The Void

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Recently I read an essay by Toni Hammer about the void that happens when you’re done having children. About halfway through the piece, I could feel a knot in my throat, tears rising behind my eyes. Why? Because I’ve been living in this void, unwilling, possibly unable, to admit it. Reading Ms. Hammer’s words brought me to my knees in recognition.

I grew up an only child until age 12, when my sister was born. The sizable gap between us ensured that we both experienced life more or less as only children with the undivided attention and devotion of our parents. I thought that was fine and that if I ever had a child, I only wanted one. Read more

The View From Here: On Being a Jewish Mother

Today’s post is up at Jennifer Hall’s blog, Dancing in the Rain.  Jennifer runs a guest post series called “The View From Here.”

I am humbled and honored that Jennifer chose to include my post, On Being a Jewish Mother as this week’s feature.

Please stop on by and take a read!

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The People’s River and the Gift of Time (U.B.C. – Day 23)

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The Charles River snakes through the southern part of my town, approximately three-quarters of a mile from my front door. On the western side of the bridge is a small waterfall, the size of which belies the fury of the water tumbling over. One the eastern side is a calm in which an observer can lose themselves watching the pattern of the current. Read more

Monday Morning Eternal (U.B.C. – Day 7)

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No matter where I am in my life, Monday mornings bring much baggage. When I was in high school, Monday mornings were difficult because I had to go back to rising early and schlepping off to school. I actually did walk about a mile each way to school, so in the cold of New England winters, it was a brutal walk. Of course, I didn’t help matters by wearing my little white Keds and flats with bare feet as I slogged through the slush and ice, but I can be forgiven for that; I was a teenager. Read more

Ultimate Blog Party 2014 (U.B.C. – Day 5)

Happy day five of the Ultimate Blog Challenge! Happy Saturday! Happy April 5th! Happy whatever it is you might be celebrating today!

You can sense a theme here. I’m having a happy day. A party day. I woke up refreshed and rested after a full eight hours of sleep. Yes, you read that correctly. I – mother of a 6 year-old boy, a/k/a perpetual motion machine – got eight hours of sleep last night. I feel like a million bucks, and I woke up happy and energetic for the first time in I can’t remember how long. I was up at 7am making pancakes, for freaks’ sake. It feels as if I could conquer the world today. I plan to do just that. Read more

Holder of My Heart (U.B.C. Day 3)

Today has been one of those days.  I knew from early on that I would be busy, but I nonetheless hoped I would be able to find time to write a post.  Alas, it never happened.  Knowing that, I decided to experiment with photography and post a photo I took today of the little man who holds my heart (as opposed to the big man who holds my heart).

 

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Muffin Tops (U.B.C. – Day 2)

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My son has recently discovered coffee cake and coffee cake muffins. This may not seem important or exciting enough to warrant an entire blog post, but trust me when I say that prior to his discovery, my child ate nothing. His diet for the past couple of years has consisted entirely of bagels with peanut butter, french fries, pizza, plain pasta with Romano cheese, and any type of candy he could grab. Our pediatrician talked me down off the ledge on multiple occasions, reassuring me that it was a phase and it would pass. Read more

Yelling Not Allowed

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One of the last times I yelled at my son was Sunday, November 10, 2013. That was the day I decided I never wanted to do it again because I never again wanted to see hurt and confusion, even fear, in his eyes when he looked at me. Although I am certain I will yell again at some point, I nevertheless keep the date posted on my refrigerator. Even when I have slipped, I see that date written on my refrigerator white board and catch myself faster. I take a breath, and then I stop. Read more

Politics

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My parents were young when I was born. From my adult and parental perspective, far too young to have become parents, but they made it work. In some ways, we all grew up together, discovering ourselves and learning about the world.  However, in all the ways that counted they were most decidedly not friends or compatriots, but PARENTS. They were strict and set exceedingly high expectations for me, expectations that I internalized and pushed myself to exceed. Read more

Hands Tied

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On Monday, I had the most disquieting experience of not being able to get to my child.

A little more than an hour before I was to pick up The Boy at school, I received one of those insanely frightening emergency line calls from his school. You know the ones; they are prerecorded and a computer calls all the parents and emergency contact numbers at once so all the mommies and daddies can panic at the same time. Read more