Motherhood is a mindf#$%. Pretty bold statement, I know, so please allow this mama to share her journey with you. I am 7 months postpartum, and while I pretty much despised being pregnant, there is this sadness that this chapter of my life is now over....
The first time I witnessed my oldest child having a seizure was almost exactly five years after he was diagnosed with juvenile myoclonic epilepsy at the age of 15 years old. I had always felt guilty for not being there when he had a seizure,...
Since I was young, I fantasized about what it would mean to be a mom. Not just any mom, but an amazing mom. This dream was always so important to me and despite any detours my life has taken over the years- being a great mom was always at the top of my bucket list.
Several years ago I was sitting in a psychologist’s office when my personal narrative was unexpectedly uprooted, violently rearranged, and permanently altered as if hit by a tornado. As soon as I heard the words, “What she did was selfless and in fact an act...
Sometimes, things don’t always work out the way you thought they would. I never necessarily envisioned myself having a huge family, but after having my son and experiencing that ridiculous, unique love that seems to be inherent to becoming a mother, I had always imagined I would have another. But after my painful struggle with infertility, I have finally come to terms with the fact that my son will be an only child and essentially, I will be a mom to one, single, extraordinary little boy.
It’s no secret that I have a busy schedule. Just today a friend asked me to have lunch at the last minute and how I wished I could have jumped on that but I apologized and said let’s book a time in advance for next week. So with the Passover holiday approaching, I had to schedule some time in to do some cooking. (Thankfully) I am not hosting a Seder but I do have to prepare my share of dishes.
Growing up, I didn’t always get a lot of positive reinforcement. When I was young, I longed to be acknowledged; to be praised and told that I was great or smart or funny. Despite this lack of affirmation, I still somehow managed to develop confidence and a strong sense of self. I learned to become my own cheerleader and to find validation from within. I’m not exactly sure where this self-assurance came from, but I realized that being strong and fearless were my survival skills.
When I was pregnant with my first child I was terrified. Once I got over the shock and the excitement began to settle in, I knew I wanted to find out the sex of my new baby. As much as I had hopes and dreams of tutus and ribbons (as many women do), I knew inside that I was going to be blessed with a boy. After all signs pointed to a healthy baby, this was of course confirmed. Okay, I thought, so it won’t be pretty in pink. Maybe next time.
In life, there comes a defining moment in our lives when we are hit by “The Parent Bug".
I remember it like yesterday.
Many years ago, a close friend had just had a baby, and I was completely enamoured by the love around her. Her joy, her elation, her sense of completeness and protectiveness at this time of her life.
The other day, I needed my kitchen junk drawer organized. Like all of a sudden, I couldn’t deal with the clutter any more. But looking at the mess was overwhelming and I didn’t even know where to start. So I did the most logical thing...
Many years ago I was told by someone whom I admired and cared about very much told me, “Only the strongest women birth daughters”! From that moment on, I thought about the intense pressure it would be to raise a young lady. I also knew that growing up as a girl in my day wasn’t easy due to so much pressure on females to be pretty, skinny and popular in order to achieve success and be liked. Combine those two items and the birth of my daughter, and WHAMO! I was thrust into a lot of thought as to what lessons I wanted to teach my daughter so she would grow up feeling self-confident, strong, and loved and ready to tackle the world!
Today is Brandon’s 38th birthday. That is, it would have been Brandon’s 38th birthday…had he not gotten Leukemia…had he not died four years ago at age 34.
I miss my love every single day. But it is on these anniversaries that his absence is that much more pronounced – the birthdays, the holidays and our family’s significant moments.
d by wet kisses and big hugs from my son. He looked at me with his big beautiful eyes full of excitement and screamed “Happy Birthday Mama!!!”. His enthusiasm was genuine and palpable. And it touched my heart. The warm wishes were followed by the presentation of a card that he had proudly made accompanied by a song as he strummed his toy guitar.
I am a huge TV watcher…..always have been and probably always will be. My husband designs video games for a living and could easily be described as a “techie”. We have all the latest gadgets and gizmos: PCs, several laptops, iPads, tablets….you name it, we have...
Last week, I went out for dinner with some mommy-friends. I had a double espresso at 7pm in order to fight off the exhaustion that normally sets in around 10pm . I blow dried my hair, did my best attempt at a smokey-eye and left...
