Parenting Opinion Article for Wakefield Patch

How Will Today's Generation be Remembered?

I know I’m going to sound like that old fart who walked up hill to school both ways – in the snow – but I gotta say, I think most of today’s kids are pretty coddled.

I don’t remember things being like this when I was a kid. So… pampered. In contrast, I remember not always winning games. I remember not getting trophies when I wasn’t first, second or third. I remember having to fend for myself in socially awkward situations and defending myself to my teachers. I remember getting bad grades when I’d earned them – and keeping them because it was what I deserved. I remember competing, losing, and crying. I remember staying out in the neighborhood with my friends. After dark. Without adult supervision. And living to tell about it. I remember being put in my place regularly and not feeling entitled just because. I remember earning the good things that happened to me and accepting punishment for the bad things I did. I remember, you know, being a kid.

The generation of children we’re raising today won’t – for the most part – have many of those memories. As I see it, many of them are learning to live in a bubble, where they always win, stay clean and safe and have mommies and daddies that will fix anything that goes wrong. They’re learning that they’re entitled to nearly anything they want without having to put in the time and energy to earn it. They’re learning to be scared of the world that might hurt them. They’re learning that there are few consequences and if there are, someone else will take care of them. They’re learning that “participation trophies” are just as good as first place.

On the other hand, there are a lot of fundamental things they are not learning. I don’t see them learning to be independent, to get hurt, to heal, to communicate, to win properly, to show grace, to accept rejection, to fight their own battles, to be strong, to lose. It makes me sad that they’re missing out on those important lessons.

I know why these things aren’t being taught. They’re hard. And it hurts to see your kids learn these difficult lessons. Our job as parents – our most important job, really – is to keep our children safe. We all know what it’s like to “break up” with a best friend, to fail a test, to lose a game, to be under prepared and overly embarrassed. It sucks. Truly sucks. And we don’t want that for our kids. But by protecting them – however well-intentioned – we are crippling them and setting them up for inevitable heartache as the hurts get bigger and their tool boxes are woefully empty.

I want this generation of kids to be known for overcoming their well-meaning helicopter parents and for being independent, driven, creative and successful people. I hope they transcend the suffocation of lovingly over-protective mothers and fathers and follow their dreams, whatever they may be. In fact, I don’t just hope that happens; I expect it to. I just expect that it will take them a little longer to get to them since they’ll first have to achieve all of the dreams their parents have told them to have.

This generation of children has so much to offer and so many ways to express it. I want them to be known as the generation that kicked ass as soon as their parents stopped kissing it for them.

Motherly Advice for Mother's Day

This was written for Wakefield Patch in answer the the question: What's the best advice your mom ever gave you?

In the spirit of a child's poem for Mother's Day, I offer you this:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

I have a way better

Mother than you!

So there. :p

I can't credit my mom - or anyone, really - with any life changing moments or deep conversations that define the way I live my life. What I can do, however, is look back and see a lifetime's worth of love, security, advice and support. I remember my mom always being there for me. Always. And still. She is my best friend. A woman I adore,  who happens to be my mom. I am very lucky.

I don't rely on sage words of advice or nuggets of wisdom she passed along to me. I don't need to. It was all there in the day-to-day way she raised me and in the way she lived her life. She modeled the behavior that I would one day aspire to demonstrate, both as a mother and a woman.

With my mom in my corner, I can do anything, try anything. If I fall, I never fall alone. And when I succeed, she's my biggest cheerleader. Sometimes she's quiet about it. Sometimes she's loud about it. But she's always there, even when I don't know it. To me, that's much better than a kitschy line of advice. That's a lifetime of unwavering support and love.

There are tons of nuggets of advice - don't lie, listen to your heart, go for it, there's always time to break up - and I live by all of them. But the best thing my mom ever told me was that she loves me.

And I hope that's what my kids learn from me too. That I love them, no matter what. Always and forever. That even when they don't see me, I'm still there.

Wakefield Patch MomTalk Column: How Has Parenting Changed?

In the 7 years I have been a mom, I have seen changes in the world of mothering. I talked to my mom and mother-in-law to get some perspective on just how much mothering has changed in the last 37+ years that they have been mothers, given how much I’ve seen it change in just the last 7. I was surprised, impressed and depressed by their observations. And I agree with just about all of it.

Things are more complicated than they used to be.

Moms have more to worry about than they used to. From the pressure to be perfect moms, to the pressure to have perfect kids, to the pressure to be perfect women, to the pressure to have perfect homes, moms can’t catch a break. We also have more “threats” than our moms had to deal with. There was no Internet, FaceBook, texting/sexting. Hell, it wasn’t even dangerous to ride bikes without helmets, sleep in cribs coated in lead or take car rides in our mothers’ laps instead of safely strapped down in 5-point harnessed, memory-foam laden, indestructible car seats. While in some ways the knowledge that we have gained has clearly made life and parenting better and easier, in other ways, it’s just given us new things to be scared of.  Are there more pedophiles? Is kidnapping more common? Can you catch your death from the water in Lake Quannapowitt? I really don’t know. It sure seems like it though, doesn’t it? (Interestingly enough, stats show that crime rates in general are down, and crimes against children have declinedby about 50% since 1993.)

Kids also demand more than they used to. The amount of “stuff” in kids’ lives is overwhelming. And I don’t just mean material stuff. Moms are supposed to enroll their kids in every possible activity that will potentially enrich their children’s lives so they one day get in to Harvard – sports, cheering, karate, art, Spanish, origami, etc. They also must fight all of their kids’ battles and never allow their children to feel the pain of losing a game or ever get a bad grade that they have clearly earned. Kids can never be left alone outside, be exposed to germs, use the words “stupid” or “shut up,” think that they are better at something than their peers, or be honest with themselves that they don’t actually like everyone in their first grade class. Kids cannot experience the satisfaction of delayed gratification, be told “No” or “because I said so, that’s why.” They don’t have to “eat it because there are starving children in Africa” when they hate what is put on their dinner plates. Moms can’t let that stuff happen anymore. It just isn’t done. All of which, in my opinion, is total crap, and a huge disservice to our children.

Things are more complicated than they used to be. And some of it is our own fault.

Moms can’t be “just moms” anymore.

I thought it was just me, but I have to say, I was really happy to hear that these two wonderful and experienced mothers both saw the pressures that today’s moms are under. I don’t mean the pressures that we have created for ourselves with unfair expectations, but the pressures our culture and economy have put on all of us.  

Moms are part of the workforce – by choice and by necessity, bringing home the bacon and frying it up in the pan. Or at least they’re guiltily microwaving the pre-cooked, no-refrigeration-required-until-open kind of bacon they grabbed off the shelves at Market Basket at the end of the day after putting in 8 hours at the office, hitting the gym, attending a PTO meeting, followed by a therapist appointment and a guaranteed-to-last-10-days manicure, wishing they had stopped at Whole Foods for the soy-based organic “bacon” that they read about in some green-parenting guilt-inducing blog on their lunch hour.

Did you know that our moms didn’t do all that? Why do we?

Even moms who don’t work outside the home aren’t able to “just” be moms. They have to be PTO Presidents AND troop leaders AND bloggers AND wanna-be entrepreneurs AND marathoners AND activists AND serial volunteers AND more! Remember when our moms used to be waiting for us at the bus stop, excited to walk us home and hear about our day over fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookies and a glass of cold milk? OK, I don’t remember that at all, but I’m sure somebody does!

Don’t you wish you could do that sometimes? I do.

Dads have an active role in parenting.

Think of all the things dads were missing 37 years ago. No late night feedings. No diaper changes. No cleaning up puke at 3AM. I’ll bet dads thank their lucky stars every day that they get to experience all the glamour of parenting that their fathers never did!

But seriously, it’s not just the grunt work of parenting that dads now share. They have become true partners in the parenting team. According to my mother-in-law, moms used to be the primary parent – the one who provided most of the love, discipline, teaching… everything. Dads were relegated to be bread-winners. Today, dads are equal parents. They stay home with sick kids, pack lunches, kiss boo-boos, check homework, read bedtime stories, and get showered with their kids’ adoring hugs and kisses, as only moms did in the past. Today’s moms are lucky to have the support of our husbands that our mothers did not. My father likes to brag that he never changed a diaper. My husband thinks my father missed out. Times have changed, and I’m thankful for that.

Moms have more support than ever.

With all of the added pressures, I’m pleased to say that I think moms have more support than they ever have. When Hillary said it takes a village, she knew what she was talking about. Our moms didn’t have the benefit of society embracing that proverb. Being a mom can still be isolating and lonely. But today we have cell phones, FaceBook, therapists, husbands, organized play dates, moms’ groups, parenting blogs, email, preschool and professions that our mothers didn’t have. We have the power of the Internet to research our children’s health issues and can be armed with the knowledge we need to advocate for their proper care. We have the support of our immediate and virtual community to vent to, laugh with and share our tequila. We are not “just” moms and never will be again. We are a sisterhood of mothers, raising the future generation the best way we can.

I got the feeling that neither of the moms I talked to would really want to be moms in today’s world. They said they have a lot of respect for the work that we do, the way we do it, and the children we are raising. I was touched and honored to have both my mom and mother-in-law tell me that they both thought I was a good mom.

Apparently, there is one major thing that hasn’t changed: one of the best things you can get in life is a mom’s stamp of approval. Thanks, guys. It means more than you know, from one great mom to two much better ones

Happy Mother’s Day, Wakefield moms! Keep up the great work.

Wakefield Patch MomTalk Column: Mommy Bodies

Things I hate:

1)      Undies that don’t stay put

2)      Spinning rides

3)      Snotty people

4)      Standing in line

5)      Bathing suit shopping

So there you have it. Right up there in the top 5. Among the suckiest of all things that suck. Bathing suit shopping.

Every year I tell myself that this year is going to be the year that I can confidently walk in to the store, choose a 2-piece bathing suit, try it on in the glaring and unflattering lights of the dressing room, admire myself in the 3-way-mirrors and know that hot damn, I look gooooooood! Sadly, I’ve been saying this to myself every year since I was about 12. Now, at nearly 38, I am still saying it.

I sometimes look down at this body of mine and I simply don’t recognize it, like it couldn’t possibly be mine. Age, motherhood, lots of baking and too many carbs have not been kind. I can tell you that it looks and feels nothing like it did before I had two 8+ pound babies… and nursed them for 18 months… each. The only thing I recognize is my hair, of which – as I have mentioned previously – I am quite fond. Other than the hair though, it’s all gone downhill.

Or has it? I suppose that depends on how I look at it. And how I look at it depends on the day.

A few things that have changed for the worse are fairly obvious to anyone I encounter. I have bumps, wrinkles, dimples and bulges that I never used to have, mostly in places where they don’t belong. There are parts of me that sag lower than should be allowed. And I am no longer able to wear high heels for longer than about 45 minutes or I will be limping for days with achy ankles and knees. The fact is, I have gotten old and soft.

However, on the good days, I can see that in many ways I’ve improved and totally kick ass, if I do say so myself.  I am in better shape than I’ve ever been and able to do strenuous things with my body that I have never been able to do before. I am fit. I am strong. I am confident. I use my body in new ways regularly and am amazed at what it can do. Beyond pregnancy and childbirth, motherhood is a physical challenge and I have risen to that challenge and taken it to another level. I have set and achieved physical goals for myself that I never would have attempted before becoming a mother, even if I did have a much nicer body. On the good days, I feel damn good.

I try to remember those things when I look in the mirror, but it doesn’t always happen. I am not blind or delusional. I have work to do. I want to be a slimmer – and healthier – version of me for myself and for my kids. I especially want my daughter to see me eating right, exercising and loving my body. And I want that because I want her to feel the same way about herself. I will never be a size 4 without medical intervention involving removal of my hips and several ribs, but I can show her what a healthy and fit woman looks like. I don’t love my body right now, but I’m trying to fake it until I make it for my daughter’s sake, and my own.

I recently registered for a minitriathlon (quite a challenge as I am afraid to ride my bike and can’t swim all that well). I did it to conquer my fears, become stronger, shape up a bit more and show my daughter that her mom is one tough broad, no matter how flabby the tummy or how big the pants size. While I am a work in progress, I love what I can do with my mommy body and look forward to improving it and finding new and challenging ways to use it. I discovered my new mantra when I came across at-shirt  a few weeks. It says “Strong is the New Skinny.” Hell yeah, it is!

Wakefield Patch MomTalk Column: The Love/Hate Relationship of Parenting

There isn't a single thing I don't love about parenting. From the glamour to the ease to the loads of praise, it's all rewarding all the time. Why people bitch and moan about the struggles, I will never understand. How they can say that all of the hard work goes unnoticed, is a mystery. That laundry, arse wiping, doling out punishments, taxiing and homework checking isn't all razzle-dazzle is lost on me. C'mon! Think about it! How can you argue that it isn't all daisies and sunshine?

Anyone, parents or not, can clearly see that there is a lot not to like about being a parent. “Nights out” are now at TGI Fridays, Bertucci’s or the NinetyNine (especially the day after the Sox win when kids eat free). A movie date is usually an animated flick that one can only hope will be enjoyed on two levels. Road trips seem to include more bathroom stops than miles. Not good. Not good at all. However, those of us that are parents can clearly tell you how much there is to absolutely love about it. We all know the obvious stuff like unconditional love, an endless supply of Goldfish crackers and fruit snacks, and a ready excuse to act like a bozo and dance around in public when your favorite song comes on over the airwaves at Target. But the less obvious stuff is where the true love lies for me. (OK, maybe the “fruit snack benefit” is less obvious to others, but I love that stuff. Don’t be a hater.)

I love that I can see myself in my children. I don’t mean physically so much, because my blonde-haired, blue-eyed babies bear very little resemblance to me, but more the impact my parenting and personality has on them. I hear my words and intonation in their expression. I see my style in their communication and relationships (however not in their clothing choices, thankyouverymuch). I notice my likes in their preferences. My kids have a lot of me in there, but more impressively, they have a lot of them, mixed up with me, mixed up with what I have taught them. I love helping them become who they are and will one day be.

I love being the greatest sculptor of all, molding some of the most fabulous works of art this world has ever seen. Art enhances and adds beauty to every day life. That’s what my children do for me. Their smiles, their laughter, their hugs, and even their tantrums are extensions of my creation and influence. I love the masterpieces that they are.

I love that my heart lives outside my body and in my children. I send it to school every day and hope it comes back in one piece. I send it to basketball, to jujitsu, and on playdates and tuck it in to bed every night, hoping it sleeps peacefully with happy dreams. My capacity for emotion has tripled, with the addition of the feelings of two kids paired with my own overwhelming sensitivity. I am open to more pain than I ever thought possible, vulnerable all over again to playground drama, cliques and mean girls. But I also never knew the joy and love that the open heart of a mother could experience and I can never explain it. I love the depth of feeling I now know.

I love the daily abdominal workout I get from laughing at these ridiculous children I have produced. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t belt out a big, healthy, open-mouthed belly laugh. That rocks. Without trying, these kids amuse the snot out of me. I love the heck out of that.

I love how much I learn about myself every day through them and because of them. I didn’t know I was a baker, or a cake designer, or a coach, or a triathlete, or a fighter until I had kids. I didn’t even know I liked kids all that much until I had my own, and they had friends, and then I’d love a houseful of ‘em. I didn’t know I wouldn’t want to be “corporate girl” for long or that ruling the business world would have little to no appeal. I didn’t know I’d choose a job that doesn’t pay or that that job of being a mom would be my favorite. I love that I know me a little better every day.

And while all these things are definitely worthy of love, the thing I love most about being a mom is that I have something bigger than myself to be strong for, to get up for, to be better for. There is more than just me and my silly old stuff. On those dark days where I don’t want to get out of bed, I suck it up and put on a brave face (and plenty of under-eye concealer.) Instead of bending and cracking to pain and pressure, I find the strength and kick the crap out of my problems. When I consider sacrificing my standards and calling it “good enough,” I think about my kids and I recommit, try harder and knock it out of the park. For as much as I give them, they give me so much more. I love them more than they will ever understand.

Wakefield Patch MomTalk Column: Kids' Fashion

My daughter was such an easy baby. Laid-back, happy-go-lucky, flexible… I should have seen the warning signs! By the time she was 22 months, she was refusing – and I mean refusing – to wear jeans. There was no way I was getting those things on her body. And if I did manage to get them on her, swearing and sweating during the entire battle of wills and emotional endurance, she would demonstrate a level of manual dexterity rarely seen in toddlers, expertly unbuttoning, unzipping and removing the pants at mach speed. Eventually, I gave up on the jeans.

Her fashion rules have gotten more and more restrictive as she’s gotten older and more articulate, and continue to dictate her wardrobe at age 7, even despite the clothing choices of her fashion-forward friends. Jersey-knit only. No buttons, not even decorative. No long cuffs. No tights. No puffy sleeves. No sewn-on embellishments. No over-sized iron-ons. No empire waist. No strappy tanks. No lace, ribbons or frills. No seams across socks. No dress shoes. No cutesy sayings. No brand names. No leggings. No skirts without built-in shorts. And the list goes on. While she can give a valid (to her) excuse for why she won’t wear these things, I challenge you to find 4 seasons worth of school-appropriate clothing.

I firmly believe in choosing my battles when it comes to parenting, and I learned long ago that the “general appearance battle” is one that I don’t pick. Therefore, I am an expert on looking the other way when my kids get dressed. When they come down from their rooms dressed for school, I brace myself. I have learned that I can only make suggestions on what might match. I’m only their mother. I don’t actually know what I’m talking about.

My only rule is that they are dressed in a generally seasonally appropriate manner. Or that they accept the consequences of their decisions. I do not force them to wear jackets in the winter, nor do I force them to wear shorts in the summer. After all, it’s not my body. As I tell them, I am not at all uncomfortable when they are hot/cold. I advise, but do not dictate. Eventually they learn mommy isn’t always so dumb.

As the kids age, the battles over fashion will change. I tend to think that stuff is fleeting and not worth the fight. Clothing, makeup, hair – it is all impermanent. I will offer my opinion and my advice when asked, and I fully expect it to be disregarded.

The permanent stuff like piercings and tattoos, well, that’s a whole ’nother ball o’ wax. When I went to college and got a 4^th earring in my left ear, I remember my mother making me promise that I wouldn’t do anything to my face. I thought that was such an odd request. But now I get it. I will make the same rule in my house: nothing on the face.

And while I don’t have anything against tattoos (note: I am ink-free, myself), I do think they are something only adults should get. That thing will be on you forever. Even when you’re 93. Once my 5 year old boy asked me to get a spider web tattoo radiating from my elbow, because, you know, it’s cool. When I asked him what he would think if Oma, his great grandmother, had one, he thought it would be pretty silly. I told him I would be like Oma one day and still have a spider web on my arm. He decided that maybe I shouldn’t get one after all. Point made.

Personal appearance is part of personal expression. Kids will be kids. Fashions will change. I went through my fluorescent phase in the 80s. I had huge hair and claw bangs in junior high and high school. I wore ripped jeans and flannel in the grunge days of the 90s. Last year I got hot pink highlights in my hair. And this fall I wore jeggings.

My mom probably bit her tongue through each and every one of those phases. If she’d said something, I probably would have ignored her. I mean, what does she know anyway? She’s just my mom.

Wakefield Patch MomTalk Column: About Me

I am a mother, woman, wife, volunteer, daughter, coach, writer, marketer, entrepreneur, friend, baker, procrastinator, Daisy Scout troop leader, risk taker, room parent, nanny, athlete, over-achiever, trouble-maker, chauffeur, neighbor, sister, competitor and lunatic. I am confident, bold, self-conscious, independent, scared, fashionable, out-spoken, understanding, dorky, funny, inappropriate, shy, flabby, strong, critical, inquisitive, accepting, loving, generous, reserved and confused. And I have good hair.

I’m every woman. It’s all in me!

I was born in Tacoma, WA and grew up in Nazareth, PA in a supportive family with strong and loving parents and a kick-ass older sister. I graduated from Syracuse University with a BS in Advertising and a BS in Marketing and took a job in insurance, which had absolutely nothing to do with anything I had ever done or had any interest in. The job transferred me to Hartford and eventually to the Boston area in 1997 where I immediately left insurance, later met my husband and put down roots to raise a family. We moved to Wakefield in 2005 and have become fully entrenched in the community. I love it in this crazy little town!

Make no mistake. I have absolutely no business giving anyone parenting advice. I do most things wrong. But, my kids are miraculously happy, well-mannered and seemingly productive members of society for 5- and 7-year-olds. (As an aside, I recently listened to a brief interview with Bryan Caplan, who wrote Selfish Reasons to Have More Kids, a book detailing that “upbringing is much less important than genetics in the long run.” Interesting stance! Take that, Tiger Mom!)

As I have explained in a previous post, I am a working mom, attempting to strike the perfect balance of being mommy and being me. I work part-time from home as an Internet Marketing Manager for a company based in Pennsylvania. When I’m not doing that, I am perfecting my cake baking and cupcake making skills, preparing to dominate the world and cover it in buttercream. And when I’m not doing either of those things, I’m hanging out with my husband and kids, volunteering for various school and town committees, exercising and obsessively checking email. The two things I am generally NOT doing are sleeping or cleaning my house. You know, something’s gotta give!

Since I’m revealing so much fascinating information about myself, here are some things few people know about me:

• I have walked on hot coals.
• I have been in two fist fights.
• I cry easily.
• I have always wanted to be a hairdresser.
• I would give a kidney – or give up tequila – to never have to do laundry again.
• Until I had children and all pride went out the window, I would lip sync “Happy Birthday” because my singing voice is so terrible.
• I wanna be a billionaire so freakin’ bad.
• In a former life I was a Mary Kay Consultant.
• I have more ideas than three lifetimes would ever allow me to act upon.
• My parents are two of my best friends.

I try not to take myself – or life – too seriously. I attempt to live without looking back, doing the best that I can without second-guessing my decisions. I apply this philosophy to parenting as much as possible, but there are nights when I replay the day and wish I’d done it differently. I remind myself that dwelling doesn’t help and that I’ll just do better tomorrow. Every day is a new day to try again, and I attempt to do that regularly. I hope to pass this on to my kids. Life is hard enough without beating yourself up about it.

I have thoroughly enjoyed the experience of writing for Wakefield Patch. It’s given me an opportunity to think, create, communicate, (hopefully) entertain and solidify my own opinions on various topics. I thank you all for reading, and hope you continue to do so!