Mom in the Mirror

The year in review

I've only been blogging since August, and already a whole patch of posts -- 204 of them -- has grown (some weeds, some flowers). I want to highlight a few that have particular meaning to me and maybe you'll find a few that mean something to you as well.

LifeFiles columns
These are links to collections of columns published before I started blogging:

• LifeFiles #5


• LifeFiles #4


• LifeFiles #3


• LifeFiles #2.5


• LifeFiles #2


• LifeFiles #1

These are links to columns published simultaneously on this blog in the last few months:

• Life sucks


• I hate your husband


• Give up the remote & other tips for a happy home


• The scarlet S


• Whose name is it?


• Married to my computer


• You're not the man I married


• If I won the lottery


• So many reasons to hate the season

DotMoms posts
I started DotMoms as a group weblog for mothers and others who want to write about life on the homefront. I continue to edit it, but rarely contribute.

• The DotMomafesto


• Who are your role models?


• Screen time


• Saying no to the neighbors


• Where did your parenting style come from?


• What scares me


• It's 3:30 p.m., does your mom know you're blogging?


• Still grateful after all these years

MomintheMirror posts
Some of your favorites and mine.

• Reflection #2


• Peeing in private


• It costs a village


• The eye of God


• Weekends are for what?!


• Whose hair is it anyway?


• The family paper


• Birthday party etiquette


• Your turn to be last


• Dr. Seuss on blogs


• Suspicious of the Sno-Cone man


• The best seat in the house


• Weight a minute


• There's nothing domestic about family violence


• Block by block


• I want to be my cat
  
• Sex rules


• TV IV


• Wanna cuddle?


• I'm the little engine


• The 12 Days of Christmas, family style

Better left unsaid?
Topics I meant to write about but never did.

• I think in html


• Mommy really was kissing Santa Claus


• Shopping with a girl


• Flu frenzy


• I'd hate to be my manager


• Being No. 3


• Are families really necessary?


• Coasting


• Sometimes I get it right


• 32AA


• Where inspiration strikes


• Friends, but not really


• What I brought home with me


• The me in the pictures


• A snob about cleanliness


• The paradox of mourning


• My last meal would be a buffet


• Speaking with my hands


• What annoys me


• I want to follow my destiny, but which one?


• I am not my mother


• School non-choice


• A full schedule


• Night feedings (mine)


• Still the teacher's pet


• The family bed


• Saving men from themselves


• Devoted to you


• Game Boy junkies


• The ringing phone


• I follow directions obsessively


• School lunches


• Southern cell phone etiquette

LifeFiles #5

I finally finished transferring my LifeFiles columns to this weblog. These are the last few, which were my very first ones published:

• Keeping track of what counts


• Choosy moms pick kids' friends carefully


• Gossip oversimplifies, damages all involved


• Fighting the three-headed monster


• Cleaning not as neat as family time (this is still one of my favorites)

What women (and men) want

As the year ends, there are many lists circulating, including this one: the New York Times Magazine articles that have been e-mailed most.

The list of five begins:

1. The Futile Pursuit of Happiness by Jon Gertner. "Researchers in the burgeoning field of 'affective forecasting' are finding that when it comes to personal satisfaction in your life, you can't really know what you want."


2. The Opt-Out Revolution by Lisa Belkin. "Many high-powered women today don't ever hit the glass ceiling, choosing to leave the workplace for motherhood. Is this the failure of one movement or the beginning of another?"


3. Is Buddhism Good for your Health? by Stephen S. Hall. "Researchers are making the case that Eastern-style meditation is good not just for your emotional well-being but also for your physical state."

I'm struck by the fact that all three of the top choices are about health and happiness (the last two are about taxes and terrorism). It reminds me of the wish I always make on the first star I see each night:

Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight. I wish for health, happiness and peace for my family and all the families of the world.

May 2004 be the year my wish and all our wishes come true.

Today's worry list

1. Money. This has been the first year I haven't worried too much about money, which is partly why I spent more than I should have and am once again worried about money. But the truth is that whether or not I worry, I spend more than I should. So, I have brief periods of spending without worry, then periods of worrying while I spend. At some point, maybe I'll just learn to spend less.

2. What do I want to be when I grow up? I really like my job, but am feeling a little external pressure to think about what's next for me. (This is very ironic because until now I was always thinking about my next career move.) I love writing, but fear that getting paid to do it would take all the fun and freedom out of it for me.

3. What does Gary want to be when he grows up? This is an ongoing conversation in my house, but it's become especially critical since we moved and Gary's clients stayed behind in North Carolina.

4. What will Colter need that we can't give him? At first my thoughts were headed toward braces and a really expensive college education, but then they moved to the abstract: good friends, true love, his health.

5. Will Gary and I age as traumatically as our parents have? I can't bear the thought of losing control over my mind, my body, or my life. And yet I know that at some point I will.

What's worrying you?

Oh me of little faith

I was really disappointed when Gary told me that he and Colter didn't buy me the robe I wanted for Hanukkah because by the time they got to Target it was sold out. It was the only thing I asked for and I was so frustrated that they had procrastinated and I wouldn't even be able to buy the one I wanted for myself. Imagine my surprise when I unwrapped presents and discovered the softest robe in the history of the world. Softer even than the one I'd chosen. Softer than Colter's buttery skin. Softer than my cat's fur. I'm wearing it for the first time now and feel like I'm in a baby's blanket, wrapped in the love of a very sneaky family.

She likes him, she really likes him

I am really not ready for this. Colter has spent the day playing with a beautiful little 9-year-old girl who is polite, sweet, smart and fun. And who announced a few minutes ago that she likes him. Likes him, likes him. Like as more than a friend.

She patiently explained to me that the way you like your parents is different from the way you like a boy. She said she can tell that Colter likes her as more than a friend, too. I told her I wasn't sure Colter knew how that felt yet and asked her to describe it. She said she couldn't. That saved both of us from further discussion.

During the entire conversation, Colter sat next to her (their legs were touching!) and watched TV -- just like a man, already.

Gary's worried this shift will ruin their friendship. I'm worried it won't!

>>For more on this topic, see "How worried should I be?"

My nomadic life

It's the time of year when friends and family send holiday wishes, with pictures of their kids and annual updates tucked inside. After opening about a dozen envelopes, I notice a trend: their addresses, their jobs, their interests are remarkably consistent from year to year, while mine change.

Maybe it's in my blood (there are gypsies shaking my family tree) or in my upbringing (chaotic) or in both. I am unsettled. I am always struggling, always striving, always seeking.

And yet, I envy people whose lives are settled. They have a sense of resolution, a comfort and ease, a finish to them that I lack.

Which are you: settled or nomadic?

In the driver's seat

We're home after 26 hours of driving (13 hours to N.C. and 13 back), and I am surprisingly relaxed after spending so much time behind the steering wheel. I drove the entire trip, and here's why. I drive the way I do everything: fast. And Gary drives the way he lives: slow and steady. So, if I want to get somewhere quickly (which I always do) I drive.

In a way, I'm also the driving force in our family. I wanted to have a baby, and we did. I wanted to accept a job that would take us to Florida, and so we moved. Gary has been a driving force in other respects. He wanted to get married, and we wed. He wanted to own a house, and we did. So, maybe we take turns steering the family.

Who drives your family car?

The 12 Days of Christmas, Family Style

On the 12th day of Christmas, here's what was facing me:

12 cookies baking
11 cousins coming
10 loads of laundry
9 gifts for wrapping
8 stockings hanging
7 cards remaining
6 siblings squabbling
5 minutes late
4 pots to wash
3 calling friends
2 toddlers tumbling
and a turkey in the oven

Make up your own version of the 12 days and sing it as a family.

So many reasons to hate the season

I've always suffered from December depression.

I think it started in earnest the year my parents first gave me a check instead of wrapped packages. I was in my 20s by then, but still had a kid's Christmas dreams (which is a little strange, because I'm Jewish, but that's a subject for another time).

When my father and stepmother married, our family grew, and instead of buying small presents that drew us closer to each other and into the spirit of giving, we drew names from a grab bag and each selected one person to gift. It was practical, but pathetic.

And for many years after, the festivities were filled with an endless series of verbal prods:

• What do you plan to do when you graduate?


• When are you getting married?


• When are you having children?


• When are you giving little Whoever a brother or sister?

When will they stop?!

I considered creating a holiday happiness scale that measures the misery by the number of questions asked. Instead, I drank a little more egg nog. (Actually, I hate egg nog. Why would I want to drink eggs?)

The only thing I hate more is how expensive it is to survive the season. Heck, even the 12 days of Christmas now cost $16,885.28, according to a Pittsburgh-area financial group that has been tracking the expense for 19 years. The group attributes the 16 percent increase over last year to the rising price of calling birds and swans-a-swimming.

Don't misunderstand. I love picking out the perfect presents for my son, my husband and a few friends and family members. I know them well, understand what they want out of life, and am thrilled to discover gifts that will help make their dreams come true. Nothing is better than delivering those with some tinsel and a twinkle.

But generally speaking, I am much better at giving than receiving, so the public opening of boxes and oohing and ahhing is part of what I hate about the holidays.

And there's so much more anticipatory awkwardness as well. Did that friend from work buy me something? Do I need to reciprocate? Will cousin Whatchamacallit's special package arrive on time? Is Uncle Whosiwig going to get drunk and kiss everyone who accidentally passes his way?

The worst thing about this month, though, is all the money I spend seeing people I never make time for the rest of the year.

Once, I actually tallied up the amount we spent on meeting friends at bars and restaurants, bringing hostess gifts to parties, and ordering food for our own get-together. It was in the thousands. And that was before we had a child, with visions of toys that make noise.

It isn't just the financial cost that gets me, though, it's the expectation that for at least one month a year I'll be happy, joyful, and in good spirits, whether I like it or not.

Every year I truly believe this will be the one when I'll roll up my sleeves, get out the rolling pin and make cookies.

Somehow, I expect the calendar to transform me into Mrs. Claus. And I'm always disappointed in myself and in the power of the season when it doesn't.

This year, all I want for Christmas is a peaceful end to the year, one that leaves my bank balance and mental balance on the positive side.

Until then, I'm dreaming of a silent night.

This LifeFiles column originally appeared on about 70 TV station websites managed by Internet Broadcasting Systems.