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Wordless Wednesday: First Haircut

momfluential — Wed, 08 Sep 2010 20:57:37 +0000

Lots of firsts this week, but I’m putting this first first for Wordless Wednesday.

Lazy Mary and Other Childhood Legacies

momfluential — Tue, 07 Sep 2010 09:54:46 +0000

I almost said it. I almost said these words to my own daughter:

“Hey lazy Mary… get up off your butt and…”

But I stopped myself. My daughter is not a lazy person. She might have been behaving in a lazy way. But it’s not who she is. I should know. I AM Lazy Mary. Or at least I was. It was my childhood nickname. More than a nickname. Lazy Mary is the the nickname tattooed in invisible ink across my heart. It’s hiding in the fiber of my weave. Lazy Mary is a stain that won’t come out of my soul.

When it was time to collect the fallen twigs from the weeping willow in the back yard, I would be called by my name of shame.

When it was time to clean my room. Polish the silver. Walk the dog. Fold the laundry. Carry in the groceries. Shovel the snow. Clean up after dinner. Ace that test. Apply for a job. And on and on. Lazy Mary. Lazy. Lazy. Lazy.

I’m not saying I didn’t earn the moniker. I’m sure I was less than enthusiastic at times about my chores and responsibilities. I see how my own children move when pressed into service. Like chilled molasses poured from a vase. Slow. Begrudging.

The nerve! When I am so tired. So very tired. Don’t they know how tired I am? Can they not hear my bones creak and see my eyes burn? I feel my tongue swell, so great is my desire to blurt it out.

“Come on Lazy Mary! Why does it take you so long to get out off the couch to empty the dishwasher?! All you’ve done all day is lay around and watch tv. What’s the matter with you?”

I hate myself for having thought it. Because a moment later I’ll remember my daughters throughout the day: hair flying in the wind as they bounced on the trampoline, long limbs moving so quickly and gracefully as they practiced a dance they’d learned; their lightning speed as they ran after their baby brother to make sure he didn’t get hurt on the stairs. So not lazy. So undeserving of that title.

I’ve spent the last 25 years trying to shake my title of Lazy Mary. Even though I was a gymnast as a tween, for which I spent whole summers perfecting my moves, it wasn’t ever enough. I joined the track team my freshman year of high school. I biked thousands of miles in Canada. I aced the SATs. I graduated high school a year early.

In college I was a triple major. Each summer I worked multiple jobs and saved money to travel the world. I cleaned floors at youth hostels and sold handmade jewelry on the street. It wasn’t enough. My friends had better grades and more impressive internships. They were thinner. They had better, higher paying jobs and nicer cars. They were less lazy. Clearly.

Everything I did, everything I’ve ever done, was a sign. Every failure. Every extra pound. Every doomed relationship. Every job I did not get. Every B that should have been an A. Every plant I’ve ever killed and everything I’ve ever broken or lost. The result of my lazy ways.

I’ve had four children, some of whom I’ve travelled to Siberia and back for. I’ve sewn their clothes (and mine) and refinished their furniture. I’ve knit them sweaters. I’ve hand stencilled their walls.

I’ve decorated my entire home with pillows and curtains I’ve sewn and pictures I’ve framed and painted. Also, this home… I clean it myself. It’s a big home.

Because I prefer organic food, I planted a garden. I grow my own vegetables. I plan, shop for and make dinners on a regular basis, trying to incorporate the food I’ve grown. I clean the kitchen afterwards. I wash clothes. I fold and put them away. I plan and execute birthday parties and shopping trips. I drive people here and there. I take them to doctor’s appointments. I bake them cakes. I cut their hair. I dye my own. It’s not so hard.

I don’t enjoy doing all these things myself. In truth I don’t do them ALL myself. I get some help from my husband and friends and my lovely unlazy daughters. Which is another source of guilt and feeling of failure for me. I shouldn’t need their help. It’s further proof of how lazy I am! And if you’re wondering why I’m not paying someone else to do these things I clearly don’t always enjoy? Because paying someone to do something you could do adequately yourself if you just got up off your ass and did it already? Seems lazy.

Most days I work till midnight or one am in order to squeeze a full time work day into my childcare free stay-at-home mom day. I wake by six or seven am. Because if I hear others up and I lay in bed? Neglect to exercise? Sit on the couch when I am too exhausted to move any more? Lazy Mary. Lazy Mary!

I’m working like a dog who’s trying to win the Iditarod, almost everyday. Always trying to shake my greatest fear. That it’s not enough. That I’m not enough. That I am lazy. I could do more. I could be more. I could make my husband happier. I could be a better friend. I could be a better daughter. I could educate my own children when the system failed them. I could be thinner, richer, wiser and more successful. If only….I wasn’t so lazy. Then perhaps I’d be enough.

Enough? Enough! When does it end? When will I ever be able to lay around and simply enjoy a novel or watch a movie, on a day when I am not deathly ill or trapped in an airplane? When will I sleep in? When will the legacy of Lazy Mary die? What physical, emotional or mental feat do I need to accomplish to lay her to rest?

What will it take to make me believe I’m not lazy? How do we undo the beliefs about ourselves that set in during childhood? And how do we spare our own children?

I’m asking myself these questions out loud, in public, because I suspect I’m not entirely alone. Maybe your secret nickname isn’t Lazy Mary but something else. Something else that tricks you into believing you’re not enough.

Note: I had this revelation about Lazy Mary while reading a blog post about the fear of fat by my friend Cheryl who writes over at MommyPants. She lamented her childhood nickname of “Fatso Fogarty” . It’s an ironic nickname because Cheryl is not fat, nor was she fat as a child. Nevertheless this nickname seems to have had a similarly unreasonable effect on her as “Lazy Mary” has had on me . As I read Cheryl’s post, I heard my own nickname loud and clear. Lazy Mary.

Of course, after reading Cheryl’s post I had to Google “Lazy Mary” to see who this bitch who messed with my head really is. Cheryl found that Fatso Fogarty was a character from Jackie Gleason (as well as a pub). I couldn’t wait to see from what random source Lazy Mary sprung. Sure enough I found she was a comical character in a verse of a song made popular in the late 50s by Lou Monte. Which may have been where my parents got it, either consciously or subconsciously. It’s a song about a woman who smokes in bed. The song does not relate a blessed thing about buying store bought goods for her children’s class parties, getting an occasional pedicure or preferring to go out for dinner. So ultimately, Mary and I don’t have all that much in common.

Wordless Wednesday: Big Fat Pouty Lens Mouth

momfluential — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 06:44:40 +0000

Yep, that’s me. I got a big ol’ lens for a mouth. Better to make you see things my way!

Waiting for Superman… Trailer Hits Home

momfluential — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 03:52:50 +0000

This trailer for the upcoming film Waiting for Superman, a documentary about the tragic state of the American education system, really struck a chord in me. Education is on my mind and the decisions I have to make are putting a lump in my throat. Dread, disappointment, failure, fear. These are the words I use to describe how I feel about the education I am providing for my children. The only education I can afford – a public one.

For my children, in our present district, there are truly no good public school options. There aren’t even so-so options. Overcrowding, corruption, budget cuts, political and religious agendas… The cracks are so big you could fit a whole subculture in there. It’s hard enough at our impacted elementary and middle schools for an average student. But it’s a disaster for a gifted student, or one with any sort of learning disability. Homeschooling terrifies me. I cannot afford the time off work. I don’t think I am qualified. But then I think about the alternatives and I am sick to my stomach.

Education was always something I took for granted. A basic right. A given. Not something we’d have to fight, and fight hard for. But here we are.

My options are bad but I know that for others, it’s even worse. My heart goes out. I fear for our children and I wonder how did we let this happen? How can we keep fooling ourselves into thinking what we are doing is acceptable?

There is a fictional Yiddish town where all the idiots lived. They call it “Chelm” which is a real town in Poland, but the tales told about Chelm by authors like Isaac Bashevis Singer and Sholom Aleichem are the stuff of fictional lore. There are a hundred stories about the citizens of Chelm and all their backwards ways. The one most notable characteristic of Chelmies was their complete confidence in themselves. Sound familiar?

Little did I know, when I chuckled at these tales as a child, that such a place would someday exist. And we’d all send our kids to school there.

Pokemon & the Kindness of Online Friends

momfluential — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 06:07:09 +0000

We share some of our biggest moments with our online friends. But still, sometimes there is that stigma. You’re talking about a pal and then your mom or your neighbor asks “How do you know her?” and you say “Oh… we met online! ” and start explaining.

I sort of met Jen Singer online, with a twist. Both she and I were contributors to author Beth Feldman’s (aka Rolemommy) book “See Mom Run”. But I was already a longtime fan of Jen’s common sense parenting advice books and videos and a fan of her MommaSaid site. I was thrilled to finally meet her (albeit briefly) in the flesh at BlogHer this summer.

Everyone knows that once you’ve met face to face, your online friends get to be IRL “In Real Life” friends. Right? It’s like the moment when Pinocchio becomes a real boy.

Last week I mentioned in a status update that my son was suddenly obsessed with Pokemon. I was feeling a little in over my head as my boy is late to the game, playing catch up with all his pals that have been collecting cards for the last couple of years. I lamented that I was never going to be able to keep up with it all and still make car payments.

Enter Jen. Jen’s son was done with some of his cards and Jen packaged them up and sent them in a random act of kindness that just melted us. I swear actual rainbows burst forth from my son’s eyes and unicorns came trotting out of his smile when he opened that package. I had to grab a camera and start shooting. Even his big sister was touched, and rushed over to help him organize the cards into his collection. His enthusiasm was that infectious.

I’m here to tell you that online friends are real. And Jen Singer is awesome. But if you’ve ever met her in real life, or read her site, you probably already knew that!

Off to Bloggy Boot Camp

momfluential — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 03:13:24 +0000

This weekend I’m in San Francisco, speaking at Bloggy Boot Camp. It was another road trip adventure getting here, but unlike my EVO conference road trip experience, I traveled without kids this time. Instead I hit the road in a “Schweet” Lexus LX, along with my pal Angry Julie. I’m reviewing the car, which is very family friendly but we just had to pretend there was a family in it with us because like I said after EVO – no more bringing the kiddos to conferences. Those kids fight in the back seat so much! We decided we’d stage a few slap fests but don’t worry… it all ended ok because Julie made sure to get separate french fry bags for each of us so there were no fights over stealing each other’s fries. Phew. It could have gotten ugly.

Since I’m working on last minute changes to my presentation on “Selling Your Site Without Selling Your Soul” I’ve posted a video tonight. It’s from the awesome Mama Kat (multiple versions) on the relevant topic of travel with kids. Enjoy!

6 Yrs Old: What He’s Into Now…

momfluential — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 16:55:00 +0000

Happy 6th Birthday Boyfluential! It’s been quite a year. You’ve grown and grown till I thought I’d have to raise the roof to keep you in the house. You’ve learned all kinds of things, made new friends, and challenged me to think and see the world in brand new ways. You’re always a source of love and sunshine, a bright spot in my day. Your inquisitive mind and friendly spirit are special, I don’t need others to tell me that – though they do all the time.

So what are you “into” now? Here’s a top ten list of your current faves.

1. Pokemon (let me just write a big check now…)

2. Kung Zhu Pets

3. Mario …. everything

4. Nature stuff – your affair with the great outdoors is still going strong

5. Loony Tunes, Scooby Doo etc… Thanks for bringing me back to my childhood with Netflix cartoons!

6. Neopolitan Ice Cream, Marshmallows, Blueberries, Hot Dogs & Dino Nuggets – we’re working on adding to this menu

7. Star Wars Shoes from Stride Rite

8. Talking Carl, Chuzzle, & Scoops (on my ipad)

9. Teeny Beanie Babies from Ty (still love em, after all this time)

10. Avatar, the Last Airbender Animated Series

The Back to School Haircut

momfluential — Tue, 17 Aug 2010 16:12:06 +0000

This probably hurt me way more than it hurt him. He has such lovely hair. But he was sick of people thinking he was a brawny little girl. And I do think it turned out quite well, after all.

And They’re Off… To Camp!

momfluential — Wed, 11 Aug 2010 19:33:42 +0000

My mother claims she didn’t cry at all when she sent me off to camp for the first time.

Well.

My girls left early this morning. A hot mess of shy and excited, nervous and anticipating. I thought I’d be fine but just watching them head off to what was surely going to be a great adventure… my eyes started to fill and the lump in my throat swelled to a size too large to swallow without a little gasp for air.

I went to camp all through my childhood, from the summer I turned 8. Long weeks in the Catskills playing jacks and volleyball and reading comic books. Canteen nights and dances. Color War. I can still remember the words of my team’s Color War anthem (set to “China Grove”): “Oh we’re talking about Seminole… woah oh! Oh wa oh! Let’s go Seminole!”

I have a million memories of camp and while I’m sure I loved to complain about the food and mosquitoes and bunk politics at the time (me being me, even at the age of eight) several decades later I remember it all with a fond haze and realize that those were some of the best times of my childhood.

And I’m just so happy my girls will get to experience a piece of that this summer. So hopeful all goes well. That they make friends, that they try new experiences, that they learn about themselves and painful as it is to say, that they do it all WITHOUT ME. Because of course that is a part of it. Being on your own, away from parents.

I probably won’t sleep for the whole time they are gone, with the wondering. It’s just cruel that they couldn’t bring cell phones.

PS: We used a TON of Mabel’s Labels on our all our camp gear. I’m so glad we were gifted labels by the company whom we’ve known and written about several times over the past few years. I had to pack up in a day and it honestly wouldn’t have been possible without the labels. I’m hopeful that some of the new clothes we bought might even come back with the kids.

Wordless Wednesday: Blogher & Family Taking a Bite

momfluential — Wed, 11 Aug 2010 14:32:48 +0000

Family, travel, work and Blogher 10 have taken a bite out of my life lately. Fortunately, there’s a cookie for that. Thanks to the Socialluxe Lounge for the custom cookies!