has to pitch in with breakfast dishes and feeding the cat.

It's too early to comment on the job itself. My first day started with no phone line, no email address and a desk piled high with piles of... I don't know what because I don't now what anything is. I even managed to spill a little coffee on my mouse pad. No one bothered me, though. I felt a little like George Costanza when he got that new job and had to pretend to be working on "The Pensky File." I kept shuffling papers around and looking busy, so in case anyone did stop in, it wouldn't look too bad. (OK, I'm exaggerating, but not by much).

I chalked it up to typical first day trials and left my office with a smile on my face.

Wait, where did I leave?

My Office.

That's what I thought I'd said. That feels pretty cool.

Holiday Blogging Blues

I am so lame for not posting for an entire MONTH! You all are lame to still be reading, if you ask me. But nobody asked me, so...

I've been so distracted lately. So much is going on. We got a new computer. AND printer. And the new microsoft office 2007, for which the learning curve is longer than any of the other stuff I've installed. (Did I use "learning curve" correctly? I hate that expression. I'm simply being lazy and again, lame, to use it so carelessly). I had to reload all my documents, music, pictures and I've been trying to organize it all. Then, a friend strong-armed me into joining facebook. Now that's a time-waster, dontcha know. But I had to upload all the photos, and find all the friends and all that important stuff.

Then there was all the Christmas shopping. I know that if you're a parent, you know how hectic and stressful this time of year can be. My fellow blogger, Six, touched on the "financial, emotional and physical stress" of the holidays. Amen, brother. I still can't believe how much money I spent on 3 people under the age of 13. I had to find the right things, and the an equal amount of them. I had to combine what they wanted with what I wanted them to have. It all takes such a toll on me, since no one really wants to emphasize materialism at Christmastime. Which is why I put so much energy into decorating and keeping up special family traditions. The whole thing drains me, I tell you.

Add to that the little fact that I got a job! I didn't actually start doing it yet, but I accepted a part time administrative assistant's position in the Chemistry department at Stony Brook University. It's exciting, if not terribly well-paying. We'll be able to get health benefits, which is HUGE for us. And I'm finally moving ahead with my plans to return to school someday. But I gotta tell you - I believe I was in shock for the first couple of weeks there. I could hardly get my head around going out to work after being a stay at home mom for the past 12 years. I didn't even tell anyone for the first few days. It's taken quite a lot of getting used to, and as I mentioned, I didn't even start yet!!

All this and kids home for two whole weeks leaves this Mama very little time to blog. And I can tell you that the wintertime blues are starting to set in for me as well. I've fed my inner core with very little good stuff so very little creative stuff comes back.

I realize these are all terrible excuses and I go back to saying how lame I've been for neglecting my little blog. But I haven't forgotten it, nor have I stopped loving it.

I promise to be more attentive in 2009. It will be one of my new year's resolutions.

Life in the Mamacole household has calmed down a little since the headaches seem to be gone. Thanksgiving has come and gone.
The election is long over.
I have very little to complain about and I believe I have a bit of writer's block.
I wish I could say that it's just recently that I haven't been able to put thoughts together and sound interesting and funny. But I'm afraid it's been a really long while. And I've begun to bore myself.
So I'm taking a page from the sitcoms and throwing in a "retrospective" type post here. We'll go back and relive some of the better moments with Mamacole and perhaps that will keep the viewers engaged another couple of weeks.
One of my earliest posts was about scrubbing the kitchen floor. I think this might be my favorite post ever (has it been all downhill since July 2007?) My most commented on post was about mammograms. Although my laundry post garnered a lot of commentary too.
I'm starting to get cold feet on this whole "best-of" Mamacole thing. Now I'm not only bored, but embarrassed.
It's just a thinly veiled attempt to make a good first impression. Just in case I get any new readers. I don't want anyone to judge me on my recent posts.
Spend some time. Go back to some of my older stuff. There's some funny stuff back there!

Thanksgiving Misgivings

I woke this morning with a feeling of "free floating anxiety," a term coined by one of my best friends, who is now no longer with us. I was both tense and tired, as I realized how much there is left to do before the big holiday feast.

But I quickly thought of two things that I must repeat to myself all day.

1. The more tense I am, the more I seem to procrastinate and that in turn makes me more tense and worried. I must FIGHT this cycle and I must fight it all day. If I can break this, I will be able to get more done.

2. It is selfish to worry about what is on my plate, when others have so little. I am fortunate to have a big family who loves me, a big-enough house to host them all and a warm and generous husband to support me through it all. I have spent a lot of holidays over the years feeling sorry for myself. This is not the way to honor our fore-fathers and -mothers and it is not a way to show gratitude to our Creator. I will also fight this feeling and express gratitude in the form of enjoying my holiday and the time leading up to it.

Oh, there is one more thing: I am easily distracted by the computer and the phone. I will need to log off this sucker and turn the phone ringer off. I will call folks later, to wish them a happy holiday, when I have more time. Right now, I will focus on what I have to do, and try to enjoy the fact that I am able to do it.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you! Have a great one!

Limitations

The boy seems to be getting better, though not through medications. We see a chiropractor, whom I love and trust, but I don't think it's her either. What I do think is helping is this: I've been gradually removing pressure and stress from my son's life. Over the past week, with almost nothing to "worry" about, he has had zero headaches. Wait - there was one - a very short one that went away after a quick nap. But essentially, he has returned to the happy, confident 12 year old boy he'd been at the end of the summer.

So now the question is, how do we add back some of the stuff he's been missing, and still keep him healthy. I think I know the answer to that too. I think I've finally accepted this child's limitations. Attending seventh grade, staying organized and focused on 7 different classes each day, making his way home and through his homework is almost as much as he can do right now. I may not be able to add back the other stuff for a while. Or at least, only add one thing at a time. And that is OK.

He may also need some help with the social aspect of middle school as well. From what I hear, and I've had many many conversations about this over the past two weeks, seventh grade is the hardest grade in this school district for several reasons. Social pressure and changes are not the least of them. The transition from a nurturing single-teacher school day to several serious teachers, whom expect kids to be responsible on their own is another. The third is the actual workload. Although, without sounding too boastful, my boy has no trouble with the material. He's as bright as they come. And each of the 4 tutors he had here (the school district provides home instruction to students who miss an excessive amount of school. Who knew?) agreed with me. This is one smart boy. A great reader. Articulate, creative, curious, interested. He sees connections. He "gets it." So it's not the academics I'm worried about.

Last year we were worried that he didn't take enough responsibility. This year, he worries too much. He told me this week that I showed him how he "has to worry. Or things might go wrong." I said that? Yikes. That's another thing I've lifted off him this week.

What I've realized about my boy Jack is that, along with his limitations, this child has many outstanding talents as well. And once I can examine and accept both his talents and limitations, I can lighten up a little. I can truly love and respect him for who he is.

We all know about a mother's undying love and affection. But when the love and affection is mixed with worry and reminders of how to improve, I think a child can sense it. The better, truer love includes acceptance and respect for the whole person.

And that includes his limitations.

What's a mother to do?

My son's headaches were back again this week.

And now, on top of worrying about his health, worrying about how much it hurts, concern for how much school he's missed and what his grades look like, being persistent with doctors, insurance companies, and school administrators - on top of all that - I have to be worried about showing too much worry.

Several times this week, it was indicated to me, that the anxiety I'm feeling might actually negatively affect my son. That if he senses my anxiety, it might add to his own and this could be one of the triggers for the migraine.

So now I've got that to worry about.

All I gotta do, really, is just stop being me. Stop feeling nervous and worried and anxious and project pure peaceful serenity to my family. Maybe I could change the color of my eyes, too, while I'm at it.

Sheesh.

p.s. The picture was done by my son. The little caption says: "Hi. I'm Jack's Brain."

BARACK OBAMA ELECTED THE 44TH PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!

Looks like Americans have chosen hope over fear. I couldn't be more grateful and satisfied. I have been waiting 8 years for this night.

This is an historic night for so many reasons.

Please read Arianna Huffington's words, which are so well constructed.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/arianna-huffington/obama-wins-why-all-americ_b_141159.html

Congratulations, Barack.

Congratulations America.

Give me a break

I don't want to give another direction. Or hold another hand. Or break up another fight. Or teach another thing. Or take candy away from anyone. Or read to anyone. I'm tired of listening to each child's dreams from last night or last week, or "one time, when I was really little." And I don't feel like looking at another picture, or lego guy, or bionicle. I'm sick of hearing "Scooby Doo" and "Sponge Bob" on the TV.

And I don't have anything left inside me to offer as comfort and respite to another person.

I spent the majority of this week taking care of my 12 year old son who lately suffers from unbearable and lengthy migraine headaches. All I can do for him is pump him with Ibuprofen every 4 hours, rub his back gently and then basically leave him alone in the dark in his room. I'm dealing with doctors and school administrators to try to get him some tutoring to help him catch up on all the school he's missed over the past 3 weeks.

Add to that the enormous pressure of Halloween. Not for my youngest. She's easy. And not for the oldest, he was in too much pain to care one way or the other about his costume, (although, I must say, on Monday, before the headache really kicked in, he was fretting quite a bit about how his dracula wig, "looked like anime hair.")

But mostly, Halloween brings stress in the form of what my middle child will wear. This year she had her costume all picked out for the past 2 months. When I say picked out, though, I mean in her head. She wanted to be a "teen witch" and had seen the costume in a catalog. We'd shopped for the wig (hot pink) and witch hat weeks ago. She had the tights and the gloves. What was missing was the clothes. And I was in charge of that. I failed miserably.

This child had to dress up for Halloween four times this week. That meant four opportunities for her to torture me and remind me of my failures. I don't know how I remained so calm. But I did. And for the most part, and compared to how things have been in the past, so did she. As you can see she was adorable.

Last night was the 2-hours long trick or treat jaunt that is kid heaven, and that is the bane of my life. I HATE trick-or-treating. I hate the idea of it. (Begging door-to-door for treats! We should be asking for votes for Obama if we're going to beg). I hate feeling envious of everyone's beautiful front porches. And I hate walking around behind a bunch of kids, calling, "remember to say Thank You!" every 5 minutes. And I HATE the candy afterwards. It makes the kids greedy and hyper and sneaky. And this is why today was the worst.

Add to that the fact that my husband has to work on Saturdays again. Things are tight. It seems he needs to work more to get the same amount of money. But I need my Saturdays, man. I need them. I need to get out and get away from the kids and be with my peeps or myself or my yoga teacher. I need to get away, man. And when I don't, I just feel like I'm going to scream.

So here I am hiding out in my bedroom. Today I dealt with birthday parties, homework, housecleaning (as a family) and I made dinner. I sat peacefully through dinner. But after about 20 minutes, when all the kids were swapping dream stories with their dad. And the volume was getting louder and louder, I realized I had to GET OUT. And I did. And I feel much much better already.

I know how important it is to do things for myself. I know this. I just don't seem to have the time any more. There is just so much to do. Three kids. School activities. Schoolwork. Parent organizations and committees. After school activities. Housework, shopping, cooking, household finances, trying to make ends meet! All of these things have to get done EVERY day. Add to that a sick child who has to stay home from school, and I'm over my limit. I've just gotta get a couple of hours of "me time" every day.

Or I'm sure I will explode.

My grandmother's pizza

One of my favorite local websites, NorthforkParents.com, is hosting a contest. In exchange for a "food memory", you get a chance to win 4 tickets to Baystreet Theater Kidstreet Production. A food memory simply retells some of your best and worst food experiences.

I thought I might share mine here. And if my story conjures up memories of your own, and you're a North Fork local, please hop over to NorthForkParents, and join the fun!

*****

My grandmother, "Nana Fanelli," was a wonderful cook. As a kid, my hands down favorite was her pizza. Nana's crust was home made and fresh and thick and bready. She used to slice the mozzarella, not grate it. And her sauce was made from the tomatoes she grew in her College Point, Queens garden. Add to that fresh basil, oregano, grated Parmesan and the best olive oil she could afford.

The pizza would be made well ahead of time, and would be sitting, still in the pizza pan, when we arrived at her house for a visit. She would always be waiting to feed us, and we were always too late for her liking. The moment we all piled into the tiny kitchen, Nana would slice the pizza up, with a pair of scissors, so she didn't "make marks in the pan." Even as a child I found this ironic, since her pans were as scratched and cut and worn-out as her own hands! But the picture of her thick, rough hands, using the scissor to snip a piece of the pizza for me to sample, is etched in my memory.

My mother cajoled the "recipe" from her while Nana was in her eighties and mom made it for us after Nana became to tired to do it herself. (Mom uses scissors too!) In recent years, I have memorized the recipe myself and I make it regularly for my kids. My youngest tells me, "The only pizza I like, mommy, is yours!"

I can feel Nana Fanelli smiling from above.

My new addiction

I've had some trying times these last weeks.

I'm tired, worn out, not sure how to go on. I knew I needed something to get me going again. I went to yoga. It was nice, and hard work, but that wasn't it. I went to a Jazzercise class. It was even harder. Still not enough.

I've been eating everything I can find. I've talked with friends. Went for walks. Listened to my iPod. Nothing was really helping.

I thought it might be time to write, but I am too damn tired to concentrate. Sigh... maybe I need to get in touch with my therapist again...

But no. Tonight I found my salvation. I found out you can watch full episodes of The Daily Show online- just one day after they air!

I know I'm VERY slow on the uptake. I know it's been around for years. But I don't have cable. I have never watched a show - snippets on YouTube here and there. But never a full episode.

Jon Stewart, where have you been all my life?

http://www.thedailyshow.com/full-episodes/index.jhtml?episodeId=188632