Half of 70

It is an age/number that confounded my little mind at the tender age of seven. To be thirty-five. (I'm typing it out rather than writing it numerically as it seems less harsh that way.)

I could not even fathom what or who I would be at thirty-five. It was just too damn far away and time back then moved like molasses.

I used to work with a couple of women in their forties who claimed they loved being older. They didn't put up with as much crap, life was easier to navigate due to experience, I was reassured I was heading towards greatness and told to embrace my impending birthdays. With gusto.

I do feel I have come a long way with who I am. I had some detours in my twenties, and as painful as they were, those moments are behind me. I have found strength in saying no. I have discovered the joy and beauty of creating a new family. Those detours in my twenties, if faced with them today, would not get a second glance. I am not a different person - I was a different person when being detoured - I am myself, a stronger version of myself in my youth. Except where I was uncertain, or too afraid, now I am not.

It is a good place to be.

However, I have noticed some aspects, like generational differences, I never thought would bother me.  I was convinced I could remain up to date with most trends and would never utter phrases like, "These kids today," and yet, I do. I find a deep divide between my Gen-X culture and that of the Millennials. The technology they have grown up with was introduced to my generation much later in life. We knew of peace and quiet. We knew of phone calls on landlines and missing your favorite TV show if you couldn't get your VCR to work. I made mix tapes, and then CDs.

While I've welcomed most technology, I try to keep a balance. When I go out, you know, into the world? Like a restaurant, or movie theater, my cell phone is in my purse and that's where it stays. At the doctor's office, I either read a book I've brought or flip through a magazine. And even though I own an e-reader, I still own books, because, well, there are times when I feel like a nut, and times I don't.

My husband constantly teases me for using my iPod. But wait, I'm talking one of the first iPods, not a touch screen, it has the little wheel that you have to circle around to get through your music collection. I bought it in 2007, it was top of the line at the time, lots of capacity for my large music collection AND it played movies. Now, it's viewed as obsolete.

I worry less now about any kind of social life, and more about society. What kind of world are we living in? How can we make sure the generations that follow us will be ok? As a PR/Marketing professional I really have to be up to date on the news and world events, but find I can't watch the stories of loss, destruction and conflict over and over and over again. I worry about my children. All. The. Time. I want their lives to be full, happy - I want them to be their best selves.

As for me, I want to check some items off my list. I want to be a published author. I want to run another Boilermaker. I want to see Alaska, Hawaii, Northern California and the lush Northwest. I want to be here for my kids to get them on and off the school bus. I want summers in the pool, falls full of leaves and apple cider, winters full of... ok, mostly I want winters to be over with, and springs full of flowers and that unbeatable earthy smell that I can't stop breathing in.

Basically, I just want to keep having birthdays, and endlessly celebrating life in between.

Parental Superiority

I want to clear something up. I am not on here to say that I'm the world's greatest mother or that I am some sort of parenting expert. I am simply trying to remember each passing second of my boys' cuteness and thought that blogging would be a great keepsake one day. You know, when I'm old and not needed.

Blogging about parenting does not make me superior, and I'm in no way trying to put down anyone else's parenting methods. I created this blog because I made a decision to be a stay-at-home parent, and I'm not condemning anyone else for being a go-to-work parent. I am not better, or worse, just different. We all are.

I aspire to have the kind of blog that makes other parents laugh, to maybe inspire a parent who is tired and overwhelmed that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and lastly, for me to have an outlet for my writing. 

I like humorous blog posts about raising boys, (And we all have different ideas about humor, am I right? Just sit my husband and me in front of a Seth Rogan/James Franco movie. He laughs. I do not.) and if I find a blog post about parenting that isn't my cup of tea, I keep surfing. Want to be a peaceful parent? Ok! A fan of structure? Cool! Work 80 hours a week? Zero? Whatever makes you happy. 

I understand that somehow we have developed into a society that has myriad parenting styles, as demonstrated by the Similac commercial, but here's what I don't get:

The Knee-Jerk Let's-Be-Offended Reaction

I don't get why there is so much opinionated backlash to every confounded idea. I thought the Similac ad went on a little too long, but other than that, it was hyperbole. The stereotypical parental types were exaggerated on purpose, which is why I was scratching my head over Mayim Bialik's blog post. Of course the nursing babies were covered up, because, last I checked, Janet Jackson has been the only female who has gotten away with exposing her breasts during the Super Bowl. And that? Was very much frowned on. The nursing babies were covered up because I guess there are still some standards on television, and to make sure the audience understood there were nursing babies under there. It's the Super Bowl, not Jeopardy, implied characterizations must be super obvious for this crowd.

The Negative Comments

There are a lot of negative comments on parenting blogs, which I also don't understand. If you don't like it, don't read it. 

Ripping a parent/blogger apart for expressing an idea would be like me going to a restaurant and getting offended by the dessert tray. Sure, I love cannolis, but how dare you present me with peanut butter pie! I hate peanut butter pie. What if I was allergic to peanuts? Do you know the chemicals used on peanut... trees? Oh, whatever, you get my drift. Rather than bashing the peanut butter pie or the person who presents it, I would simply say no thank you and move on. But first: leave the cannoli.

This Mama Knows Best, No This Mama Knows Best!
There used to be three basic kinds of parenting styles, now it seems there are about 300. For those of us who are simply trying to put ourselves out there, who have a little self doubt a few times a day, and who ultimately want the best for themselves and their children, we need to be cut a little slack. It's become a judgmental world where individuals can safely hide behind their computer screens or smartphones while typing in some pretty hurtful remarks. If you're mature enough to read someone else's opinion, even though you disagree, without commenting what a stupid expletive the person is, then great. Pat yourself on the back.

If you can't? Maybe it's better to just leave some things unsaid. After all, I didn't rip Mayim apart for her blog or leave a scathing review. We can agree to disagree with out being so rude, mean or condescending. Can't we?

The Routine Thing

They (whoever they is) say children thrive on structure and routine. Well, guess what? So do adults. At least this adult does.

I first thought my time home was temporary, since it seemed like I had a job offer looming. So my first few weeks at home were spent relaxing and just hanging out with my children. It was a welcome change.

When it became apparent the job I thought I'd landed was not going to be offered, I realized I needed to get my act together, for my sake as well as my children's. My four-year-old did not make it into the free pre-k program, and we couldn't afford to send him anywhere, so I started to do pre-school activities with them 2-3 days per week.

I had mandated job searching and appointments required by unemployment, so I was on the computer between 9 a.m. and 5 p.m. I had also lined up some side work prior to unemployment, so I was still on a 9 to 5 shift per se - but I was able to do it all from home.

We had just moved into our house a few months earlier, so I tackled some overdue projects, my hubby and I did our DIY thing on weekends, and for once, the house was clean, meals were 100 percent home made, life was feeling less overwhelming and much more simple. For me, simple is good.

Still, I struggled to get out of bed most days. I was letting the boys stay up well after 9 p.m., and they were sleeping until 9 a.m. I was looking forward to the holidays, but the holidays weren't as cheery as I wanted them to be, as much as I tried. (No, not depression. Pain. Severe back pain. I threw my back out the worst I ever have a few weeks before Thanksgiving and was sitting with a heating pad pretty much all day, every day. It. Was. Awful.)

So, with the new year came new resolve, and I decided to make a more structured schedule. For everyone. I started setting my alarm for 6 a.m. (ok, it's really set for 6:15 and sometimes I hit snooze, so sue me) and getting into motion before the sun was up.

Exercise
Ugh. Hate it! I love to run, but several years ago I busted my knee and now running is a challenge. Plus, when it's 8 degrees outside, the only running I do is from my front door to the mailbox. Luckily, our previous home owners bestowed upon us and old elliptical machine. It's a total piece of crap and I feel like I'm running in mud, but it works. I do a simple 5-6 minutes on the elliptical from hell, I do 100 crunches and some awesome yoga stretches (my favorite part) three days a week - Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

I was never a fan of going to the gym and only did so when I trained to run a 15K road race in 2007, and after because I had the membership for the rest of the year. I think the reason I always hated the idea of working out like that is because my competitive nature kicks in and I do too much. I always figured if I made all that effort to go to the gym, I might as well get my money's worth. Well, having a cranky elliptical machine in your house and creating my own, scaled down workout routine is the best thing I have ever done. Working out early gives me more energy, I'm showered and dressed before 7:30 a.m., I feel accomplished and the stretching alone has done wonders for my back.

Mornings
I do get out of bed most days well before 7 a.m. and on the mornings I don't exercise, well, that cup of coffee just tastes extra yummy. I do work at home now, and I love to write creatively (cantcha tell?) so I use the mornings that I don't exercise to do some writing. I am proud to report I currently have four novels that are a third of the way written and about a thousand rejection emails. Yay me!

School
I always said I love teaching, but would never want to teach kids. I thought about going back to get my master's degree to teach high school or middle school English, but always said I would never, ever, ever teach pre-schoolers. I have to say, I'm not only super proud of my boys and all they have learned these past few months, I'm proud of myself. We start "school" around 9 a.m., and I sit them down with an activity. We do the same kinds of worksheets every week, so now they are pretty familiar with what they have to do. I have no doubt my four-year-old will kick kindergarten's butt next year.

Meals
One of my favorite times of the day. Ok, any meal time is a favorite time for me, just ask any of my former coworkers. My last job was too structured, with no variation or freedom during the day, and I was always starving when noon came. So now, we all eat lunch between 11 and noon. Dinner is getting prepared at 5 p.m. and since I'm usually making child-friendly food (chicken tenders, spaghetti, mac and cheese) we are usually done eating by 5:30 p.m.

Night
Soon after dinner I give the kids their bath, and I do give them one every night. If not, I find they argue more about taking one. Then they are allowed to play until about 8 p.m. when I start warning them it's close to bed time. We read two of their favorite books and then it's lights out around 8:30 and they're sleeping by 9 a.m.

Cleaning House
I already blogged about my obsessive-compulsive clean routine, but since I work from home, believe it or not, I do most of it after 5 p.m. just like any other working mom. Sure, on Mondays I can take a few minutes to throw the laundry in and leave it, but all those clean clothes are waiting for me in the evening.

Being a stay-at-home, work-from-home parent is not for everyone. For me, I've never been happier. And now that I have a steady routine, I feel more focused and I think my kids do as well. They have a routine that keeps them engaged, active and on pace for learning and growing. And I have a routine that I can be proud of too.

Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged Yourself

Ah, the wisdom of Metallica. (What? Did someone else say that first or something?)

I read an article while in the dentist's office today about how rude our society has become, and it made me think. Yes, technology is a big-ticket item that contributes to rude behavior, but also at the the root of most rude behavior, is judgment.

Just stand in a busy checkout line, say, at a grocery store at 6 p.m. Look around for that combination - yep, that's it. Cranky child, irritated parent. And... commence judging.

I was in line at a department store before the holidays and it was the afternoon. Before noon, my kids are golden children. They are well behaved and they listen, which is why, like today, I schedule appointments early in the morning. They are just at their best in the morning. This particular day in question, I had the nerve to shop in the afternoon.

But, I had a plan.

I thought I was so smart, avoiding the toy section. Little did I know, hiding out in the middle of boys' clothing was a huge display of toys. Toys! In the middle of clothes racks! How dare they! And not just any toys, dinosaur toys. Expensive dinosaur toys that I was not going to buy. My kids were goners.

"Dinosaurs, Mama! Dinosaurs! Look! I want the orange T-Rex!"

I used the same line I'd been using for the past six weeks whenever they saw a toy they liked. "Well, we'll have to tell Santa then. Let's go!"

My four-year-old bought it, hook, line and sinker. My three-year-old? Yeah. Not so much.

Full. Metal. Tantrum.

After a few unsuccessful attempts at asking him to put it on our list for Santa, I picked up my screaming child and proceeded to the checkout, where I was about the 45th person in line. Great. But I wasn't giving in to the tantrum. So I let him carry on and stayed in line. I tried to just stare straight ahead, but dammit, eye contact was made.

A woman in her 50s made that tsk-tsk sound at me and said, "Maybe he's over heated..." in that oh-so-judgmental voice, like nails on a chalkboard. 

Normally I just grit my teeth and keep quiet, but seeing as how I was 45th, oh, now 44th, in line and quite grumpy, I snapped.

"Nope. That's not it at all. He's not hot. He's three. And he's having a tantrum."

I heard a few women behind me chuckle in approval and the tsk-tsk woman mumbled to herself about how she thought he might be overheated and turned away in shock that I would reject her theory.

Maybe she thought she was being helpful? However I, and the women snickering behind me, all knew that in fact, she was being judgmental. Plain and simple. And I'm tired of hearing lines like these when our children are not acting perfect in public.

I saw a post on Facebook about some woman, who had a cranky child in tow and was told by another woman in a grocery checkout line that she was doing a good job, and that sentiment made her day. Just like those fake news stories that people spread around thinking this ridiculous thing actually happened, I'm gonna call it. Urban. Mommy. Legend. Things like that never really happen.

Instead, our kids act out and strangers give us that 'can't-control-your-kid?' look of disgust.

Or, are we imagining that look?

"You can never know for sure what motivates other people. But you can learn what you are accepting or judging in yourself." - Jarl Forsman

Okay, maybe I was a little hard on that woman that day. Maybe I should have just gritted my teeth, but after hearing some version of her statement for years, I wanted to set the record straight and remove the blame. I'm not a bad parent, and I did not mummify my child, therefore causing him to go bonkers. 

And you do feel judged.

But, was that her judging me? Or me judging me?

Psychologists will tell us that we judge other based on areas we feel we are lacking, or failing. Brene Brown says, "We judge in areas where we feel insecure, and we pick people who are doing worse than we are."

Perhaps I was hyper sensitive to this woman's statement that day because I thought I had outsmarted the tantrum, but in fact, I had failed. Or, maybe I was just telling the truth because I was tired of being judged, and I was doing it for all the parents out there who have ever had a tired, cranky child throw a fit in a public place. 

In fact, next time, if you see a parent struggling with a not-so-cooperative child, maybe you can offer a kind word, and leave your judgments at the counter.

The Not-So-Shocking Truth

A few years ago, when I used to spend much of my time Googling the topic of step parenting, I found an article on stepmomsos.com titled The Shocking Truth About How to Change Others (unfortunately, the web site and article are no longer on the web).  

It was a sentiment I often carried with me. If I could just get this person to see my side of the story... so, with bated breath I clicked. But of course, the article simply reaffirmed something I already knew, a principle rooted deep in my metaphysical beliefs -- in order to change someone else, the only fundamental change you can make is within yourself. The article itself told of a doctor who sent love to patients in a psychiatric ward and who saw a vast improvement in the morale of the staff and patients. 

The overall message is simple: We are all participants in the world's stage -- we all belong to the universe.  So, to create healing in the universe, we must first create it in ourselves. 

Seems so simple right? Do unto others? But, it's not quite that simple. Unfortunately, a lot of other people live their lives rooted in fear, anger, and sadness. 

After all, can you really erase someone else's hatred? Of course not, because that person chooses to hate, to fear, or to love. You cannot make those choices for him or her.

I knew that you could not change another person, yet I also thought that positive would beget positive, and that's where my logic was flawed. No matter how much positivity I projected towards another person, it would still not change that person because I have no control over that. I just have to love myself and heal that space within me that has felt bruised or broken. 

In The Mastery of Love, Don Miguel Ruiz puts it simply.

"To master a relationship is all about you. The first step is to become aware, to know that everyone dreams his own dream. Once you know this, you can be responsible for your half of the relationship, which is you."

It's true. In times of conflict I act as the rescuer, the fixer, the resolver. The logical person in me says I can fix the situation. 

The not-so-shocking truth is, I can't.

I can only be aware that no one else can make me happy, and my happiness is not dependent upon someone else. It's not about what they do or don't do. I have no control over that. As Ruiz states, 

"If we respect the other half, there is always going to be peace in that relationship. There is no war."

This is a constant challenge, isn't it? To respect the other halves of our lives, to accept not judge, to love not fear, to be happy and not full of hate or mistrust. It's a learning process, but it's one based on logic, so that makes it much easier to wrap my head around. To get love, we must give love.

Period.

The Clean Routine

As someone who prefers order over chaos, I've found it to be so helpful to have a routine and schedule not only for my children, but also for myself.

This is something I put into practice long before I became a stay-at-home/work-from-home mom. I found that if I tackled household chores in sections, I didn't despise having to clean as much, and I had more time for fun on the weekends. Besides, the weekends for me always seem to have more traffic in and out of the house, creating more messes, so cleaning on the weekends just feels counterproductive. At least that's what I tell myself.

Here's how I break up the household chores, and again, this doesn't differ too much from when I worked outside of the home:

Mondays - Ah. Mondays. We all love them, right? Just like the 100 or so emails that await you at work, Mondays seem ripe for chores. At work, I would usually try to clear out the worst of what faced me on Mondays so the rest of the week wasn't so scary.  At home, I do the same.

• Scrub the kitchen - It's gross from all of the extra cooking I did over the weekend, so this is a must. I scour the stove top, de-crumb the toaster oven, and clean the stainless steel sinks with a combination of Kosher salt, baking soda and lemon juice. It's a chemical-free way to make them clean and shiny, and my kids get a kick out of the fizzy action these three ingredients make together as a cleaning agent.
• Clothes laundry - I have separate hampers for towels and clothes, so Monday is just for clothes laundry. With the extra clothes from the weekend (my husband likes to don multiple outfits throughout the course of each day) and my toddlers, the mountain of clothes laundry is like Kilimanjaro. Best to get this out of the way early on.
  
  
  
  
• Dust - I hate dusting. Seriously. It's just... it never... ugh! It just never stays un-dusty long enough! But I do either Swiffer dust or use a Pledge-type cleaner, and try to remember to do this before I do the floors. Sometimes? I forget to dust. Whoops!

“...I have to go home and get a few things done. If I don’t get out the Pledge soon, the dust bunnies are going to be leaving tracks on my furniture...” ― Carla Foft, Addressing Spirits

• Clean the floors - This is a task I used to do on Wednesdays, but inevitably, my children will spill something and I figure, what the heck? And, again, all the extra traffic from the weekend makes sweeping, vacuuming, Swiffering and steam mopping a high priority. (Yes, I do all four, and no, I have not sought help for my cleaning addiction.) I usually leave out the bathroom floors, because they have their own special day.

Tuesdays

• Garbage Day! Oh what fun - sometimes I put it out the night before, but we live on top of a hill so most days I wait until morning. Then it's a game of, when will the garbage people actually come? Oh, sometimes it's 9 a.m. on the dot, but most days it's late afternoon. One day, it was 9 p.m. Such fun, this game we play.
• Laundry: Towels, Bath Rugs & Sheets - I keep a hamper in our bathroom, which makes it super easy to do a load of towels only. I also, about every other week or so, do the bedsheets as well. 
• Bathrooms - Since the towels and bath rugs are out of the way, I give the bathroom a once over and clean the floors. Easy peasy. 

Wednesdays - Nada. Just the usual straightening and tidying up.

Thursdays - I usually have enough of the boys clothes laundry to justify doing a load, so I play that by ear. I also may whip out the vacuum cleaner and give the area rug a quick sweep.

Fridays/Saturdays/Sundays - Again, just the normal everyday straightening and tidying up. 

So what is the everyday stuff? Well, I usually sweep underneath and around the dining room table daily since my children seem to think that getting their food to reach their mouths is not the highest priority when it comes to eating. I also take the time to reset the house nightly - in other words, all the toys they dragged out during the day? They get put away. Every. Day. I feel this is important and it was something that kept me sane when I worked outside the home, so I didn't feel so overwhelmed in the morning when I left, like the house was getting swallowed up by toys or something.

Having this cleaning routine and schedule makes my life so much easier. Obviously, when I worked outside the home I didn't tackle so many chores on Monday, but I did take these tasks and divide them up Monday through Thursday, again leaving the weekends for other activities. 

Next time I'll talk about the daily routine I have for myself, and my boys. 

Family Role Playing

When I was young and single, I didn't always have a romantic vision of my future in mind. What I didn't plan on was falling in love with a man who had been married and had a child.  Being a parental figure, and later an official stepparent, to someone else's child has been a very rocky, windy road.

Lately, I've sought help to deal with my feelings, my resentment, my hurt, my intentions and my wishes. During a recent life coaching session, as I went over some of the dynamics, my coach asked how my stepson was with his mom, and how he was with us. I explained the dual personalities that have existed from the very beginning. For instance, in the early years I remember his mother dealing with temper tantrums of gigantic proportions, while we rarely had any discipline issues. It was a juxtaposition I was so used to, it took someone who was a stranger to my situation to make me realize something else entirely when she said, "How very difficult and tiring that must be for him."

I remember conforming, at times, to peer pressure in school. Doing so would make me act differently, or ditch my friends for another set. I did this in sixth grade, when I, for a fleeting moment, thought if I changed myself to act like the popular girls, then maybe they would accept me. I even might have (gasp!) tight-rolled my jeans in order to look the part. This phase was short-lived, a total failure, and after acting like a brat and a gossip and alienating all of my true friends, I felt pretty crappy. It took a while for my friends to accept me back in to the fold, and I didn't blame them one bit. I'd been pretty horrible.

But that was school - peer pressure.  An under-confident, awkward, flailing eleven-year-old trying to find a place where none seemed to exist in that arena. At home, I was always, well, me. How terrible it must be for someone to have to have two different personas, one for each home.

So that begs the question: How can I help my stepson just be himself?

My life coach and I talk about roles in the family. Perhaps he has a different job description or role in his mother's home than he has with us. I'm not here (anymore) to judge those differences, but rather, want to understand this better so that he doesn't feel like he has to turn himself into another person, another version of himself, simply because he enters a different household.

I used to think that my husband and I were fine on our own, creating our own dynamic, because it was our household. The logical me felt that as long as our home was a safe and healthy environment, and it was, we didn't need anyone else interfering or offering opinions. Now, and especially at times when there is discord, I realize how important it is to have an open and honest dialogue. Especially now that I fear my stepson is feeling torn between his houses.

Unfortunately, we cannot control the situation we are dealt. It's taken me a few wrong turns to figure out that I must not only let go, but also accept, what I can't control and move on to work on the things I can control.

I can control my environment.

I can set boundaries.

I can create a space where my stepson will feel love.

I can encourage my stepson to be open, honest and be his own best person.

I can be support for my husband, in whatever form he needs, not whatever form I think he should have.

It's no secret that blended families are complex. This is by far the biggest challenge I have ever faced and continue to face. My goal, my vow, is to keep creating a safe space for everyone involved, no matter what is thrown at me.