Do Me a Favor: If You See Me at the Playground, Treat Me Like a Man

Last night the hubs and I cashed in a date night and went to the MJCCA book festival 'parenting edition' with Dan Zevin and two of the four Sh*tty Moms. It was a fun evening, commiserating about the challenges of parenting young children in funny and irreverent ways. With two children in a Jewish preschool, I was in stitches at Dan's joke about how many Jewish holidays keep the kiddos home [Tu B'Shevat, Erev Tu B'Shevat, Tu B'Shevat post-game and analysis, etc.]

Today I'm home with Fozzie Bear, who has an ear infection that is barely slowing him down, but still keeping him out of school. So instead of working on my NaNoWriMo project, I've been chasing a waddling little powder keg of peanut butter, ibuprofen and antibiotics, trying to keep him from hurling himself off the back of the couch.

It has me thinking in a new way about parenting and its many challenges. One issue that was part of the discussion at last night's reading was about the difficulty for modern parents (moms in particular) to accept less-than-perfection. Even though raising children has not gotten easier in recent decades -- in fact, there are many ways one could argue it's become more complex, if not exactly harder -- we seem to be holding ourselves to ridiculously higher standards than previous generations.

On top of the fact that many moms work outside the home, or work at home to bring in income, we also still expect ourselves to: be the primary caregivers, keep immaculate houses (ahem), keep up with our families' expansive social calendars, volunteer, stay in shape, cruise the birthday party circuit, stay involved with our kids' schools, head up the PTA, cook dinner, write a blog, work the consignment sales, take the kids to the doctor and dentist, buy the groceries, update Facebook, limit screen time, seduce your husband, get the kids to eat their veggies.... it goes on. And if that's not enough of a challenge for you, Pinterest has a thousand ways you can occupy any spare minutes by challenging you to create the perfect house, the perfect kids' crafts, the perfect party appetizers.  Did we mention you have to try to look good doing it?

Anyone with an ounce of common sense can look at that list and tell you it's not realistic; but somehow that doesn't stop us from beating the crap out of ourselves on a daily basis when we don't hit all the points satisfactorily. We are constantly criticizing ourselves, and what's worse, we judge other women by the same absurd yardstick.

Dan, who happens to be his family's primary caretaker as well as a hilarious and genuine humor writer, commented last night that "all I have to do is show up somewhere" with the kids and the other moms accept and applaud him. He noted that it doesn't matter if he has shaved in the last two weeks or if he packs the perfect snacks. (One of the Sh*tty Moms complained about having to pack the perfect snack for the soccer team and Dan just laughed).

To my shame, I realized that it's true -- I don't look at Dads on the playground with the same critical eye with which I view other women (or I imagine they turn on me). I also don't hold hubs to the same high standards I hold myself when each of us is caring for the kids. Why? I work hard, I love my kids with all my heart. Together, we keep a roof over their heads and try to teach them to be good people (and to get something green in them once a day). Why isn't that enough?

So what I'm saying is, we women need to be harder on Dads. They're getting off easy.

Just kidding! I think in this case we need to follow the lead of the men in our lives and focus a little more on what's essential (happy, healthy kids), and a little less on what makes us look or feel like the perfect mom. So you're late to carpool and still wearing the tracksuit you threw on for yoga hours ago and your floor is carpeted in crushed goldfish and cheerios -- so what? Is anyone going to die as a result? No! Will the world end if I go to the grocery store without makeup, and stains (yogurt, snot, who knows?) on my jacket? No!  

I say, embrace the chaos. Ignore the messy van (your own or someone else's), and take time for yourself even when the to-do list is still a mile long. If you're a perfectionist mom, channel your inner laid-back dad. Reach out to that other mom on the playground or at the grocery store with an accepting smile instead of a judgmental glare. Let's work together and give each other, and ourselves, a much-needed break. Our kids and our sanity will thank us.

A Fantastic Fall Day

Nothing deep to report today, just relaxing at the end of a lovely fall day. The weather was perfect today, and we drove to North Georgia to see the beautiful leaves and take MLM to a pumpkin patch. A stop at Greenwood's in Roswell for some home-cooking out on the porch, and a nap on the couch during football, and our day was pretty much perfect.

Today was one of those days that I always missed when I didn't live in Georgia, cool and crisp with spectacular colors everywhere, blowing in the breeze. I loved so much about Austin, and still miss it often; but there's no noticeable change of seasons in the mild Central Texas weather -- it pretty much goes overnight from 120 degrees and dry to the three weeks of chilly rain known as 'winter.' The trees native to the Austin area don't really change colors as they do here, and I always longed for these autumn days around this time of year.

A nice drive in a beautiful place always brings back memories of the other places I've been (there have been many -- I'm very fortunate); and gets me thinking about the list of future destinations I keep filed away in the back of my mental filing cabinet. It's sort of like eating a delicious meal and reminiscing about other great meals at the same time. What? No? Just me? Anyway....

A few months ago, DH and I decided that one of our joint goals for our family is to try and visit all 58 National Parks and 100 National Monuments in the U.S. I'm pretty excited about the idea of exploring as a family some of the places we've been separately in the past; and going to new places, too. We're also toying with plans for some international travel; but since that will require lots more money and planning (especially for MLM), it's not really in list form. But it's fun to dream.

Between the beautiful leaves, the winding road, and a sweet baby asleep in the backseat (or giggling for no reason, when awake), today's little trip went a long way to lessening all the stress of moving and lightening the weight of my seemingly endless to-do list. At least for a while....

And then she crawled out from under a half-unpacked box...

Whew! Sunday morning and I am enjoying my first pot of coffee brewed in the new house, while my boys are both napping upstairs. If you've been paying attention, you may have noticed that I dropped the ball a bit on my 30 consecutive days of blogging. (If you've been paying attention that closely, I have to wonder if you might have some time on your hands...)

I honestly thought about blogging a couple of times in the past four days, but up until yesterday it was pretty much physically impossible. Between getting out of the old place, into the new place, and getting the condo cleaned and ready for renters; not to mention work for both of us, we have been going nonstop this week.

There have been lots of moments of joy in the last few days... Looking out the window into our amazing new backyard my second morning in the house (because the first morning I was out the door by 6:15 before I could see the backyard). Having the company and support of my mother-in-law, dad and aunt on three separate days while we tried to get everything accomplished. Collapsing on the couch together Thursday night with a bottle of wine when we were too tired to move anymore. Watching MLM go excitedly up and down the new half-flight of stairs over and over. And over. And over....

And of course there have been some challenges, too. Finding some new and interesting plumbing leaks; and realizing that it's going to take a while to replace the vacant-house smell with something more comforting and familiar. Discovering last night that the clothes washer left by the previous owner -- the reason we left our washer and dryer behind for the tenant's use -- doesn't really work when there are actual clothes in it. It passed the home inspection because the inspector, obviously, didn't actually wash anything. (Wherever she is, I'm sending the seller a big cosmic "thank-you" for that one.)

And in non-house news, there's been lots of teeth-gnashing as my beloved Alma Mater seems determined to have a losing football season this year; and the Atlanta Braves are taking the MLB wild-card race down to the final game this afternoon.

But the good news is that post-season baseball, and even a disappointing start to college football, mean fall is here nonetheless. I am so excited to have a yard to enjoy with my little guy as the beautiful, crisp fall days are upon us. It's going to be really fun exploring our new neighborhood and setting up our house as we look toward the cozy days of the end of the year.

We might be a little smelly snuggled up in our unwashed clothes, listening to the drip of the pipes in the basement; but we'll be in our home, together. And that's enough!

A Decade in the Life: Part Three

Yep, Just Like on 'Sex in the City'

When I left Austin, I closed an important and treasured chapter of my life. My experiences there changed me forever; and frankly, I didn’t know what to expect on returning to Atlanta. As it turned out, a whole new era was about to begin.

Looking back, I know I met the man who is the love of my life once before I even moved back to Atlanta. I’d come home for a visit and to do some work for my friend’s company, where he happened to be working. I remember we had a nice conversation about New Orleans and I thought he was really cute, but that was about it.

Once I did move home, however, and we began working in the same place and hanging out with the same group of friends, it didn’t take long for me to figure out that the cute boy in the lab was a really incredible person himself. I could go on for a while about what makes him so special to me (and lots of other people), but that would embarrass him and bore everyone else.

As we began spending more time together, the primary tension in our relationship was that MD-future-H had always envisioned himself marrying someone Jewish. Someone born Jewish, actually. And so he only dated Jewish women, which obviously I was not. So we oscillated for a few months between dating and not dating [I think he broke up with me three times during this period]. And in the meantime, I found myself reading “Judaism for Dummies,” among other things.

I’d been on a path of spiritual searching for years (far longer than this blog covers), and my close-up experience with Catholicism in Austin had piqued my interest in ancient and ritual-focused religion. So as a relationship with a nice boy spurred me to learn more, I found myself drawn to Judaism at the deepest levels of my being. After further education and mutual soul-searching, MD-future-H and I decided that someone willing to consider conversion and someone willing to consider marrying a convert could make a go of a relationship.

From there, we just followed the path that seemed to be appearing at our feet with each step. We took a Derech Torah class as a precursor to my conversion, where we met lots of great people – some of whom were in the same situation we were, and many who have been our friends ever since. Soon I began studying with Rabbi Analia, one of the most wonderful and wise women I’ve known. She and her husband Mario lead the congregation where we’ve found our spiritual home.

We got engaged in February 2006; MDH knew how much I love Jane Austen, so he took me to see “Pride and Prejudice” at the Alliance Theater, and proposed at a quaint little Italian restaurant before the show. His wonderful family accepted me warmly, and they have never treated me any differently than they would a born Jew.

In May, Rabbi Analia decided I was ready. The Bet Din (conversion panel) and my submersion in the Mikvah (ritual bath) were incredible experiences that marked a whole new era in my life as a Jew-by-Choice. I’m honored to be part of the Jewish community. I am still learning, day by day, what it means to be Jewish, and particularly how to help lead a Jewish household. It will be a lifelong journey and I’m cherishing every moment.

In September 2006, our beloved Rabbis Mario and Analia presided over our beautiful garden wedding. When Analia talked about how my mom and Sam’s dad (who had also died suddenly in April 2002) were both with us in spirit, a sudden breeze blew the white tulle walls of our chuppah high in the otherwise calm air. It was chilling and lovely.

The last three years of my decade have been decidedly different from the first. There have been more losses – both grandmothers, my brother’s best friend, my first boss at the Catholic school (who was always really kind to me). But there have also been tremendous joys, achievements, new friendships and the deepening of old ones. I went back to grad school, completed my Master’s in Counseling and am enjoying the challenges of a new career, one that constantly drives me to reflect and question myself.

For me, the impulsive choices and perpetual newness of the early 2000’s have been replaced by a whole new kind of adventure. In June 2009, we expanded our family with the long-sought addition of our beautiful baby boy. He's an amazing little kid with a funny personality that is already beginning to emerge. Difficulty getting pregnant and the experience of undergoing fertility treatments has helped us -- if at all possible -- to treasure him even more.

I no longer characterize myself as a world traveler – though we did take a fantastic trip to Ireland when I got my counseling degree – but being a mother to our six-month-old son takes me to new places every day. And while no marriage is fail-proof, MDH and I work hard to secure ours to something larger than ourselves, so that we’re not left alone during those inevitable hard times.

And Two the cat is still hanging around, letting us know when the kiddo is crying (as though we can't hear him). She's a decade older than when she came into my life, but not too much worse for the wear. Our family has lots of big plans for the coming months and years; but if 2010-2019 is anything like this past decade, we'll mostly just be holding on tight and trying to enjoy the ride.

Under the Pollen, You Look Familiar

Spring is here and, in my hometown of Atlanta, love is -- quite literally -- in the air. The trees and shrubs are doing their best to reproduce despite the recent drought; and as a result the entire metro area is covered in a soft, yellow-green carpet of pollen -- so thick and pervasive it's a little hard to avoid calling it "lustrous."

When I pull my car out of my space in the morning, the powdery pollen flies off it like fresh snow in Colorado. Throats are tickling, sneezes are echoing, and non-native Atlantans are loudly, irritatably, questioning their choice to move to a city that turns into one giant allergen for 4 weeks a year.

But for me it's all about renewal. I'll gladly suffer the sniffles and the semi-permanent yellow tint we all acquire this time of year for the beautiful green that emerges with it -- and those unmistakeable signs that winter is over and the warm days of summer are on the way. I'm particularly joyful this year, because as spring emerges from its shell, I get to look forward to graduation with my Master's in Professional Counseling.

A journey that started for me in Texas 5 years ago is finally drawing to a close -- or at least the first part of the journey is ending. Now I can go forth as a learning professional, rather than a professional student. And perhaps more importantly, I get to focus my constantly wandering attention on the pursuits that interest me most... and be only minimally concerned about meeting external standards.

Now that the final weeks are upon me, I find myself staring out the window more. I am learning to allow my thoughts to wander occasionally and not feel completely guilty about it. I've been shopping online. I've been planning trips. I've been tracking down some of my long-neglected friends and making plans to spend quality time with them --- not just the occasional 'in-passing' time where our minds are mostly focused elsewhere, but real time that involves really listening and really connecting.

It's hard to describe how freeing this has been for me. MDH (My Darling Husband) tells me I'm starting to seem much more like myself -- and less like the exhausted, fragile, overwhelmed mess he's been married to for the last year or more. Okay, he didn't say the second part, but I know he's thinking it!

These days, I find myself with renewed energy that builds on itself, because I'm able to use it not just for the things I have to do (which tend to drain my energy), but also for things I want to do. Two months ago, I often crawled into bed like it was my only sanctuary -- too exhausted and drained to move or think -- and waking up feeling like I'd barely been able to sleep at all.

Now I'm starting to notice that I'm still buzzing with positive energy late into the night, less concerned about grasping for a couple of hours of sleep and more focused on just enjoying whatever I'm doing at the moment. I've heard that when great artists, athletes, and scientists are at their best, they get into a zone in which time, food, sleep, and the outside world become mere abstractions. I am far, far from being an artist or athlete; but at times like this when the world seems bursting with possibilities, perhaps I understand "the zone." At least a little.

I think most of us need more of that particular state of mind in our lives, and we don't always make time for it. It's hard to lose yourself in a project when yourself has to go to the grocery store, finish a paper, respond to twelve e-mails and fold laundry -- all before bed. So we start with the shoulds, dutifully checking off each item as we go; and put the wouldn't it be cool if I coulds last on the list. And guess how often we get to those? Not often. We usually don't see them as productive or necessary to our daily lives.... But I wonder about that.

In order for the various plant species to survive, our leafy and flowery friends literally have to put themselves out there. They give up millions of tiny bits of themselves, most of which land impotently on cars, asphalt, and in the lungs of unsuspecting and allergic pedestrians. Only a tiny fraction of the pollen produced will find its way to bearing fruit and helping to create new life. But the plants go on pollenating, without regret or concern. They're in the zone, doing their thing, obeying their natural drives.

So with spring on the calendar and renewal on the wind, I'm gearing myself up to get totally, esctatically lost. Lost in a good book. Lost in conversation with an old friend. Lost in a writing project about which I'm passionate. In a new country I'm exploring. In music I've never heard before. Lost in the night, missing sleep -- not because I am worried or overwhelmed, but because I have more interesting and fulfilling things to do than merely sleep. I'm going to try to honor the impulses I have had my whole life: to do the creative, the fun, the utterly unproductive. And hopefully what will emerge is some combination of who I've always been and who I've been working so hard to become.

As one of our counseling heroes, Carl Rogers, so eloquently put it: "The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change."

Maybe to create yourself, you have to start by losing yourself.