Just....stop.

It just keeps going. Time, that is.   No stopping.  No frozen moments.  It just continues on, changing everything in its wake.   I used to be a young mom, juggling diapers, sippy cups and playdates.  Then, I was a soccer mom--lacing cleats, keeping score, planning celebratory pizza parties.  I was a camp mom...enduring the summer heat and less than favorable living conditions so I could share in the joy that is camp with my girls.  Then they got a little bigger, and when it was time to loosen the reins, just a little bit...overnight, it seemed, they slipped right out of my grasp.   They grew up.  

How did they change so much, when I still feel new at this?

My life before them, was really, just the time I would spend waiting for them. Longing to have a family of my own, to be "Mom".  I imagined I'd be perfect.   Always patient, kind, always ready with a band-aid, comforting words, homework help.  Dinner ready every night.   Laundry always washed and folded.  Patience never thin. I'd be a great role model, friend, yet firm disciplinarian.

On some days, I think I was pretty perfect.  On others...many others, I'm quite sure I fell short of perfection.  I gave in a little too much, lost patience a lot, and I'm not even going to mention the laundry.  It's just that I always thought there would be a tomorrow to try to get it right again.  But the tomorrow's are waning.  Hayley has already finished freshman year in college.  She has friends that I may never meet, a life I will never fully share, and a path that she needs to forge on her own.    And now Sydney is graduating high school.  And all over again, this weird mixture of pride, joy and dread at the inevitable chore of letting go, has taken hold.

In a little more than a week, both of my oldest girls will be headed to camp for the summer.  This time, as staff members.  And that's it.  They'll come home for a few days before they go off to college, but essentially our life with just one child at home starts in just a few days.  This is a brand new chapter.  

I hope I can give Addie the patience and perfection that often eluded me during her sisters' teenaged years.  I hope she will enjoy her next 6 years as an "only" child.  I pray my house is filled with love and joy and abundance.  That I remember to treasure every little milestone in her journey. That I won't forget that in the blink of an eye, this familiar dread will reappear and we will be waving goodbye to her as well.

In the meantime, I'll be holding back the tears for the next few weeks, as we watch Sydney reach this milestone.   It's bittersweet.  It's exciting.  And for me, it's the tomorrow I never realized would get here so quickly.

Abundance.

Today, I  am grateful.

I am newly employed!  So lucky to have a position with a company that allows me to make use of my creativity, gives me a flexible schedule, and if all goes well,  perhaps make a considerable contribution to my family.

I am balancing this new career with the needs of my family. School forms completed? Check!  School shoes purchased?  Check! Groceries? Check!  Dinner?  Already cooked, ready to go!  Bathrooms?  Well, maybe they could be cleaner...but...Check!

My work life in the recent past has been filled with positions that have been physically and (sometimes) mentally taxing.   So, upon my return home, there was very little left of me to share with my loved ones.  My current job, is certainly not physically difficult.  My worst complaint is that my index finger might get a little numb from over clicking the mouse, or my neck may get fatigued from sitting in one position, or at the very worst, I lose my voice from talking too much...(But then again, I always talk too much!)

I have more energy to share with those most important to me, and I am grateful.

Thanks to this newly discovered energy,  I am more aware of the abundance in my life, than I have been in years.  First of all, I'm writing again!  I didn't even realize how much I'd missed it.    And little things, like clean sheets, a refrigerator filled with food, a evening snuggle...I am beginning to recognize that these little moments need to be celebrated and appreciated, just as much as the big moments, like graduations and birthdays..

So today, on Yom Kippur, as we are think  about atonement and repentance, I am feeling reflective about  my past.

I am  guilty of spending to much time ruminating upon what I don't have instead  about what I do have.  If only I_________________. (had less wrinkles,  a bigger bank account, a smaller waistline, a more satisfying career, more closet space, less anxiety, more, well just ....fill in the blank). 

What a waste of  energy!.

Thankfully,  I am evolving.  I am putting into perspective what is really important. A  loving marriage.  Happy children.  Friends who care.  Family, whose arms are infinitely open and ready to catch us if we fall...Health, both mental and physical.  And, finally,  a sense of humor when one or more of  those things isn't going so well..  And boy...sometimes they really aren't!

But, I am blessed beyond measure.  I really am.  I know my husband knows that.  I pray my kids understand that.  And my hope for the coming year?  It is simply to remember these little blessings, the building blocks of my abundant life...and to appreciate them every single day...

Wished Away

Years ago, when the kids we're young I read a list, compiled by the wonderful Erma Bombeck, reflecting on all the things she might like to re-do, if she had the chance.

One in particular always stuck with me.

"Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle."

It wasn't the God, or the Miracle part that got to me (to be completely honest, I had no recollection whatsoever about that part), but it was the idea of "wishing" something away.

And boy have I done a ton of that.

I wished those early days of colic would end. They were terrible.

I wished she could sleep through the night, eat solid food, sit up unassisted, crawl, walk....

I wished she would get potty trained more quickly, so we could stop spending so much money on diapers.

I wished she would grow up and get along with her buddies instead of biting them and leaving teeth marks on their arms as a souvenir.

I wished she wouldn't cry and carry on every time I dropped her at preschool.

I wished she would get along nicely with her sisters.

I wished she wouldn't argue with me about tucking in her shirt, or which socks she was going to wear. I wished she would just listen once in a while.

I wished she would grow up more quickly.

And then one day, she was a teenager.

And then I stopped wishing she would grow up more quickly, and started wishing that the growing up would slow down.

I wished she didn't want to have her eyebrows waxed, her hair highlighted, or her belly button pierced.

I wished I didn't have to ask her to "make wise choices" every time I dropped her at a party.

I wished I didn't have to pick her up at midnight. Or one. Or two. Then, I wished that she didn't have a drivers license so I wouldn't have to wait up and worry until she got home.

And, finally, I wished that this moment wouldn't get here so fast.

Tomorrow morning, my Hayley, my oldest, leaves for college. She's ready, more than ready. The car is packed, her courses are picked, and she's said her goodbyes to all of her friends.

And I'm proud of her, excited for her, confident in her ability to find success in all of her endeavors. She's smart and kind and loyal and beautiful. She's sensitive and funny and energetic and determined. She's my pride. My joy.

I have only one problem.

I just wish we didn't have to say goodbye so soon.

Sigh.

Happily Ever After...Twenty Years and Counting

August 29th,1992...I was young. So young, I had no idea. I woke up to crystal clear skies, the first autumnal chill of the season and to the day I would become a Mrs. My concerns for that moment in time were few.  A) not being late to the beauty salon, and B) hoping that the hive that materialized  on my face that morning wasn't a zit.

I was a princess of a bride, decked out in a meringue of tulle and Alencon Lace. My hair meticulously teased and pinned into a loose bun, and my skin uncharacteristically bronzed from a six week stint at Sun Capsule. I was fairytale perfection.

My groom, my Prince Charming, was perfect, too. When he saw me for the first time for pictures prior to the ceremony, he fell to his knees and cried in my arms. He was dashingly handsome, described by my mother's cousin as "a romantic figure of a man". ..which, as silly as it sounds, made me feel like the luckiest girl on earth.

My mother dazzled us all, wearing a white, sparkling, beaded gown, blowing kisses and waving like Miss America as she walked down the aisle.

And my father, robust and handsome in his tuxedo, told me to "milk it" just before we took our first steps. We took the SLOWEST walk imaginable! As he handed me off to my groom, he gave Gregg a pat on the back that nearly knocked him over!

My sister, sporting an Ivana Trump hairdo, put on a brave face and endured a tough day as she watched her little sister take the first walk down the aisle. She stole the show at the reception toasting us, quoting "When You Wish Upon A Star"...telling us, how thrilled she was that we both wished upon the same star...

It was perfect. Even when the judge asked if Gregory Peter would like to take Jori Lil as his lawfully wedded wife...it was fairytale perfect.

Gregg's grandpa, though ill, (and he actually passed away only four days later) was there with us. We had friends fly in from California to be there. Our aunts and uncles, our cousins, our nieces, our friends...all with us to toast our perfectly promising future.

And we lived happily ever after.

It's been twenty years.

Twenty years!

Twenty. Freakin'. Years. How the hell did this HAPPEN?

Today, twenty years later, my cares are far deeper than a stray zit or a missed appointment. Twenty years later, my reality is watching my oldest daughter pack up her life and move 5 hours away from me. For the first time in 14 years, I will not have a child in elementary school, as my baby heads off to middle school. And my middle girl is a high school senior...they are all growing up much faster than I ever expected.

Nothing feels easy anymore. Being young thirty-somethings almost seems like playing house compared to these times. Jobs change. Friends come and go. Our parents and aunts and uncles are aging. WE are aging. Our medical issues are no longer about fertility or migraines, but cholesterol levels and degenerating discs. The house that seemed so empty and big when we moved in, is crammed with stuff we have spent twenty years accumulating. The laundry's never completely done, the bills keep getting worse and the cat box always needs attention. We worry. We agonize. We take small moments for granted. We even take each other for granted, now and then.

Happily ever after isn't always easy.

Guess what, though...IT'S OKAY! I can't help but still adore him. He actually makes my heart skip a beat every night when he comes home from work. He puts up with my baloney, I put up with his.

Is it perfect at this moment? Probably not. This year will go down as one of our most challenging ever. But looking back, it's been pretty great. And looking forward, well...I still believe in fairytales...

Here's to more happily ever afters...

With love and adoration...

As my daughter graduates...

There are a just a handful of future moments that a mom thinks about from the moment her baby is born.   Your first day of school, your wedding day and today...the day you graduate from high school.   I haven't been thinking too much about today...until today.  It's just been sitting there...on the horizon...I could see it in the distance, but chose not to dwell on it.  It just hurts a little too much.  This is the day that I will let go, just a little bit more...and I know that I have to, I just don't wanna.  I want to kick and scream and have a tantrum and wonder "HOW?"  How did this moment appear, much quicker than I expected?

You have made me proud every moment of every day.  Your determination.  Your energy.  Your drive.  Your intelligence.  Your loyalty.  Your creative spirit.  Your beauty.  You take my breath away.

One would think that I deserve a pat on the back raising this amazing young woman.  But, darling, I  can take no credit for who you are.  You are who you are in spite of me...you came into this world as a fiery and intense baby, and grew into a dynamic and accomplished young adult.

Life lessons to share?  I have plenty, but lately, I feel like I'm learning more from you....you have taught me so much: Be passionate. Be strong.  Be kind.  Be a good friend.  Be a good daughter.  Call your mom just because you want to say hello.  Snuggle.  Be kind to animals.  Love your sisters.  Learn.  Work hard.  Love deeply.  Laugh at everything.  Stay organized. Travel. Smile.  Care.   Don't take no for an answer. 

 So on this day, a day that I have been dreading for 18 years and 7 months...please know that I am bursting with pride...I love you.  Always.

Remembering Dr. Schuster....

(This is a note I signed in a memorial guestbook for Dr. Schuster, my favorite college professor)

In 1982, I was a college freshman, at Penn State, in Abington. I didn’t exactly set the world on fire in high school, and I came to college determined to turn around my questionable reputation as a student. My first day, I showed up in Dr. Schuster’s class. He was charming, charismatic and energetic. Our first assignment: a descriptive essay. I summoned up as many vocabulary words I remembered from high school, and painstakingly wrote a five-page essay, describing a day in my life. To my horror, he refused to grade the paper, and returned it to me with a note simply stating, “This isn’t what I asked for. You need to re-do this”.



Back to the drawing board.



I wrote the next essay, instead, from my heart. Nearly effortlessly, I wrote a descriptive essay about my dad. With my words, I painted a clear picture of my father. As I submitted my assignment, I held my breath, hoping that, this time, I’d gotten a little closer to what Dr. Schuster wanted.



Apparently I had. I got an A.



This was the first in a long line of A’s I would receive for that class. And with each assignment, I not only received the requisite grade, but also a commentary from him…explaining to me exactly what he loved about my writing.



I treasured those papers I’d written for him almost as much as I treasured his comments. They encouraged me, they challenged me but most of all they validated me.



Several years later, I ran into him. I was in my early 20’s, and just trying to figure out my life’s direction. As I told him my plans, he shook his head with disdain.



“I don’t care what you think you are. You are a writer.”



In my whole academic career, I had never been given a gift as great as what he gave me in that moment. Here was someone I respected deeply, and he believed in me!



I would love to conclude this note by telling you that I took his advice and became a successful author, or journalist…but, well…I didn’t. But I never forgot his words. And in a very big way, he encouraged me to trust my own artistic vision, to express myself and to create from the heart.



I am lucky, that in my life, I had one teacher who really made a difference. And for me, that teacher was Ed Schuster. I am just sorry that I never got the chance to tell him that myself.



My thoughts and prayers are with your family at this time, may his memory be a blessing.

Working Mommy

Yes, it's been 8 months or so since I last posted on this blog. Facebook and Twitter have proven to be an easier and more direct way to communicate. But really, who I am blogging for? An anonymous audience, my dear friends or for myself. Really, it's for myself. So, maybe I blog every day, more likely I blog once in a blue moon. But today I felt like writing. I needed to write. I'm not sure what I'll come up with, but that's okay too...


Well, I have have become a working mommy. Ever so much out of focus, and not capable of holding just one simple job...I have collected 4 part time jobs, that are keeping me super busy...and the most important job, 'mommy' blessedly remains.

Job #1 : Camp - Art Lady - Two Months a year of 24 hour a day intensity. Ten Months of preparation.
Job #2 : Pottery Lady - I actually got HIRED to work in a "Paint your own Pottery" studio. AND I LOVE IT...it's kind of like being the Camp Art Lady all year round.
Job #3: Digital Video Editor/Producer - sound crazy, right? Not really. Together with my co-movie producer from camp, we are embarking on a new venture. We make Bar/Bat Mitzvah Montages, Video Biographies and Video Portraits...we have a really exciting and challenging project already contracted for, and we are hoping that this little venture turns into a very big venture.
Job #4: Jewelry Designer - So, funny story...last November, a friend who is involved with my school's PTA asked if I wouldn't mind putting together a little something for a craft show they were holding at the elementary school. "Sure, whatevs" I replied. I made these cutesy little necklaces (and frankly sold them at rock bottom prices) and sold a veritable TON. (In fact, I think the other crafters were a little annoyed that day, because I was the only one that sold anything!) They were so well received, I started receiving phone calls from people wanting to buy more! I am now selling them at two local retail venues, I have another order to custom design another 150 necklaces for a fund raiser, and it feels like it's getting bigger than I could have possibly imagined. Fingers crossed.


So 5 days a week, I am officially working. I get home at night, and like any good working mom, I get dinner on the table, and prep for the next day to do it all over again. I'm working, working hard, but it's so much fun to be doing something other than laundry and grocery shopping, that it almost feels like I'm playing. I'm sure this will wear off. But I'm enjoying it for now!

So this is the hard part. I finally get "MOMMY GUILT". My girls are missing me. My husband is missing me. I'm not there after school, with a snack or a few word of encouragement. The laundry pile got EVEN bigger. It's hard to keep up with the housework.

Having two full fledged teenagers now, has made life even more mentally taxing. It has gotten so hard, that I almost laugh at my angst about raising a 13 year old.

This is hardly a well written post. This is hardly a meaningful post.

I'm living a chaotic life right now, and this post is pretty reflective of the tone of my current state.

The End.!