New Communities

President Obama's speech today made me think a lot about "community." We have our world community, the "community feeling" reported in the congress and senate, the call to help others in our community, and of course the many communities who gathered together to watch the inaugural festivities today in churches and schools across the country. And yet this year I have discovered a whole new sense of community. I have found thousands of mothers, like myself, who have a passion for writing and exploring family life. I have found, and joined a growing number of mother bloggers.

Through networks like the Mom Bloggers Club, Cafe Mom, and Moms in a Blog, I've received everything from writing advice to crock pot recipes. These are smart and interesting women across the globe who have come together to create a new sense of community and caring. I'm enjoying my new friends, and learning a lot in this maternal cyber world. My sense of community keeps expanding and evolving. And. I'm so very pleased to have added a new dimension of community to my life this year!

Lose Weight - Tips and Tricks

If you’re not trying to lose weight, don’t bother reading this.

If you are trying to lose weight, you may find this info interesting, or even helpful. Personally, I’ve always been a “tips and tricks” type of person. For any hobby, like cooking or knitting, and even for the important stuff in life, like raising kids, I’ve always found I can take a little something away from a list of helpful tips and tricks. So, here are some of my weight loss tips and tricks, and I hope you find something useful.

Tip #1: Roast a bunch of veggies and keep them in your fridge. When everyone sits down for dinner and wolfs down a plate of pasta or tacos, you can join them by creating your own variation of the dish. I like roasted squash, onion, mushrooms, and maybe even some eggplant. You can add these veggies to your plate with some meat (turkey meatballs, chicken) or put them in a whole wheat tortilla with some salsa and fat free sour cream. The veggies last a long time and you can change the flavor depending on what you’re making for the rest of your gang.

Tip #2: Soup du jour/soup galore! The Weight Watchers veggie soup is so good and, again, you can add whatever protein you like. At Trader Joe’s I buy the pre-cut carrot, onion and celery soup starter and then add a pack of cole slaw and whatever I have around – like zucchini and garbanzo beans. Of course, I eat a lot of lentil soup, too. Soup is filling and usually low fat and low calorie. If you open a can, have ½ and then eat the other ½ as a snack or mid-afternoon meal.

Tip #3: Going out to dinner? This may seem tortuous, but save 500-600 calories for going out. Yes, you may be ravenous. Fill up on V8, or instant miso soup (unless you have high blood pressure.) Drink tea or have some low-cal snack like grapefruit or celery. Go online and look at the menu of the restaurant. Get excited about a nice piece of grilled fish, or whatever healthy entree you can find.

Tip #4: Keep an online food journal. There are a bunch of them, but I like Fitday. Yes, it takes some time to keep track of your food, but the more you do, the more you know what foods are filling, healthy and low cal.

Hope these little tricks help you, and please let me know about YOUR tips and tricks.

Fresh Starts

There were some wonderful holiday moments -- skiing with the kids, meals with extended family, not to mention my brand new laptop computer! But, when I dragged the tree out of the house yesterday, I admit, I felt relieved. Finally, I'm home alone and getting things organized. The boxes of decorations are returned to their perch on a shelf in the basement, and I have some big ideas for some redecorating touches around the house. The post-holiday, New Year energy is inspiring me and motivating me to make changes big and small.

For example, I love make-up. In fact, I think I should have gone into cosmetics and hair as an occupation. After dropping some hints to my trusty 11-year-old daughter, I found a cosmetic kit under the tree. Last night I dug through that old, crusty, make-up drawer. You know, the one with the three bottles of old foundation that never quite matched my skin tone? That drawer in which the blush broke and dusted the corners and crevices? I cleared out all of that old junk and kept only the basics -- the stuff I really use. It is such a pleasure to open that drawer now.

My schedule was also in dire need of an overhaul. I'm setting time aside not only for writing, but also for more reading. And, I signed on to take a course on writing Children's books! I'm excited for mental stimulation in 2009.

And, of course, I know I need to take better care of my body. The way I see it, I'm about half way through my life. So, I went to the gym today. I plan to attend the Body Conditioning Class on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. And, when I went to the grocery store, I stocked up on tons of fruits and veggies. I also signed on to FitDay, which allows me to keep an online food journal so I can actually pay attention to what I'm eating (or what I'm not.) I know, I probably do these things every year, but still, I like fresh starts. I like the possibilities and hope they provide.

I recently read an essay by Andrew Sullivan, in the collection of essays, This I Believe. In describing the United States, and our lofty goals like liberty and the pursuit of happiness, he writes, "In the constant failure to arrive...lies the possibility of a permanent fresh start."

I realize that my house will be a mess again, as will my make-up drawer. I know that I will never be as fit as I was in my twenties. And, my writing and mental growth will suffer from the usual ebbs and flows. But the goal is secondary to the journey. As Sullivan says, " I believe in the pursuit of happiness. Not its attainment, nor its final destination, but its pursuit." For me, I believe in fresh starts, and I'm excited for 2009.

Ladies Night

I hosted a neighborhood ladies night at my house this past week. There were nine of us all together, and we had a Yankee Swap, and it was a blast. During the evening, every one of my buddies came up to me and said, "Thanks for doing this...I REALLY needed this."

Getting together with the girls is such a release. Yes, we complain about the repetitive schedules of our lives, schlepping kids here and there, cleaning, laundry. Yes, we also brag about our kids -- who got honors and who made what team. We crack jokes at our husband's expense, mostly about snoring and clueless Christmas shopping. We even delve into our emotional states, noting that as our teenage daughters display a wide range of emotions, we mirror those as we go through our life changes. But mostly, we just laugh.

These are the ladies I met at pre-school and kindergarten when we said those teary goodbyes as we left our children for the morning. Many of our friendships started with coffee, or a spontaneous dinner when we fed the kids chicken nuggets and french fries. We're a tight knit group. We've vacationed together, organized fundraisers, and taken each other's kids for weekends. We are each other's emergency contacts. And, we've seen each other through life's major landmarks, like the birth of children and the death of parents. These days, we're commiserating over unemployment, the economy and the stress of what we're going to do to fulfill our lives as our children grow and eventually move on into their own lives.

But this week, things were light. For my Yankee Swap gift, I got an ornament and some cashmere gloves. As I placed the ornament on my tree and looked around my house, I recognized that so many of my Christmas decorations were from our Holiday Ladies Nights of the past. Looking back, I think this was our 10th. And, I know, no matter where we end up, we will easily have 10 or 20 more! So, here's to girlfriends, one of the best gifts my life has given me! Happy Holidays!

Holiday Memories

I pulled a big box of Christmas decorations up from the basement and the kids were all over it. They wanted to hang stockings and set up the nativity scene. Seizing upon their enthusiasm, I played The Nutcracker on the stereo. Suddenly, in my mind I was transferred to my old kitchen, watching my two little ballet dancers twirl and leap over cracked linoleum with unbridled joy. At age 4, Lil’J would try to jump and spin higher and higher, and 2-year-old C would be daintily walking on tiptoes and then gracefully hopping from foot to foot. We would turn the lights off in the kitchen and dance by the filtered light from the dining room. “Spin me,” one of them would inevitably request, and I would lift my baby into the air and spin around like the Sugar Plum Fairy. We often danced through the whole CD.

They don’t remember their grand performances, but they do remember the music from the Nutcracker, and I catch them humming or whistling the tunes during the holiday season. I miss my children. I mean, I still have them and I love each phase of their childhood, but I miss the littler versions of them. I miss their openness and playful spontaneity. While still fun and enthusiastic, my teen and ‘tween are just that much more self-conscious. Gone are the days of ballet dancing in the kitchen to the Nutcracker.

Christmas brings out a montage of memories, and when we decorate the tree my favorites are the photo ornaments that feature the kids during different stages of their childhood. These used to be photos that pre-school or kindergarten teachers took, and then turned into ornaments. Now they’re school photos in frames from the Christmas Tree Shop. I got two new photo-holding ornaments this year, and I eagerly await the kid’s school photos (they both did re-takes this year…go figure.) One special ornament that probably started this whole tradition is a white heart that holds a picture of Big J and I kissing on our wedding day. What a great gift from a good friend. Our tree, I’ve decided, is even more beautiful because it tells the story of our family.

As my solace in this fast-moving motherhood blur, I remind myself constantly that we’re still making memories. C and I made cookies this past week, she made the batter all on her own. Lil’J and I will take our annual Christmas shopping trip together next week, and we’ll crack up over the stupid present ideas and imagine Big J’s response when we buy him a “soap on a rope.” Yes, I miss my little son and daughter, but they’re still little, aren’t they? Maybe, to me, they always will be.

Fantasies Disrupted

NOTE: I wrote this ten years ago and just found it on my computer. Here's the answer to the question you will ask at the end: Yes, I still do that in my car.

It’s happening more and more. Reality keeps interrupting my fantasies. It’s like that pre-recorded message from the Emergency Broadcast System that interrupts TV shows, but this show is in my mind: WE INTERRUPT THIS FANTASY TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU ARE A THIRTY-FIVE YEAR OLD WOMAN WITH A HUSBAND AND TWO CHILDREN, AND THIS COULD NEVER, EVER HAPPEN TO YOU!
I’ll never, for example, be a rock star. This is the fantasy I usually have in the car. I’ll drop the kids off at pre-school, take their “Raffi” tape out, and pop-in my own selection.
“Ahhh, my own music!”
I sing my heart-out to Paula Cole, Alanis Morissette, Madonna, Annie Lenox, or better yet, Cheryl Crow. “Jump in let’s go...lay back, enjoy the show...” The music transforms me into a leather-clad, slouchy, cool-chick baring a sleek and toned midriff. On stage, I pour my heart into the microphone. Oh, did I mention I’m really thin, too?
In the audience are old friends and some old enemies, cheering, and dancing wildly: college roommates, ex-bosses and co-workers, my old boyfriend, and the woman he dumped me for. They’re next to Mr. Bugle, the singing teacher who didn't pick me for the select choir. They’re all there, and I think, Ha! I showed you! My voice sounds great. “Everybody gets high, everybody gets low. These are the days when anything goes...” I turn around to smile at the guys in the band -- they’re so talented.
I savor this moment, but I know it’s coming...that high-pitched beeping that precedes the recorded announcement. WE INTERRUPT THIS FANTASY, it says, BECAUSE IT’S TOO LATE IN YOUR LIFE TO BECOME A LEAD SINGER IN A ROCK BAND. FACE IT, the announcement intones, IT AIN’T GONNA HAPPEN.
“Oh yea,” I say to myself, remembering that I just dropped the kids off and need to buy Wisk at the grocery store. Back in scruffy jeans and a sweatshirt, I try to hum, at least to the end of the song, “Everyday is a winding road...”
I really don’t have a problem with aging. I’ve greeted each of my thirty-plus birthdays with enthusiasm. I’m happy to be healthy and alive. I don’t worry about wrinkles, and I’ve always colored my hair, so I don’t care about gray. But leaving my youthful dreams behind is tough. In fact, I’m getting a little obsessed.
My son announced he wants me to be a ballerina.
“Maybe I’ll be one for Halloween,” I told him.
“No,” he said, “I want you to be a real one!”
Well, why aren’t I a dancer now? I ask myself. I took dance for fifteen years of my life. Why did I stop?
Now, I realize that many adventures will just have to stay in my dreams. I’ll never: 1. live in New York City, 2. date a guy who drives a jeep and plays the guitar, 3. go skydiving, 4. hitchhike across Ireland -- just to name a few. And even if I do any of these things, it won’t be the same as in my dreams, because I won’t be doing them young.
I could say that I’m better-off. After all, I’ve done a lot so far. I’ve traveled a fair bit (never enough) and had a complete, successful career before I became a mom. I must emphatically proclaim that I am happy with the choices I’ve made, choices that have led me to a wonderful husband and incredible kids. No, I wouldn’t change a thing, even if I could... But the question is, how do I let go of my fantasies?
Should I modify them to fit my responsible position in life? I guess I can still travel, although maybe not hitchhike, when the kids get older. We could move to New York City after we retire, but it wouldn’t be the same. Skydiving and the Jeep-guy are out of the question. Then there’s always Karaoke... Pathetic!
Maybe I just need new fantasies. I’ve been toying with “Great American Novel” fantasies -- a wise author at her cluttered desk. Myself on-stage, in a nice suit, receiving an award. That would be a good one, although not exactly rock-star material.
Or, there’s always the danger of becoming one of those weird parents who never achieved their personal dreams, so they try to re-live their life through their children. My daughter will become a rock star! Or the dancer! Maybe my son will drive a jeep and play guitar! How strange would that be?
Maybe some fantasies are meant to stay exactly that...fantasies. Or, as Webster’s puts it, “the free play of creative imagination.” (Rather poetic for a dictionary, don’t you think?)
I read somewhere that very depressed people have “too realistic” a view of themselves. Perhaps their lives are so based on the mundane tasks -- driving kids around, buying Wisk -- that they lose hope. Maybe the opposite is true. Maybe people who imagine themselves in grandiose terms -- a rock star or Pulitzer Prize winner -- can better survive daily drudgeries. Maybe an active fantasy life actually makes me a better and happier person. After all, standing in line at the grocery store isn’t quite so bad when you’ve just given a concert in your car.

I’ve decided I like my old fantasies. I’ve become attached to them. I know they’re just silly dreams, but don’t they still, in some way, make me who I am? Aren’t they as much a part of me as my real successes and failures? Letting go of my old fantasies would be like blanking out parts of my life, even though they are just parts of my imaginary life.
I think I’ll keep the old fantasies, and maybe make room for some new ones, too. Like a dvd collection, I’ll add new fantasies, but still watch the old ones. There’s nothing like a good classic for a really long drive.
Through thick lashes, I peer soulfully out to the audience. They are entranced. Disposable lighters flicker around the stadium. "If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad..." Then, when I hear that high-pitched beep, the start of the WE INTERRUPT message, I just tell the guys in the band, “Hey! Crank it up!”

Technically Speaking

When I was in 7th grade, I had my first boyfriend. Basically, our relationship consisted of talking on the phone. When Tommy called, first he had to get through a family member to get to me. My mom would holler across the house, "Joyce, Tommy's on the phone," and this would be followed by the giggles and snickers of my siblings. Tom would usually be chatting into the phone connected to his kitchen wall, and I would be in the family room with my mom folding laundry nearby. Needless to say, we had absolutely no privacy.

I recently wrote about my two encounters with Paul Newman, and my brother responded that with today's technology I never would have met him. The first encounter was in a record store ... remember those? The second encounter was when Mr. Newman borrowed my phone when I was the receptionist at a country club. Now, he would clearly have his cell phone.

So, as my son texts girls, and as my daughter complains that we won't allow her to receive picture texts, I have to wonder how all this technology is effecting my family and communication in general? Am I less likely to meet a movie star or talk to my son's someday girlfriend? Is technology actually making my world smaller?

Here's another scenario: It's my freshman year of college and I haven't spoken to my parents in weeks. You see, the only phone is in the hallway of my dormitory's second floor. When I call home I have to do it collect, and when my parents call it is very unlikely that I'm even around. In five years, when Lil'J heads off to college, we'll have email, cell phones and maybe even video messaging to rely upon. My assumption is that we'll be in touch.

Maybe technology does shut us off a bit from the rest of the world. After all, who stops for directions these days when we all have GPS systems? On the other hand, through Facebook and email, I'm in contact with some people from my past who I assumed I'd never hear from again. Maybe technology enhances communication with those we know, and decreases our chances of interacting in the real world. The real question is, while technology changes are people changing, too? Are Lil'J's text conversations to middle school girls any more or less innocent than my awkward phone conversations with Tommy? Are movie stars any less friendly? Are college kids any more likely to miss their parents? My guess is, probably not. Technology may increase or decrease our access, but in my estimation, human nature evolves at a much slower pace.