DotMoms

A reminder to enjoy it while you can

By Cooper

As I walked out of the grocery store with my 5-year-old daughter the other day, she opened a package of Wonka Donutz snacks with such force the snacks flew all over the pavement. Pushing a cart filled to the brim with grocery bags, I tried to balance the cart, which was coasting down a slight grade in the parking lot, while scooping up my daughter -- and the damn snacks -- from the path of an oncoming bus.   

It had already been one of those days -- a we-need-bread, the 3-year-old has-a-fever, the 8-year-old forgot-the-homework, husband out-of-town, baby-got-a-huge-goose-egg, dog-got-loose day. And, I was really not happy about the Wonka purchase in the first place. So, I did what any imperfect mother would do and snapped.

"Come on, now, we are supposed to open this type of stuff in the car. Why did you do that? Hurry, come on, there are cars. Arrrrrrgh," I huffed.

At the same time, a woman, probably in her 70s, grabbed my cart, which, at this point, was also making its own way into traffic.

"Thank you," I said to the lady. "I am so sorry."

The woman smiled, looked at us, and in a soft voice said, "I would give anything to be there again."

I took the cart, smiled back and, as we walked away, I felt tears fill my eyes.

At that instant I knew, without a doubt, there will come a time in my life when I will look back and miss these moments -- exasperating, wonderful and everything in between -- and wish to have them all back, if just for a day. 

Cooper is the parent of two girls and two boys, ages eight to one. She lives in Pittsburgh, Pa., with her husband and children.

The good listener

By Cooper

My husband was asked during a work-related "communications" retreat to name the best listener he knows.

"Hands down, my father-in-law," Rick said. Rick went on to describe to the group how much it meant to him that when, after we have family dinners at my parents' house, as the kids climb into their car seats and sleepily chat with my mom and me, my dad and Rick will stand in the driveway, just the two of them, and talk.

When Rick told me about that question and his answer, tears instantly welled up in my eyes, because, he was absolutely right.

I can still picture Dad looking at me, when I was a very little girl, and being fully, completely present, even when I went on about the alphabet, Barbie dolls or Lord knows what else. One of my earliest memories is me saying to my dad, "I like having conversations with you."

Here I am, 39 years old, and I still love to talk to him. 

It has been a stressful summer in our household. Nothing major, but lots of accumulated things like moving to a new house, selling this house, my thyroid situation, jobs, having 40 (well, four) kids... I know it is boring, but earlier this week I was pretty much done in by it all. I haven't been able to see a way out -- or the bright side -- anywhere.

So, I called my dad.   

I talked and talked, and Dad did not say much except the occasional "uh huh," but, I knew he was listening. When I described some of my more complex dilemmas, Dad would interject little asides like "Oh, that is too bad," or "I am sorry it has to be like that."

Then, when I finished, he started to work his real magic. He asked questions about just about every problem I described, gently and in a way that, eventually, led me to a solution. The conversation lasted 37 minutes and when we hung up I felt like a new person.

He's my dad, but, over the years, he's also become a best friend.

I wish I could adequately put into words how much his gift for listening has given me. I want him to know that by paying attention to what I had to say he gave me confidence, curiosity and an open mind. While he was listening, I was learning. Perhaps the best way to show him his impact is to be a good listener for my kids, too. And then, I hope, in time, our family tree will be loaded with people who pay attention, listen well and are filled with wisdom, just like my dad.

Cooper is the parent of two girls and two boys, ages eight to one. She lives in Pittsburgh, Pa., with her husband and children.

Is it just me?

By Cooper

I am looking at the tail end of my summer that wasn't and am wondering -- am I the only one who feels like this so-called, peaceful, easy feeling season is just a variation on the crazy intensity of the rest of the year?

Maybe I am assigning too much meaning to a couple of months, but I was under the impression summer was a time to re-group, re-charge and get ready for the year ahead.

No such luck here.

I understand having young kids affords little time for rest and rejuvenation, but I just want to know how that woman I saw at the grocery store the other day -- tanned, no bags under her eyes, seemingly at ease with the three little kids bickering at her feet -- was able to say to me, "We all just got back from vacation and it was sooooo great. Very relaxing." 

Alright, DotMoms readers, what is up with that? How in the world is that possible? And, if you happen to be that blissful mom I was talking to in the grocery store, how'd ya pull it off? Come on, tell me.

OK, so, yes, we put our house on the market, and yes, I am in the middle of a huge writing project, and yes, my husband started a new job, and yes, the baby just started to walk and likes to climb atop furniture and empty every drawer/shelf/closet in the house and, yes, camp and other activities for the three older ones requires practically more time in the car than during the school year. Blah, blah, blah.

The fact is, the reality of our summer just doesn't jibe with what I want it to be, and, actually, what I know it should be. I have this image in my head of long, hazy, unstructured summer days -- outside, for the most part -- where everyone is calm, happy and laid back. We go on vacations that aren't stressful and we reconnect with each other. You know, hit the refresh button and come up nice, new and, well, fresh.

It is possible -- it must be possible -- even with little kids. The key is knowing the "how-to" secret of shifting it down a notch come summer and embracing those hot and lazy days.

I am talking to you, the one who looks like you have gotten plenty of sleep and has that nice tan. Spread the joy and give me some insight, I need it bad. Maybe then next August I can tell you all how great my summer was and how I am so very relaxed.

Cooper is the parent of two girls and two boys, ages eight to one. She lives in Pittsburgh, Pa., with her husband and children.

Mom power

Illustration by: Stacy Innerst, Post-Gazette

By Cooper

It seems as though the best of motherhood can be found in a blog.

For the last couple weeks I have interviewed over 20 blogger moms and dads for an article on parent blogging that ran in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. Among other things, I found:

1. Blogging provides a safe place to find a like-minded community, valuable advice, laughs and someone who will listen.

"Blogging moms are always there. They may not write every day but they're there, always within reach," DotMom Robin P. told me.

2. Time and time again in the blogosphere, people are willing to offer non-judgmental support and kindly, "Oh, honey, I've been there" virtual pats on the back.

"Blogging, to me, almost has more of an impact than say, a conversation on a park bench. I am always touched when I seek advice from a blog post and folks take the time to respond. They didn't have to, but they saw my post and took a minute to help me out... even though they don't have a clue who I am," said DotMom Charlene.

DotMom Jenn said she was struck by the way blogging unveils similarities among parents, "I finally realized that for every emotion I felt, someone else had felt it as well and could understand. For every experience I struggled with, someone else had struggled with it and offered support. And, for every whimsical tale I told of my children, there is always someone there to share in the fun with me."

DotMom Ellen described a unique experience she had through blogging.

"Being able to share some of my heartaches concerning stepmotherhood, for instance, has helped me deal with those mixed feelings. Other women have written to share how they, too, have adjusted to this new brand of 'mixed family,' and their comments have made me feel connected to the larger world. One stepmother and her stepdaughter each wrote me independently, giving their own viewpoints to how they had managed to get along over the years, and it was a very illuminating and encouraging correspondence," Ellen said.

3. Blogging is an ideal way to connect.

DotMom Christine lives in Germany and uses blogging as a way to stay in touch with family in the states. "It is a way to connect with my family, which mostly lives in Charlottesville, Va. They know more about me than they do about each other (and they live minutes away from each other!). I can rant, rave, and radically comment on the happenings of the day, in the news, or write silly entries with impunity," she said.

4. You can blog on your own time, when you want and how you want.

I liked what DotMom Mindy had to say about this, "It's OPTIONAL. The reading, the writing, the commenting, the visiting, the interaction -- no matter how strongly some may feel to the contrary, it is all optional. It is one of the precious few things in life that is."

5. Parents who blog find the creative outlet of writing to be both helpful to their craft and therapeutic.

"I started writing for DotMoms because I was looking for another writing outlet, somewhere I could write using a little more humor and creativity. I'm a writer/editor and do a lot of PR writing in my job, but I don't get to really express 'myself' through my writing. I had started reading blogs and was both entertained and impressed by the way people made everyday occurrences into funny entries. And I wanted to try my hand at it. At first I didn't look at it as a way to connect with other moms (and parents in general), but now I definitely appreciate the connections that blogging (or writing for DotMoms) provides," said DotMom Amy M.

6. In blogging, everyone is someone.

As Julie Moos, DotMom founder said, "Because there is a common refrain in blogging along the lines of 'I'm so glad I am not the only one," the experience of blogging reminds me of the Emily Dickinson poem, 'I'm nobody, Who are you? Are you nobody, too?' It is like a whole bunch of people getting together and realizing they are somebody."

After all these blogging conversations, I am prouder than ever to be a blogger and a DotMom.

Cooper is the parent of two girls and two boys, ages eight to one. She lives in Pittsburgh, Pa., with her husband and children.

When mama ain't happy

By Cooper

A few months ago an alien entered my body and took over.

The thing is, I did not know (or, perhaps, did not want to admit) it was there.

I was so tired, but, I told myself, I am always tired. And more than a little overwhelmed. Well, you all are mothers, you know, what do you expect? And very grumpy. Ask my husband, he'll tell you about that.

It got pretty intense, though.

Toys on the floor looked thoroughly ominous and insurmountable; I had little or no patience with most typical kid antics (remember the art project fiasco?); and just getting to 6 p.m., when my husband got home from work, without collapsing in a sobbing heap on the kitchen floor was a major undertaking.

But when my oldest daughter asked me four times in one afternoon, "Mom, why are you so stressed?" and I could not answer her, I had to admit to myself that something was wrong.

I went to the doctor and told him I was tired all the time and he said, "You have four kids, you should be tired."

I told him my heart was racing, I was achy all over and, although I ate very little, I still could not lose my "baby" weight.

So, he took some blood and a few days ago I found out I was not insane, I was hypothyroid. That means my thyroid (and, therefore, metabolism) doesn't work. Stress, of course, makes it worse.

So, for the last couple days I have been taking Synthroid and although I am not sure it has kicked in, I feel worlds better just identifying the alien inside me.

I am in the process of co-authoring a book on parenting and I found it more than a little ironic that here I was an impatient, stressed out, frazzled, disconnected mom and every day I was researching and writing about the great ways parents from all over are raising their kids. I have absolutely no excuse for being such a lame-o mom, I would say to myself, I have all these parenting skills right at my fingertips.

But, you know what I found out? A mountain of the best parenting books, research and anecdotes don't mean squat if you, the mom, don't take care of yourself.

I always chuckled at the phrase, "If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy," but now I know, with absolute certainty, it is a fact.   

Cooper is the parent of two girls and two boys, ages eight to one. She lives in Pittsburgh, Pa., with her husband and children.

Paved with good intentions

By Cooper

We have these three neighbor boys -- they are good kids, for the most part and, the majority of the time, they are polite. But what I notice most about them is that they are here every day, all day.

"So what?" you might say. Or, perhaps you think, "It keeps your kids busy, right? Go with it!"

I tried that line of rationalization.

Lately, I have been telling myself: "My kids are creating memories. They are learning how to interact with peers. It is important to establish bonds in the neighborhood!"

But, when it comes down to it, dealing with seven little kids, by myself, all afternoon, is a pain in the ass.

Yep. I am griping. Sorry. But I am still recovering from the Armageddon of the other day.

Have you ever had a parenting moment in which you think, "This will be great!" and it turns into a huge disaster? Well, I do that regularly, but when I brought out the paints late Wednesday afternoon, I really should have known better.

I felt so good about it at first. I had a large, white sheet and paints in a rainbow of colors (the box said washable!). I spread out the sheet and said, "Kids, paint this with pictures or your names and we will turn it into a really cool picnic blanket!" 

"Wow!" the kids shouted. The neighbor boys said, "This is soooooo cool!"

So, off I trotted, the baby in my arms, smug in the notion that I was giving the kids a "creative" and "proactive" project to do.

About eight minutes later the first scream came. The kids were throwing jars of paint at each other and then, in a "Lord of the Flies"/"Apocalypse Now" re-enactment, covering themselves, and each other, head to toe, in every hue.

But it did not stop there. Outdoor furniture, flower beds, the kitchen door, the dog. Nothing was left untouched. Through this, I am (unsuccessfully) attempting, with all my motherly, stern-voiced power, to stop the out of control, vivid riot in my back yard while running interference so they did not step one foot inside.

"But Mom, I want to see myself in the mirror!" my 3-year-old son kept wailing.

(Please note, I am also holding a screaming one-year-old at the time.)

Then, for some reason (it was the dinner hour, after all, so perhaps the kids had worked up an appetite), they stopped their rampage and let me spray them off. The hose didn't take anything off their clothes but, maybe, a little bit off their feet, legs, arms and faces.

"Your mother is going to kill me," I told the neighbor boys.

The oldest one winked (yes, he winked) and said, "I'll cover for ya."

At that point I picked up the sheet and realized most of our lovely, brick patio looked like it was covered in the aftermath of a Grateful Dead concert. The hose, even at full speed, did nothing to wash away the spirit of tie dye. 

A couple glasses of wine and a bucket of paint thinner later, the patio and I were doing better. When my husband got home he asked why I had a purple streak in my hair and a green hand print on my rear end.

I told him about my brilliant art project idea.

"What were you thinking?" he laughed.

I just looked at him (I tried to smile, really) and said, "Haven't you ever heard the expression about the road to Hell?"

Cooper is the parent of two girls and two boys, ages eight to one. She lives in Pittsburgh, Pa., with her husband and children.

My inner tween (why not?)

By Cooper

Before there was a word for it, before we revived Ophelia or worried about "Mean Girls," way back in the late '70s, I was a tween and I loved it.

My best friends on earth (and, we thought, forever) were Tierney and Lisa and, so, we were known as TLC.

I dove headfirst into everything life offered and rode a silly, happy, sometimes emotional pre-adolescent rollercoaster through my simple, sheltered life while quoting poetry and clipping phrases and photos from Teen Beat Magazine.

When I think about that time before I knew too much, I smile and well up at the same time.

I miss that girl from back then sometimes, but a few days ago I caught up with her again, and man is she fun.

On Monday night, I took my daughters, who are eight and five, to a movie premiere in Los Angeles and they got to meet their idol, Hilary Duff.

Yep. It was huge and my inner tween had a ball.

Here is how it happened.

A college friend of my husband's, a (very talented) actor named Mike O'Malley, is in a film, which opens June 17, called "The Perfect Man" with none other than Hilary Duff. (Sounds like a game of Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, doesn't it?)

A few weeks back, Mike was in town and came over for dinner. My 8-year-old knew he made a movie with Hilary Duff and, as those of you who live with 8-year-olds know, she hounded him about her and just about everything else that has to do with Hollywood, movies and television. Mike was wonderful and very patient. As he was leaving Mike said to Rick, "Why don't you bring the girls to L.A. for the premiere of 'The Perfect Man?' " 

So, we did. My mom and I took the girls and headed for Hollywood.

It was amazing. Between the cameras, screaming fans and flashing lights, my 8-year-old turned to me and said, "This is more than great."

We walked on the red carpet, met the stars of the movie (which is wonderful, by the way, very smart and funny), sat at Mike's table at the Hard Rock Cafe after party and, of course, met Hilary Duff. 

I am here to tell you: it is possible to be pushing 40 and want to jump up and down and scream like a girl. Believe me. In the frenzy of the whole, wacky night, I felt like I was 11 again.

When I held hands with my girls as we walked back to our car at the end of the evening I knew we shared something really special. For a brief moment, I was able to get into their heads, understand how exciting it was to them, and be a girl again.

When we got home, my 8-year-old started playing her Hilary Duff CDs almost immediately, but this time it didn't drive me as crazy as it did before.

Through the lens of our trip, and basking in the glow of connecting with my kids on their level, I was particularly struck by the lyrics of this song, "Why Not":

You'll never get to heaven or even to L.A
If you don't believe me there's a way

Why not
Take a star from the sky
Why not
Spread your wings and fly
It might take a little
And it might take a lot
But... why not
Why not

Message from man's land

By Cooper

In an effort to provide a dad's perspective, today's post is an interview with Rick, my husband of 10 years.

Me: OK, I am going to interview you for DotMoms.

Rick: But I am looking at your back, do you have to type?

Me: Yes, I have to type, come over here and you can sit on the corner of my desk.

Rick: But, I'm really liking this chair.

Me: Fine, I will turn around when we talk and then I will type.

What is the most important thing to you about being a dad?

Rick: Making my kids happy. Inspiring them. Passing on virtues and goodness and giving them strength to face bumps in the road.

Me: What is the difference for you in raising girls versus raising boys?

Rick: It is a hard question to answer because our girls are older than the boys and they are tomboys, which I really like, so it is harder to compare. I actually don't see a lot of difference. But, if you think back to when the girls were the age of the boys now there seems to be less negotiation with the boys. I would stop there because I am afraid someday one of our kids will find this and not be comfortable with it.

Why don't you ask me what I admire about you as a mother?

Me:  No, because it is too self-promoting. Why don't you talk about what you admire about motherhood in general?

Rick: Well, mothers in general? I truly admire the daily balancing act most mothers do between raising a family, contributing to the world through work, community service or education and, on top of it all, finding time for themselves somehow. I think women have a better handle on how to care for the outcome of this world than men, because they are mothers. They care for things, they nurture. Guys, in my experience, have a tendency to be more nomadic, selfish, driven, yes, but it is more about competition and less about sustaining. So, I guess that it is more about what I like about women than men. That transfers to mothers too. There are exceptions on the guy thing, of course. Lots of the dads who blog, for instance, seem to get it.

Next question?

Me: Alright, then, any message for me directly?

Rick: (laughing) I could go one route, but I won't.

Me: Good. My mother might read this.

Rick: How about this, is it really necessary to clean up every night?   

Me: Um, yeah. Can you pick up that crumbled Ritz Bit?

So, did you feel prepared for fatherhood?

Rick: I would say, did we feel prepared for parenthood? Did nine months get us in that frame? I think it is important to appreciate -- as parents for the first time -- the necessity for drastic change in your life. I think the thing that got me most prepared for parenting was our strong bond and that we wanted to share that with a child. There is a sense that it is the next logical step if we are so happy and understand each other and relate to each other on so many levels. I think you have to have that understanding.

Me: OK. Do you think we knew what we were doing?

Rick: No. But I will say life changed forever when you found out you were pregnant that first time. Well, every time for that matter. And we had a lot of family cheering us on.

Me: Do you have any moments that stand out in your eight years as a dad so far?

Rick: The four times you gave birth to our children. Each time I was completely blown away by the magic of childbirth and miracle of childbirth and how lucky I felt to be there. I will never forget it.

Me: Anything else?

Rick: Well, those definitely stand out. But something less heavy would be teaching our kids to ride two-wheeler bikes for the first time, watching the first step, performing on stage the first time and taking their first bow, scoring their first soccer goal, first days of school. When our 3-year-old said, "You're a good daddy."

Me: Any regrets?

Rick: No. Maybe a little less TV, less time at work and more time at home.

Me: In summary, as a representative dad, what would you like to say to DotMoms readers?

Rick: I am starting to see some marriages fail because I think many men don't understand what their wives' interests, goals or passions are. Try to find a balance so that you as a mother can explore a life that doesn't relate to motherhood. Communicate it. Help men, who often don't get the big picture, understand what shakes your tree and what will get you through this madness. Men need to be more like women, women don't need to be more like men.

Other than that I would say this: Moms are miracle makers.

What the experts say

By Cooper

My kids' pediatrician and the former principal of my elementary school happened to be at a fundraiser I attended last week and early into the event I found myself in a conversation with them about parenting.

Both of these men are well over 60 and have seen hundreds of children grow from babies to adults. So I asked them: What parenting styles, from their perspectives, are most effective?

I thought they would give me vague, general answers, but wouldn't you know it, they both answered immediately and said essentially the same thing:

• Don't hover.
• Let your kids be kids.
• Let kids learn for themselves and make (safe) mistakes.
• Let them be who they are, don't pressure them to be who you want them to be.

The pediatrician said he has seen time and time again that a baby who figures out how put himself to sleep and how to walk by falling a couple times is also the child who learns to think independently as a teenager and becomes a young adult who wants to see the world. He also said that the most well-adjusted kids have parents who are engaged and supportive, but don't "pitch that ball" for their kid.

The principal said he wished parents would stop pressuring kids to grow up. "Let a 5-year-old be five," he said. And, he added, don't stress about college when they are in kindergarten.

For a child to learn (and want to learn) she needs two, simple, straightforward things, according to my former principal:

• she needs to feel good about herself
• she needs to be in a strong academic program

You can't have one with out the other.   

I have to have more of these conversations. 

When a feminist has sons

By Cooper

During the Q & A section of a lecture I attended many, many years ago, I asked Gloria Steinem this stupid question: "If I ever have a son, what do I do if I find a Playboy magazine under his mattress?"

Not knowing much about anything, especially kids, I felt finding pictures of naked ladies in a boy's room was tantamount to the end of the world, not to mention the inevitable proof that all males viewed all females as nothing but objects.

I shudder a bit when I think about that, mostly because I had what is likely one opportunity to ask Steinem -- in my opinion, a great mind of our time -- a question and that Playboy one was all I could come up with.   

Steinem paused for a minute, and very nicely resisted rolling her eyes, and said something to the effect of, "Well, if you make a big stink out of something, it will become more attractive."

That was back in a time when I just did not understand (or trust) males. I was in my early twenties, I only had a sister, and although I went to a co-ed college, I had attended an all girls middle and high school.

Having just entered adulthood, I was becoming acutely aware of the injustices women everywhere faced.

I remember screaming at the white male senators on my tiny, cheap TV who were grilling and humiliating Anita Hill.

I marched for choice. My old, fat (male) boss hit on me. A couple boyfriends turned out to be really horrible losers. I listened to the Indigo Girls and Bonnie Raitt, and felt they understood.

For a period of time -- especially after one really bad, broken heart incident -- I viewed men (except for my dad) in the same big, broad way: they were no good.

If ever the subject of children came up in a conversation, I would always say, "I don't know what I would do if I had a boy."

But then my now husband (who is enlightened and wonderful) came into the picture and I started to mellow on the whole anti-guy thing.

And guess what? After having two daughters I also now have two sons.

And guess what else? One of the best things in the world to me is having little boys.

I love my daughters with every fiber of my soul, but (forgive me for saying this out loud) my relationship with my boys is different.

I am not sure I can put it into words, although I can tell you what makes my heart go pitter patter and sends me over the moon. My 3-year-old wears a red cape every day and carries a fake, plastic lizard in his pocket. He loves to climb on top of the couch and jump into my arms and he always says "Thank you." My 1-year-old son has hair that sticks straight up, giggles big belly laughs when I tickle him and tilts his head to the side and smiles when he looks at me.      

I think maybe it is that I never "knew" boys when I was growing up and now, experiencing for the first time the simple, straightforward purity of my little guys, it brings me such joy.

I also feel blessed that with time comes wisdom.

If I ever find a Playboy under one of my boy's beds, I know it won't be the end of the world, and I also know it won't be because he disrespects women.

I am making sure of that.