A friend of mine (let's call her "X"), with two young sons (7 & 2 yrs old), recently took in her elderly mother and helped take care of her during her final days. As you can imagine, this was hard on X and her family. 

Since X's mother passed, a neighbor and I were discussing delivering dinners to help X's family. During the conversation, the neighbor expressed that she "never would have allowed her children to see a loved one die like that." She felt that it would be too hard on her children.

These days I'm running on the life treadmill and I can't seem to turn the damn thing off, or even slow it to a comfortable pace. I'm racing from one thing to the next - work, appointments, school actitivities, after school activities, chores... the list goes on. I try to keep it all together but there are so many things that lie scattered on the road behind me, unfinished. I stay up too late, get up too early and still, another day is done before I turn around.

I never expected to be a city mom. I grew up in a very rural area, moved to a slightly less rural area, and reluctantly made an employment-related move to one of the biggest cities in the country. It was unexpected, exhilarating and now, as I negotiate the subways with two kids in tow, I have to add exhausting to that list of adjectives. Maybe put it right up there in first place on the list and drop the exhilarating altogether. At the end of the day, I'm just dog tired.

I try to keep it to a minimum, but I sure can feel sorry for myself at times. It doesn't help that there is next to no reason to do so and that I am mindful of this irritating tendency - sometimes I think that it is an innate quality that I can do little to damp down. (Sigh.) And to be frank, I did have a spell of irritating things happen all at once - my car was unusable for two weeks, the toilet broke, my sons and I discovered we had lice, and an unsavory relative began lurking around town.

And then my dad had a heart attack and my priorities immediately shifted. 

It starts innocently enough. My five year old daughter asks for a treat right before dinner. I calmly reply that dinner is coming shortly, and that a treat may be in her future if she eats her dinner. She says ok and moves on.

Not two minutes later, she asks for a snack again, and once again I tell her that dinner is coming.

"But I want a snack NOW!" she demands. To which I reply, "No, you will wait for dinner. Maybe you'd like a slice of apple while you wait?"

"I DON'T WANT AN APPLE I WANT A SNACK."

Yes, THAT The Artist's Way. You know the one. I did a group Artist's Way workshop almost a year ago now and it still resonates with me. However, once the structure of weekly meetings and reading assignments went away, so did my dedicated practice to the work Julia Cameron sets forth.

When I was young, my favorite season was summer: school was out, the weather was hot, and we could just play all day. Living in southern California meant easy bus journeys to the beach with friends from school and lots of lazing 'round and reading. 

Last month my husband and I paid off our remaining credit card debt. When he was sick with cancer, we racked up quite a bit in order to pay for the chemo co-pays and car services to and from all appointments (he was too sick to take the subway). That was four years ago and we have finally, finally paid it all off. 

Since S was born i have been working with a mantra that looks something like "my child is not mine, he is of me, but a separate being". Working with this is awfully difficult, despite my belief that it is key to both of us living healthy lives.

I grew up in the country and my family didn't exactly have extra money to throw around, so sending my sister and me to summer camp was completely out of the question. Sure, I read books, and I fantasized about going to a dude ranch like Annette Funicello in Sierra Summer. (Yes, this book pre-dates my childhood but we did get much of our reading material at tag sales.) Sadly, the closest I ever got was a few days at our local church's VBS. My parents were not at all religious, but I guess they just couldn't say no to a few days of free childcare. 

Even though I live in one of the largest cities in the country, I still like to indulge in what some might consider more rural pursuits. I home can all of my own jam and chutney (plus various pickled items). I knit 90% of our sweaters and winter accessories. I garden - as much as one can do with containers in a limited space. And I am seriously considering keeping several chickens in our tiny backyard. This is what I have always done and in the past friends have mainly viewed these activities as mildly interesting oddities, or a holdover from my (very) rural upbringing.

Not anymore.

A month ago I started working full time again. I was laid off in February and before getting the new job I freelance full time. After starting the new job, I needed to finish some lingering freelance projects and was feeling the stress of "burning the candle at both ends." Once I finished my last project I had visions of evening spent playing with my daughter before her bedtime, knitting, sewing, relaxing.

by Yogamom

Up until 2 weeks ago, we had no summer plans for S. He refused camps ALL of them. He has even rejected the idea of swim lessons. What the what? Okay, so an entire post could be written about do we or don't we insist on camps we know he would enjoy...why do we allow him to have this much say in the matter...everything isn't about negotiation, etc. etc...but alas this is not about THAT. Or is it about that he has agreed to 3 clay camps at amoa, laguna gloria and a bevvy of drop off playdates - this is a jump forward 3 or so years to sleep away camp.

This week, my husband had a lecture in the UK, which also happens to be where his family resides. We would have normally tagged along, but airfare is steep for a family of four, so he decided to just take our older son, Mr G.

That meant that D, my younger son, and I have been home without them this week. It also happened to be the last week of school--a 3-day week--so that meant plenty of time together without big brother and Daddy.

Though I tried to give D lots of treats, took him to see "Up", visited the water sprinkler park, and set up playdates, D still really missed his other half of the family. He often asked if we're going to pick up Mr G if we're going somewhere in the car, and one night in the supermarket, he cried, "I wanna go home and see Daddy and Mr G, and give them a hug."

Later in the week, he said that "Spoogee," our car, "misses Mr G and Daddy, but I don't miss Mr G and Daddy." Which I took to mean that he's adjusting to their absence, but I think we both can't wait till the other 1/2 of the family comes home in a few days.

Among the many bits of advice I've received as a mother, 'enjoy every second because it goes by so fast' rings most sage at this stage in my sons' development. I know this - How did this giant 6 year old replace the baby that I held in my arms seemingly yesterday? But in times of stress, when the boys are fighting and I just need 15 minutes to myself, I sometimes find myself rushing things in my head. 

by oneofhismoms




New York City has a strange phenomenon --  cut-throat competition for coveted spots at fancy private pre-schools.  I've always chuckled quietly to myself upon overhearing people obsessing about pre-school admissions.  I teach in a public school.  Though some public schools do deserve a bad rap, many of them, like the school in which I teach, are wonderful places -- places I wouldn't mind at all to send my child.  They're free, too.  I never thought I'd get crazy like that.  That is, until I tried to get my son into a public Pre-K class.

Today I experienced that rare and exotic treat: an afternoon to myself. It was a little overwhelming to be honest. What precipitated this event was the fact that I had a doctor's appointment in Manhattan and I had arranged for my daughter to go to a friend's house after school.

did you know that when a cat is euthanised their eyes dont close? they stay wide open for some time. it's kind of freaky if you aren't prepared for it. but i was, i've put down sabin, tofu and now enzo.

one of our cats died tuesday. i should clarify that by saying we put him down. the sadness is seemingly unbearable. it comes in waves. falling to sleep is the worse. when it is quiet there is nothing but time to think about enzo and the events that led us to his death. but this is a family show, right folks?

once we knew what we were going to do and that it was going to have to happen in short order, we made the decision to get S from school so he would have the opportunity to say goodbye (or not). when we arrived at school S was up at bat. he saw us and was happy to have us watch. he got his turn (a triple!) and then we called him over. we explained that we were there early to see if he wanted to come home and say goodbye to enzo, that as he knows enzo is sick and we are going to help him die. or i said something like that, im not sure of the details. i don't know if i can't recall what i said exactly because it was a pretty stressful moment for me or because i'd rather not think that i screwed that exchange up. i mean what do you say?! how do you not project all that you are going through?!

to my surprise S said yes, he wanted to come home and we assured him he'd go back to school shortly. he yelled to his mates "save my place!" and we got in the car.

on the way home we stopped at the bodega to get enzo a can of tuna and milk, his favorites. and of course S wanted a treat too. his was in the form of a tri-colored ice cream sandwich. i'm glad we made that stop cause when we got home enzo perked up at the sound of the tin can opening... and the fishy smell. but again, conflicted about not screwing this up for S, i wondered if it was bad to connect skipping out of school and getting ice cream with a pet's death. that modern parental angst never turns off does it?

S quickly forgot why we were home in the middle of the day so he went straight to his room to play.  we gently refocused the purpose of getting him from school mid-day and all sat in the living room with enzo. trying to stay as hands-off as possible we offered S to say anything to, or connect with enzo at this time. S shrugged. he looked a mix of confused, sad and being not all that interested. he was at a loss for words and began to squirm in his seat. we knew that was enough. he said goodbye to enzo from across the room as we walked to the car to return getting him back to the regularly scheduled program.

the rest of our afternoon was devastating. there is a mobile vet in town and she came to our house to euthanize enzo. we could determine if she was to administer the anesthetics and lethal cocktails over time or more quickly. and true to our personalities, D wanted the slow version, I wanted a quicker one. we ended up with the medium to slow. it was painfully slow, even D agreed, that it was emotionally harsh to draw it out for an hour or so. BUT in hind sight, the whole thing was very unthreatening for enzo, and intellectually i thought it a good experience to marinate in death a little bit. its never been this close to me. as i said, i've put other pets down in my lifetime, but it was more clinical and detached, at a vets office, or after a long drawn out illness where i had emotionally checked out months or weeks earlier.

back to the kid. at pick-up S and i went for a treat, this time for me. we sat silently enjoying each other's company and sugar delivery devices. on the ride home i asked him how he was doing without enzo. there was that shrug again. but then he added, i think that annick (enzo's sister, our other cat) is lucky. "all the love we had for enzo we can now give to her". and the next day, today, when i checked in with him he said "i dunno. i don't see him, so i don't miss him". thats sounds rough through my adult filter, but i can see with both comments, that in his child-like honesty is subtle wisdom.

that's S's first experience with death. and mine as a parent wanting to expose a pets death to my son in a healthy manner. all of that on top of my own mourning process. talk about multi-tasking. 

tonight, as D and i are getting a little distance on the past few day's events, we are better understanding what deciding to put our cat down means for us. we summed it up that enzo is not gone, our relationship with him has changed. that makes sense to us. and it's kind of beautiful. something i bet that would come out of a 6 y/os mouth. 

I was flipping through an issue of GQ Magazine (the one with Robert Pattinson on the cover) while getting my haircut, when I happened upon an article entitled, "The Unspeakable Choice by Wil S. Hylton." I was drawn in by the deck: "Last summer, the state of Nebraska made it legal to abandon a child. Then the children started flooding in--eleven a day at one point, from all over the country." According to the article, people were coming as far away as California and Florida to leave their children at "safe havens" in Nebraska, and that under the new law, they could not be prosecuted for doing so.

While created to protect young mothers from leaving newborns in dumpsters, these were not the parents who were taking advantage of this new law. It turned out that many of the children who were abandoned had mental illnesses, and that many of the parents saw this solution as the only way that their child might get help (because their insurance didn't cover treatment, or because they didn't have the means).

This article surprised me. Firstly, because I didn't know that it was ever OK to leave your children (Texas, where I reside, just happens to be another state that protects parents), and that so many parents were driving so far in order to do this. It made me wonder, of course, what type of parent would do such a thing. Sure, there have been times when I was so annoyed with my children, that the thought entered my mind, but I could never bring myself to actually do that. The article also made me ponder whether these parents were lazy and/or neglegent, or if this was their cry for help.

Well, this story would have to involve technology. My family, known for various intense and long-standing feuds of the traditional sort (not talking, avoiding certain streets/neighborhoods/restaurants on the off chance that the you-know-who of the moment may be there) has stepped it up a notch and is now embracing digital shunning. Yes, I am talking about Facebook.

This past week my daughter and I traveled up to MA to spend time with my parents. O lives to spend time with her Grammy and Poppy; she gets run of a whole house that has an upstairs and an upstairs (we live in a typical NY railroad apartment), a big backyard, and woods in which to explore. I love that O gets to spend so much time in the home where I was raised. The home that my grandfather built as a summer cottage. The house that was too cramped with my parents, two brothers and myself. The river down the embankment where I learned to clam, fish, and swim. It was, and is, a magical place at its core. But as with everything, things change.

She sees space and opportunity. I see age and decay. This past visit I noticed it even more: tiles needing replacement in the bathroom, dirt and cobwebs, crumbling cabinets, and a house just too big for two people.

The debate about overpraise is the meme in my circles, but does it mean you have to be an emotional scrooge and/or aloof? No! Here are some ways to say "good for you!" with out saying good for you, you know?

by Kris

I should be looking forward to this afternoon. My oldest son is being picked up from his Kindergarten class to go directly to a playdate with his best friend. She lives less than a block away from us and her sitter is fantastic - patient, kind, resourceful. I know that she can handle whatever comes along.

And boy do I fear that something will come along. And although you probably wouldn't guess it from meeting him for the first or even the second time, my son is a special needs child. Most of the time he is absolutely fine - engaging, intelligent and creative. Functional. But just when I am lulled into hoping that our problems may be lessening, it happens.

There's a new documentary chronicling the grueling process of preschool admissions in New York City: Nursery University. I'm guessing that "University" refers to the comparison to competitive college admissions, and the belief that the path to the coveted Ivy League schools begins at the exclusive nursery school. Which is why these parents are shown going to great lengths to secure a place for their children in these institutions.

Just watching the trailer makes me anxious. The recent baby boom means that there are many, many toddlers vying for the precious few spots in private pre-k. While I didn't encounter this when I lived in New York (luckily Mr G was painlessly accepted to a terrific school in Park Slope called Beansprouts), I did find this to be the case when I moved to Austin. In Texas, many moms put their babes on waiting lists when their child is in utero, hopefully timing it so that two years later, the child will be accepted. According to the film, niether expensive tuition nor the economic downturn is enough to deter folks from applying to these NY schools. On the contrary, the low odds seemed to make people more determined to get in.

I'm curious if you or anyone you know went through a similar challenging experience trying to get into a desirable nursery school.

by oneofhismoms

Oh honey, I'd love to play superhero with you, but right now mommy's too busy pushing peas through this strainer.  Not. 

Have I ever mentioned here that my son, S, isn't very forthcoming? He never has been, he isn't a chatty child, and that is especially apparent when in the company of strangers. 

by Kris

One of the biggest surprises I experienced after having children was the drastic expansion of my community. Sure, I 'lost' a few single friends who were unwilling (or disinterested) in adapting to my new diaper-centric lifestyle. But I gained oh so many more people in a world that literally shrank to a ten block square. (I could see Manhattan from my window but visited it about twice during the first year of my son's life.)

by oneofhismoms



I thought today I'd blog about sleep training.   How it sucks.  And how when the woman who gives you help with it has twins.  And when you have a friend with twins you realize that everything you do with your baby could have been twice as hard.  Or maybe I'd blog about  the two week wait advent calendar I invented.  How very proud I am of the idea, for my friends who are still TTC.  Then I had to go to a funeral today.  A funeral for a baby.  Then, I couldn't think of anything trivial.

In a few hours my son and husband leave town for a long weekend to visit my (out)laws. I have not had a weekend alone, in my home in many years. It was waaay before S was born, and even then, I truly cant recall the last time I was in my house for any substantial amount of time ALONE. And boy do I have BIG plans!

by Kris

Last year, way before I knew what truly horrible shape the economy was in, I started bypassing the type of exchange that centers on cold hard cash and began bartering for a couple of things. What skills do I have to trade, you may wonder (and I did too). Well, they're pretty darn basic - knitting and cooking - but they are standing me in good stead thus far. In fact, I am proud to say that I am now bartering for the following things:

As a parent, I'm hyper-aware that everything I do will influence my children, that everything action has a cause and effect. If I let the baby cry, will (s)he learn to self-soothe? If I only give them one dinner option, will they become less picky? If I do too much for them, will they become lazy?

This awareness makes me question every decision. For instance, should I keep them in public school, or put them in private school? Is it better for them to be in a diverse environment or to be challenged and engaged? Am I shortchanging them by not giving them the best education possible or will it be OK if I'm taking an active part in their learning?

I recall how upset I was when I wasn't able to afford my dream school because my parents hadn't saved any money for college, and wonder if my kids will resent me when they're older. I try not to obsess about things that are out of my control, but I can't help thinking about how much I was shaped by my own parents.

by oneofhismoms




No.  Not fancy Sex-in-the-City heels.  I'm talking orthotics.  $400 insoles.  How far from sexy can one woman fall?

per.mis.sive - adjective 1. habitually or characteristically accepting or tolerant of something, as social behavior or linguistic usage, that others might disapprove or forbid. 

by Kris

Because it is my best friend's 40th birthday and because there is a winter special on (buy 3 nights, get 2 free) I have arranged to spend five nights with her at a yoga retreat in the Berkshires. If you had asked me last week how I felt about it I would have said, "Excited!" But as the day of departure draws near, my forebodings increase. It's not the expense or the thought of treacherous winter travel that bothers me. And I always have a great time when my friend and I are together. In fact it's one of those rare relationships where we can be out of touch for months, even years and just pick up as if we had lunch on the previous day. The problem is that I have never been away from my two sons (ages 4 and 5) for that long before. Frankly, I'm scared.

We are just winding down a (for the most part) highly successful family vacation out on the West Coast. I say successful because if there ever was a situation that was ripe for disaster this was it: a shared household of 12 family members, complete with a nightly dinner rotation and an informal chore sharing structure. Oh, and 5 of those people are children ranging in age from 16 months to 16 years. And oh yeah, my two boys (aged 4 and 5) are "rambunctious." I guess that's the kind way to describe it.

Nope! This isn't a holiday bargain hunting and gathering tale, it is a story of my son's ecstatic reaction to his gifts this year. S is almost 6 now and this year it really sunk in. Not only completely embracing the power of Santa, Advent Calendar making and counting, tree decorating and cookie making BUT Chanukah rituals as well. Dreidel playing, singing the blessings while lighting the menorah and gathering with friends at home for an abundance of latkes and cheer.

by oneofhismoms

He's sitting there in an ocean of wrapping paper.  Pouting.  He's opened the big car and the pirate ship and the play dough ice cream station.  "And what else?"  He's looking for more.  You give him the line you've always given him, "That's a lot of presents, honey.  Aren't we lucky to have so many things?"  You know for sure somewhere, probably within miles of where your three-year-old pouts, there are children who would be completely content with only one of these toys.  How did this happen?  Where is the re-wind button?

It's this time of year when I'm hyper-aware of it. I'm contributing to my children's greed. I don't like it, yet I can't help myself. It's because I can, I guess. I can't suppress that desire to give them everything, but I also hate what they've become as a result: always expecting me to buy them treats and goodies and asking for them. My younger son threw a crying tantrum in the bookstore yesterday until my husband relented and bought him the book he was crying for.
Is there a support group for this?

Oh dear, the annual teachers' gift collection is not going well for my younger son's class. As a parent who spearheaded not one but two of said collections last year, I completely sympathize with the mom (Yes, it always seems to be a mom, doesn't it?) who is in charge of it this year. That said, I have a few pointers (some learned the hard way) for anyone who ever finds themselves in this somewhat stressful and largely thankless position. Believe me, heeding them will make your job a lot easier.

by Kris

I grew up in a very small town located in a rural state. There were twelve children in my Kindergarten class and at that time everyone in the town was up in arms over its unprecedented size (so large!). Starting in grade seven we were bussed over an hour to the nearest regional Middle School/ High School. But that only brought my class size up to about 80.

So it is no wonder that I am totally unprepared for negotiating my son's Kindergarten experience at our local city school.

It was inevitable, right? That we'd have a posting about Facebook? Have you discovered it yet? It's brilliant, actually, how you can get sucked into it reluctantly, and then get caught up in it as you collect more friends, as if that's the ticket to [Facebook] popularity. It's weird, incredible, fun, a time-sucker and the new way of relating to others. I like it and yet, am suspicious of it at the same time.

Does it not seem odd that I discovered that two of my friends were pregnant on Facebook?

Granted, these friends live in different states, and I don't see them regularly. That's what makes it terrific, that I can still have a connection with people that I love in different parts of the world, and it's easy to post and share photos, and have a casual exchange with them, but it sometimes makes me sad that it's not the real thing. I am reminded that I am not seeing my friends regularly, having playdates and seeing our kids grow together. But if it weren't for Facebook, I'd likely lose touch with them altogether.

Maybe because it's the fact that I work alone and don't have the benefit of an office environment, so in a way, it allows me to have that water-cooler connection with others. I can see what's on their mind and they can share news or events or links or whatever. It definitely got interesting this past election as well, as Facebook became a new newsboard. I even "dropped" a few FB friends whose political views were starting to get me rattled.

That leads me to the other great/not so great thing about it...that you can look up some old friends that you've lost touch with...a few dear friends have found me, and some not so dear friends. Often those one went to high school with and have painful memories of, or people whom you don't speak to because there is no reason to do so see that you're on a similar network and suddenly want to be your friend again. A few of my friends have actually fled FB because they didn't want to be hunted by their past...I have even contemplated whether I should have been more selective about who I wanted to have in my network...is that bad? I haven't made any real conclusions yet, because I am enjoying the community that it provides, which I think by far outweighs any minuses.

I originally set up my Facebook page for business purposes, but a few weeks in I started receiving 'friend requests' from people I hadn't spoken to or seen in 15 years. I have to say, it was so much fun reconnecting with many friends from high school, college and summer camp days. I had explained to my husband how much fun it was and since he wasn't technical, I set up his facebook page. That was 2 months ago.

by oneofhismoms




I guess when I was a baby, my mother watched soap operas.  Perhaps her mother before her spent most of her time doing the chores our dishwasher, washing machine and microwave do so easily for us now.  I have to admit, I spend my time at home while the baby naps, neither watching 'As the World Turns,' nor baking a cake from scratch.   I'm addicted to my invisible friends.

by Kris

Yes, I am typing this entry with one finger. So I estimate that it will take - oh, a good 30 minutes in order to give a simple piece of advice, something that I personally ignored and that got me into this difficult situation.

I know that it is hard for a busy mom to juggle everything. Certain things (laundry, picking up dry cleaning, visiting with friends) may get pushed to the back of the queue. But one thing I learned (again!) today is do not let your own personal health issues get shoved aside. When there is a problem, take care of it immediately.

every hear of this saying? its a buzz word around my son's school's approach to teaching. and i "get it", but usually when i mention it in mixed company, i get horrified and/or clueless stares. its worse when i've mentioned it on online parent communities, there things get aggressive. 

My youngest son D just turned three and is at that point where he's getting really chatty, in a surreal way. He's just getting the hang of how to get our attention by stringing words together, any words will do. Yesterday, my husband asked him about his day, and he said that he and George (a friend at pre-school) found a frog in the yard, and were pushing it with a stick. "Did it hop away?" my husband asked him. My son replied, "Yeah, and it said (he puts on a low, froggy voice,) "Thank you for the candy."

My husband was curious and asked the schoolteacher about frogs in the yard. She said there weren't any, but maybe D meant a lizard? There are lots of geckos around in Austin. I remember reading once that children often have hallucinations. I'm not sure it was a hallucination, but D shifts from subject to subject mid-sentence, using the word "because" to connect completely unconnected events and ideas, real, dreamed or fictional, so it's hard to follow him. Soon enough, he'll learn how to speak like his big brother, and the illogical rambling sentences will be forgotten. It reminds me that we always meant to write this stuff down.

by Kris


My sons attend Kindergarten and pre-K at the same public school and as Thanksgiving approaches both classes are gearing up for a non-denominational Harvest Feast. Turkey is being provided by the school, and all families are invited (strongly encouraged!) to contribute a side dish.

Not only are there requests for traditional foods such as mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie, there is also a call for dishes 'from your culture.' The more I thought about it, the more confused I became.

Drums to his own beat? Non-Conformist? Sullen? My son was never one of those babies who cooed when you smiled at him adoringly, rarely ever hammed it up for the camera. To the contrary, he has cultivated a pout when asked to "perform". And I can totally respect that. But would it hurt the kid to smile for posterity, on camera, just once, for Halloween?

by Kris

I know that it's almost a year away and that I shouldn't even think, let alone worry, about it yet. But I am already nervous about going back to a 'regular job.' I have been home for almost six years, and while taking care of a household and two rowdy boys demands much time, energy, and organization, I feel completely of out of touch with the world of offices, memos, and morning meetings - a world that I successfully (if not always happily) inhabited for many years before becoming a stay-at-home mom.

by oneofhismoms
momtourage.net

Case Study:  Max and Ruby Rabbit

A Mr. Bun E. Rabbit, his wife, Bonnie Rabbit and her mother, Granny Hare are being held on charges of child abandonment, exploitation of a minor, and child endangerment today, after a shocking discovery was made in the attic of Mrs. Hare.  A vault full of digital recordings of their children, Max and Ruby Rabbit, were found.  These recordings are being held as evidence in the case; they essentially prove that the two children in question had been left to survive without any parental presence for a number of years.

If you are a Hybrid Mom print subscriber you would have read in our Fall issue that I am expecting baby number 3, rather unexpectedly and unplanned! For those that aren't subscribers, I still want to hear from you. I need to know how each and every mom out there juggling 3 kids and EVERYTHING else we juggle - does it. We are all spread so thin and I had thought that I was as thin as I could be (of course not physically - but mentally)! I am amazed everyday from all of our Hybrid Mom readers that write in and tell us their stories and am inspired by them, which certainly helps fuel me and helps my thinning problem! I have another 18 weeks to go until this peanut comes out - please comment here and give me your uplifting words of wisdom. I need my momtourage now! THANKS!

When I had my second child, I was positive that it was going to be a girl. Or rather I was HOPING that it was going to be a girl. But I ended up having two boys. Though I've tried to blur the gender identities to some degree--let's face it, my sons would rather play with action figures instead of baby dolls, and are able to turn anything into a weapon, even a pillow. I often mourn the loss of my unborn girl, and think of the things I won't have the opportunity to do:

1. I won't get to buy the cute clothes with the beautiful stitching and embroidery.
2. I won't get to play dress up with her: try on frilly dresses and high heels, and experiment with make-up.
3. I won't be able to get manicures with her.
4. I won't get to decorate her room with flowers and butterflies.
5. I won't get to buy a doll at American Girl Place or take her to the cafe (I know it's cheesy, but still).
6. I won't be able to buy a tutu or knit her a poncho.
7. I won't get to play with dolls with her and have tea parties.
8. I won't get to braid or curl her hair.
9. I won't get to help her shop for a prom or wedding dress.
10. I won't be able to see her become a woman and have her own children one day.

I try to remind myself that I'm saving lots of money, that I'm spared of the excess of pink and purple, and the Princesses marketing blitz, and the worry that comes with adolescence. Somehow, I have to get excited about stripes (in boys' clothes), and work on my battling skills. And live vicariously through my friends' experiences with their girls.

(And the teacher!)

They've started again...the back-to-school commercials and sales and--what's that on the rack over there--Halloween costumes? Can summer vacation be over already? The real key to back-to-school success lies not with which pair of jeans you get for your child.  It is a bit more subtle than that. After eight years of experience teaching elementary school, I've decided to list a few small things (some obvious, some not) that can make a huge difference in the daily school life of a little kid:

• Before you buy a coat, make sure your child can zip it. 
• Eat breakfast.
• Fill lunch boxes with healthy food they can open by themselves.
• Help, but don't hover. Let your child do homework alone, with you in the room.  Help when they have questions. Look over it when they finish, but don't insist that everything be perfect. Many children get so much help from their parents, that they don't learn anything from the homework. They also don't feel like they can do things without a grown up sitting with them. And guess what? The teacher knows when you do the homework--especially projects. Giving your child a little independence gives them a sense of agency. 

i am so fortunate to have found wonderful yoga teachers here in austin. so a shout out is in order to mandy who teaches from the anusara lineage, she encourages me to open up to grace and to "loop" my kidneys of all things! she is an alignment fanatic, and thinks nothing of pulling up her yoga pants above her knees to illustrate what the thigh looks like in "outer spiral".angela is a flat-out goddess! a generous soul with abundance of information about yogic philosophy, anatomy, and how to apply them to our practice. her familial, un-intimidating manner results in packed classes that feel like private lessons. she focuses me to notice how postures feel from the inside out and keeps my ego in check by reminding me that my ability to get into parsva bakasana doesn't make me a good person.

When my first son was born, my childhood friend (and mother of two teen-aged daughters) came to stay with us for a week to help with our newborn. She spoiled us by cooking, cleaning, helping with the baby, and keeping us company. I didn't realize how much I relied on her until she left.

People had warned us that having a baby was hard work, but it's really impossible to know what it's like until one experiences it for oneself. I had always worked as my husband did, so it was strange to fall into these old-fashioned roles of homemaker and breadwinner. I found myself resenting the fact that he could still wake up and shower and go to work, while I stayed home with the baby. It wasn't an equal partnership anymore; I disliked having to do more household chores, but since I wasn't earning money, I felt that I had to contribute somehow. It was difficult for me to adjust to motherhood and caring for a newborn.

Many of the parenting guides that I had read pointed out that traditionally, women in a tribe or village helped each other raise the children in their community. We were fortunate to be living in a family-friendly village of Brooklyn, with several friends becoming parents around the same time. I don't know how I would have survived those early days without the friendship and support from my momtourage. There's nothing comparable to the camaraderie one shares with other parents. It has been a pleasure to watch our kids grow up together and become playmates, too.

A good friend once told me how she fantasized that one day we would all have kids, and they could all play together and be friends too. At the time, I never wanted kids, so I thought she was crazy. Twenty years later, with kids about the same age, I can appreciate her forethought.

Because being a mom can be isolating even if you live in the middle of the city, I formed a plan about two years ago  that involved using technology to combat mommy-loneliness. The idea was formed at a rare, adults only lunch with a  non-parent journalist friend.

Me: "Boy, this is nice, lunch out. no running after kids. I'm just sitting here in my chair eating."

Him: (looking at me like I'm sort of crazy) "Maybe you should do it more often."

Me: "Yeah, but I guess whenever my mom's in town I usually want to give the house a good clean."

Him: "Maybe you should join a writing group or something. At night."

Me: (laughing) "Oh, I'm way too tired by then."

And while I left the table for a short potty break, he devised a plan that I, technophobe that I was, should start a mommy-blog. And because I knew I was busy and a little lazy when I wasn't busy, that I should form that blog with some other mom friends so we could bounce ideas off of each other and share in the challenge of posting regularly. Hence momtourage.net was born.