Because: A love letter to my children

When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts.  A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.  ~Sophia Loren

Because: A Love Letter to My Children

In the past year, my children, now in their late teens, began very seriously understanding their future potential. As their mother, I had always seen the gifts that lay deep inside them as individuals. I also saw the incredible strength they have together, as siblings so close in age. The joke in our household as always been: they are twins, just born two years apart. They each possess a powerful work ethic, an amazing sense of purpose  and a fully defined view of self. They also are endowed gifts that are the opposite of one another.  I respect their individuality. I love them fiercely. I am a Mama Wolf, and they are my cubs. I would do anything to protect them, to encourage them and to help them achieve their dreams. 

And yet, both children, at different times, have expressed a regret that I didn't "push" them more. As my son and daughter ventured out into the world without me, they saw the credentials that other kids have to be at the top of their 'pools'. My daughter wishes that I had not encouraged her to sail, swim, and work each summer. She has expressed a regret that she didn't, like so many kids, go to SAT camp the whole time. She now feels that she'd have gladly given up our Spring vacations to take AP exam cram session courses.

My son, however, feels he did just fine in school and is content with that piece of his life. He wishes, however, that I hadn't encouraged him to golf in the summers, and play soccer and baseball each Fall and Spring. He wishes that I'd enrolled him in intensive skating clinics and that he'd been tutored so that he could have spent as many waking moments as possible on the ice. He wishes that he hadn't wasted so much time with other activities...wondering where he'd be now in his hockey career if he'd had no other distractions.

My daughter is a wonderful student. My son is a fantastic hockey player. Perhaps they aren't exactly where they had envisioned themselves at this point. My daughter isn't yet the youngest woman to ever receive the Nobel Prize for Biology. My son hasn't yet been drafted to play Center for the Boston Bruins. They are working towards their goals, and I honor their ambitions. 

Therefore: this note is to them, my Sun and Moon.

Because I love you, I not only let you have mud fights, I brought out the hose. I let you get as dirty as you possibly could and never once worried about bringing dirt into the house.

Because I love you, I let you stage dramatic battles between G.I. Joe and Barbie, even if it meant finding tiny pieces of plastic ammunition for months afterwards.

Because I love you, I let you bring a bunny into the house without my consent...and promptly fell in love with her because you did.

Because I love you, my heart broke the first time yours did. I cried with you, both on the inside and on the out. I kept a prayer in my heart that you would continue to fall in love, and love would find you right back.

Because I love you, I cheered loudly at sporting events, even when I had no clue what was going on, or who was winning.

Because I love you, I let you wear your pajamas inside out the night before snow was predicted and then danced along with you when our district was announced for a snow day.

Because I love you, I snuggled with you and watched The Lion King (over and over) with you like on rainy days.

Because I love you, I let you just be kids...kids who built forts, who made sand castles, had sleepovers, roasted marshmallows. I wanted you to be kids who'd learn to water ski in summer and snow ski in winter. I let you camp in the back yard, build a tree house with your Daddy and made you picnic lunches to eat 'in the great outdoors'. 

Because I love you, I've encouraged you. I've subtly pushed you out of your comfort zones. You may not have noticed, but I love you enough to just helpfully spread your wings ever so slightly. And when it was time for you to fly? You just didn't realize your wings hadn't always been opened a bit...making the transition to fly that much smoother. 

Because I love you, I am not just encouraging you to continue on your journey. I'm encouraging you to soar.

Because I love you, I am confident that you gained strength from just being normal, happy, laughing, playing kids. And, now I'm confident that  you will be amazing adults. 

In fact, you are already are. And I love you.

Mother's Day advice from a Veteran Child Wrangler.

Any mother could perform the jobs of several air traffic controllers with ease. ~ Lisa Alther  


When I became a mother for the first time, in 1992, I approached this job as I would any other new challenge: I read every book ever written on the subject. I struggled to rationalize the Sears' attachment childrearing method with that of authors who believed that strict structure was fundamental to a smoothly running home. I read about the merits of cloth vs. disposable diapers, breastfeeding vs. bottle feeding and whether or not to return to work shortly after my son was born. I made sure that my baby's room was neither too dull (so as not to diminish his brain capacity) nor too overstimulating (so as not to overwhelm him). I tried incredibly hard to give myself a crash course in motherhood before my baby's birth. I did everything in my power to create a network of support, a plan of action for each eventuality and a determination to be the best mother ever. 


I failed. Nothing one reads about motherhood can prepare you for having a Lego stuck in your child's nose on Christmas Eve or for the times your dog stands in the middle of your dining room table, at your child's request,  to eat her vegetables.  What I did learn was that sometimes, to quote that infamous movie from the '80's, you just have to say "What the f***."  

Therefore, it's with a little humor, and a lot of experience over the past 19 years, that I can pass along a few tidbits for the modest edification for new mothers:

• It's pointless to write a birth plan. Don't bother. Babies don't have plans and neither do their births. Some will come so quickly that you will barely have time for the doctor to arrive in time to 'make the catch'. Others will hang onto your intestines rather than give up room service in a cozy spot. Trust me. I had one of each.
• Let your baby sleep in your bed if you want to...especially if you're so tired you are unsteady on your feet. Your son will be cozy, safe and happy snuggled up against you. He will not grow overly dependent on sleeping with you. He will not leave for college still snug in the family bed. If he does? It'll be his roommate's problem.
• When another person says, condescendingly, that it's time for your daughter to be weaned, potty trained, cleaning her own room, doing her own laundry or calculating algebraic equations, smile brightly and say "Thank you so much! That hadn't occurred to me!", while going blithely about your own business.
• Read to your child as much as possible. The days will come in which you will beg your son to read a comic, let alone a classic. So, when he asks you to read "Goodnight Moon" for the 300th time in four days, just smile and read. 
• Expose your children to many different kinds of foods as young as you can. Children who eat nothing but hot dogs and chicken nuggets grow up into adults who eat nothing but hot dogs and chicken nuggets. That being said, you will not be a bad mom if you throw hot dogs in the microwave on busy evenings.
• Allow your daughter to wear whatever she wants. The time will come in which she will want to dress identically to her peers and shop in the exact same stores. When she's 3, if she wants to wear her Barbie Ballerina costume for the other 364 days of the year, in addition to Halloween, let her. You'll just be getting your money's worth. Wearing red flowered tights, a purple paisley dress and pink summer sandals all at once (and in January) shows creativity.
• When your son tells you, in 5th grade, that he wants to be a NFL Quarterback, a rock star or a cowboy, encourage him. When he gets his first job mowing lawns, he'll understand the value of hard work for the rest of us.
• Kiss all boo-boo's, cuts, scrapes, aches and pains. It really does help.
• Macaroni necklaces really do go well with everything, including little black dresses. If someone makes a snarky comment to you about your fashion sense, act as if it's a tremendous compliment.
• Let your kids take all the pillows off the couch to build forts, obstacle courses and secret hideouts. 
• Sometimes eating the cookie dough together is much better than baking the cookies anyway.
• Become an expert cheerer through all Little League games, Pee Wee hockey games, ballet recitals and school plays. Your child won't remember your presence, but she will be note your absence. If it's important to him, it should be important to you.
• When your son's heart is broken the first time, let him cry and understand that his feelings are just as valid as they are for someone twice his age. Just because someone is 15, doesn't mean sorrow doesn't exist.
• "Because I said so" is a perfectly reasonable argument.
• Make picnics, go for hikes, swing in the hammock, catch fireflies and build sandcastles together. Summer is magical when you're small enough to believe those warm days will never end. 
• Additionally, make snowmen, put extra marshmallows in the hot chocolate and go through the trouble of dressing the kids in snowsuits on Snow Days from school. When the weatherman announces that your school district is closed for the day, do the happy dance along with your children.
• When another mother's children are melting down at the library, in the grocery store or in an airport, don't judge. There by the grace of God....and so on. Ask if you can help out, instead of making a face at her.
• Take your kids to Broadway to see a musical at least once. The same goes for museums and professional sports games. Let them experience the world as a much bigger place than their own little realm.
• When the worst happens...when there are more bills than there are dollars to pay them, when you find yourself very sick and are scared about what will happen to your kids, when you have to explain the concept of divorce, death, natural disaster, war or poverty, kiss your children on top of their heads and let them know that, no matter what, it will be okay. Kiss them again for good measure.

Above all, remember that there are no perfect mothers. We are all just trying to do the best we can. 

A series of moments...

Motherhood has a very humanizing effect. Everything gets reduced to essentials. ~Meryl Streep

From the moment I held my first baby doll, I knew I wanted to be a mother...and not just a mother: a "Mommy". I couldn't wait to have my own children. I wanted to push a baby carriage. I wanted to help make macaroni necklaces, push around Matchbox cars and cut out Play-doh with 'tools'. I wanted to read to stories to tiny people sitting in my lap. I wanted to be a 'room mother' for their classrooms, a Brownie Troop leader and a healer of scraped knees. I wanted to be the cookie baking mommy in the neighborhood. I wanted to be guardian angel, advocate, time keeper, feeder of tummies and bestower of hugs. I wanted to make sure that all would be right in my children's worlds. I saw our lives as a consistently unfolding series of moments, interwoven and unbreakable.

Yet, what I failed to realize is that the moments that weren't perfectly in keeping with my ideal vision are the ones that have made the most unanticipated impact on my life. I've learned to be grateful for the non-Hallmark moments. These less than stellar times of motherhood have taught me that being a mother is far more than just 'looking' the part. It has made me immeasurably thankful for the journey we've taken together. I have fallen short and failed so many times. But each experience has taught me not to be the mother of my dreams, but the real mother my children have needed in each stage of their lives:

• I'm thankful for the sleepless nights when I had a two-year-old and a newborn. Those were the days I questioned my sanity, my ability to parent and my very sense of reason. Every moment I was up with my toddler or baby gave me extra time to cherish the tiny sizes they were...and to understand they would never be this small again. I realize that, as sleep deprived as I was, my senses were heightened to their needs and I am overwhelmed that I was able to sneak in extra time of babyhood with them...even if it came at 2 AM.
• I'm thankful for quiet days spent curled up with both kids and reading aloud on the couch to them. I realize that I could have been cleaning my house, paying bills or doing something special for myself. However, watching their faces as the "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe" came alive within their imaginations was priceless. I'm thankful that, as exhausted as I was, hearing them say "One more chapter, Mama...PLEASE" with those two sets of big brown eyes melted my heart against any selfishness I may have felt.
• I'm thankful to have been an enthusiastic, if completely sports-illiterate, spectator at countless Little League games, gymnastics lessons, tennis matches, 5 am hockey practices and soccer tournaments. I'm thankful that I learned to keep extra blankets, Deep Woods Off, water bottles, snacks, first aid kits and camp chairs in the back of my car. Win or lose, close game or blow out, I'm honored to have been able to share in both victory and defeat with them. Dairy Queen to celebrate, or to comfort, will always be source of a laughter for me.
• I'm thankful to be the one my children came to for their broken hearts. I cried with them. I hugged them. I was there to try to give a mother's heart during those first experiences with dating. I wish I could have taken their pain onto myself. But, I feel blessed to have earned my children's trust enough for them to share with me.
• I'm thankful for the times my children said "You're the meanest Mom in the whole world" because it meant I'm not a pushover. I'm also thankful when they tell me they love me because I know those words aren't hollow, but truly meant. I'm thankful that I've had to say "Clean your room!", "Home by midnight!", "Finish the old milk before starting the new!" and "Be nice to your sister!" because it meant that I was able to actively parent my children.
• I'm thankful for our long car trips...even when I had to say "Nobody touch anyone ever again!" in response to "I'm not touching you!" taunts from the backseat. In between the construction of the Berlin Wall between them, I'm thankful for our wonderful conversations, our dancing and singing and our road trip games as we traveled. I'm thankful for both Josh and Caroline's 'adventurous' attitudes when we flew to new places, and their willingness to try new foods everywhere we went. I'm so proud of what good travelers they both are now.

Despite how much I wanted to be an ideal mother and to teach my children everything I could about the world around them, I'm exceptionally thankful not for the lessons I imparted, but for those I learned. My children have enlightened me in more ways than I can count. Motherhood is nothing like I imagined. It's far richer.

Cain and Abel...what's a mother to do?

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new. ~Rajneesh

In my theology course, we're slowly making our way through the Old Testament this term. Although many of the Biblical stories are familiar to me, I find that I'm reading these words with a new awareness. So much of the mythic qualities of the Bible tend to become "Jungized" in our minds; we lose track of the specifics of the tales and remember the archetypal symbols. As I read through the 4th chapter of Genesis, in preparation for my weekly presentation, I read Cain and Abel's story in a completely different way than I had as a child. I read the story with a mother's heart. That one brother would 'rise up and kill' another over petty jealousy is among a mother's worst nightmare.

At no point in the Genesis account of God's dealing with the first case of sibling rivalry is Eve mentioned. Eve, mother of both Cain and Abel, must have been heartbroken. One son lies dead, murdered by his own brother. The other brother is exiled from his home to go to "the Land of Nod" with only an ambiguous reference to a "mark" as protection. How did Eve handle this dramatic and devastating turn of events? What did Adam do? How do parents get over the loss of both of their children in one day? In the Biblical account, Adam and Eve are not featured players. Their only mention was by way of introduction in telling us who the boys' parents were. But, we know nothing about their parenting, if the boys had always argued over which sea to part or who received a bigger portion at dinner. The fact is, Cain and Abel are born....and because God shows favor to Abel, he is murdered. No serpent is needed to play the sly 'idea planter'. No rationale is given to us, other than Cain's jealousy. We are left in the dark about the boys' childhood, about the events leading up to our culture's first murder and to the family reaction. This would not make an easy case to be built on C.S.I. Too many of the details are missing.

Although she is not mentioned, other than having 'known' her husband and giving birth to a 'male child', Eve must have gone through an unimaginable time of loss. Because the Bible is based on oral tradition, having been told around nomadic campfires for millennia before it was written down, I can't help but be certain that the storytellers, who perpetuated this piece of the Genesis puzzle, were exclusively male. Every woman I know would want more details. There isn't a mother alive who would be willing to simply look at the larger picture, taking the life lessons from the story, and moving on, without wondering how Eve felt and what she did. I can only imagine her complete sense of disillusionment with God's Creation. Men may be able to gloss over these losses, but women need to cry, to talk through the situation and to ask themselves what they could have done differently. Eve must have felt like a failure: first, she gets her husband and herself kicked out of the Garden of Eden (her dream home), and then settling in the wilderness, gives birth to two boys, without an epidural or a baby shower. When the boys begin to fight, Eve has no idea what to do. There is no parenting support group. She doesn't have a mother to call to say "Ma, these boys are driving me crazy!". When the worst happens, and her life is torn apart yet again, it is difficult for me to imagine her turning to God for help. He seems to be done with her. What's Eve to do next?

Sibling rivalry is never easy for a parent. In my own case, it came as a complete shock to me. Because I'm an only child, I harbored fantasies about having siblings and how much fun it would be. I imagined that we would always play nicely together, and that there would always be someone to talk to. It never occurred to me that brothers and sisters would fight. Having two children almost exactly two years apart, I imagined my two being best friends forever. I thought about how they would go apple picking, go to the beach, go bike riding and even share books. I dreamed that they would call each other, as they got older, almost daily, and share a unique bond because they share my husband's and my DNA. Reality is different from fantasy, isn't it? While I am thankful that my children do not harbor the "Cain and Abel" syndrome of extreme sibling jealousy, I can say that there have been hostile words, shoving hands, nasty comments and death stares across the table. There have been car rides that turned into cage matches. There have been items chucked across the room that were never intended to be used as weapons. In short, life with siblings hasn't been perfect. Although they played well as young children, by the time they hit middle school, war had been declared and battle lines had been drawn. What my children failed to understand is that every harsh word, every time they excluded their brother or sister, each nasty action broke my heart just a little bit. They believe that their relationship is between them...and only them. They do not fathom that the way the treat each other reflects on how I've tried to mother them: to be loving, kind, generous and courageous. I did not raise them to be petty, snarky, vindictive or rude. In the words of Andy Warhol "I just want everybody to like everybody".

Interestingly, during our discussion on this topic in divinity class, I was the only student to wonder about Eve. I am also the only mother actively parenting two children. The majority of the discussion centered around motivation, weapons and the impact on civilization. These are all noble, fascinating and interesting topics of conversation. They're clearly more common than my own ponderings as to whether or not Eve used 'time out' with the boys or took away bird watching privileges. I wish I could meet Eve for coffee....in the years before the scene played out to its dire end. I wonder if she could have used a sympathetic ear, a mother's night out or some brainstorming strategies to get those boys to behave. I also wish I could pick her brain about being the mother of civilization as we know it. But, that might have to be a discussion for another time. In short, I wonder if Eve was as emotionally exhausted as most mothers are today. I wonder if she was surprised by Cain's vicious attack, or if she would have shook her head sadly and said, "I saw it coming, but there was nothing I could do."

Being a mother is challenging on the best of days. We love our children, and we want them to love each other. We hope that they will take the very best of the lessons we try to teach them and bring those out into the world. We do not expect them to behave like cranky, irresponsible, angry beasts. As we read any book, whether it's the Bible, or a popular piece of fiction, we read it with eyes that have come from experience. It's virtually impossible to separate our lives from our ways of interpretation. What is important to us in life will be the details we pick up the most on as we read. The Bible isn't any different in this sense: stories that speak to our hearts are the ones that resonate with us. As a mother of two, I found that my interpretation of Genesis 4 was radically different from that of my classmates. Perhaps that's one of the most fascinating aspects of education...what we bring into the classroom is what we can share with others.

While I'll never be able to encourage Eve to treat the boys evenly, and to build up their self-esteem in the ways in which each of her sons needed it most, I can relate to her 'untold' part of this story: that of a mother dealing with sibling rivalry. As my children have grown up, their conflicts are less pronounced and they even have fun together once again. I may still not like it when they bicker or pointedly ignore one another, but I do see an improvement that's come with maturity. I no longer have to referee the "I'm not touching you!" drama coming from the back seat of the car. But, I can still pray, encourage and hope for my son and daughter to establish a positive relationship as they get older.

At least, I won't have to pull over to the side of the road and seethe, "Nobody is ever to touch anybody again!".