Category Archives: Parenting

Single mom, sexuality, dating, two-year-olds, infidelity, divorce

Multi-tasking + Stress = American Way

Posted on April 13, 2013 | Leave a comment

mindfulnessbell

Is Mindfulness Realistic?

Is a mindful way of life actually possible for most of us—especially those in the business world? Can we really achieve mindfulness in today’s American society? Think about it. We are obsessed with multi-tasking and our devices that let us ‘stay on’ 24/7. On top of that, we keep pilling more onto our schedules (since, of course, we can handle more at one time now). Combine that with extra pressure and longer hours at work (See ABC News’ “Americans Work More Than Anyone”) and more stress with shortened fuses on the road and there you have it: a cocktail that completely erodes your 15 minutes of mindfulness meditation. Or so it would seem to me.

But maybe I’ve got it all wrong? I’d love some input from any of you out there as I’m at a complete loss. Unless I’m in the jungle (where I found myself a week ago!) or on an island without wifi and electricity, I doubt that I can stop my multi-tasking addiction—and I’m just a mere freelance writer and mom. How the hell do executives learn how to put the devices down and connect fully with loved ones when the work day just never seems to end?

I must admit that I’m a bit surprised by my skepticism as I’m the perfect candidate and proponent for mindfulness. I’m a yoga enthusiast and Deepak Chopra lover. Yet, I look around me—especially when at a business conference or with other journalists on deadline—and I wonder HOW can we be more mindful when stretched to the limits with multiple demands—sometimes needing to be met simultaneously.

A few months ago, I interviewed Janice Marturano, founder of The Institute for Mindful Leadership, who left the corporate world behind in order to consult executives on how to become more mindful. In our interview entitled “If Mindfulness can Transform CEOS … Imagine How It Can Help You?!” Janice explained how she works with executives and managers to help them slow down and focus on what’s in front of them. She does this through teaching them how to meditate, ideally, 3 times a day. At the time of our interview, after also seeing how much she helped my brother, I was a huge supporter. I still am a huge supporter of what she is doing. Now that my toes are back in the business world, however, I’m getting a taste of the stress and the “pressure to be on” and I see how hard it is to be mindful in this environment. If you’ve ever been to a board meeting or in the audience of a keynote speaker at a conference, than I don’t need to tell you about the hundreds of blackberries and iphones in the laps of attendees who are multi-tasking by texting, emailing, or reading assignments. CEOs of the household are just as easily distracted. Go to a park or library, and likely you’ll see a mom or dad glued to his/her iphone while the kiddos are on their own. Again, it’s the American Way.

And I write this with a bit of irony. I’ve been away from NavigatingVita for a month. During that time, I’ve juggled business writing and children’s schedules and illnesses—while stressing out about both. Somehow I managed to catapult myself away for a week to the southern most jungle of Costa Rica. While there, even though I had access to wifi at a main eco-lodge, I decided to cut the phone off. I left instructions to call a friend if there was an emergency with the kiddos and decided to brave being on my own without emails, texts, calls. (I was only away for a week, I could handle it right?.) At first, when watching some friends upload pictures on Facebook, or get basketball scores during our communal dinners at the lodge with wifi, I got a twinge of jealousy. After a few days of device detox, however, I found myself more engaged in my world than I have been in a long time. I held my attention and listened deeply when others talked. I looked around me—all the time.  Of course, being in the jungle, demands mindful attention to avoid scorpions, lizards or crabs on your path. But when I looked up, I’d sometimes see monkeys swinging, blue butterflies, parrots, wild orchids and iguanas in the trees. I found myself looking around with wonder. I no longer wanted to check email or basketball scores. Twice during the week, I went back up to the eco-lodge with wifi and called my boys via skype to check in. I never turned on my phone, I used a friend’s computer. That was my only “connection” with the outside world. I lived. I thrived. I thought I was cured of my addiction. How wrong I was.

Before I left for Costa Rica, I read two New York Times articles that I cut out to interview experts about for Navigating Vita. They touched a chord when reading them three weeks ago, and my time in the jungle re-inforced their importance. The first by Barbara L. Fredrickson is called Your Phone Vs. Your Heart. It shows, clearly, how children suffer from a lack of eye contact when parents are constantly looking at their phones and not paying attention. The second, is by Alina Tugend: In Mindfulness, a Method to Sharpen Focus and Open Minds, where Alina spends time with experts, including Janice Marturano, to learn how to meditate.

What I thought about both articles, before I left for Costa Rica, pales in comparison to what I’ve learned upon my return. In Costa Rica, an environment that encourages mindful awareness and making appointments with wifi locations to communicate, I let go of my phone addiction. Sure, I was on vacation, but even when I’m not working, I usually tend to over-check the phone. I embraced being in the moment and made a silent vow to write this blog post as one that showed my success at tackling this distracted addiction of mine that most in Americans share. Well, I came back with multiple stories due, meetings to attend, taxes, sick boys, etc. And I found that being back in my old environment with multiple demands, I instantly fell back to my old habits. Sure, I still tried to meditate every day, and managed to squeeze in yoga twice, but it didn’t stop me from texting or calling someone while in the car. I raced back and forth from appointments or kids school or sport functions—all the time clinging to my phone, in case as a client or colleague or even a friend needed to reach me. Just doing that, made me think about those possible needs, instead of listening to my children. I’d worry about an assignment and say, “Sure,” or “Ahuh” absently to something that my four-year-old said.

Who suffers from this sort of distraction? Me. And my boys. I remember when interviewing Janice, that she advised me to turn off my racing mind and actually enjoy the moment—whatever moment—I found myself in. So instead of bringing my business meeting into my shower or my car ride, I need to shut off, and enjoy the ride with the kiddos or the warm water of the shower. By not stressing about all the ins and outs, and being more present, we can all be more productive later. Think about the manager who actually cuts off the phone and listens intently during a meeting, verses the manager who keeps looking at his blackberry or the clock when you’re talking.

I get it. I’m just not living it during times of pressure. Maybe there’s an app for that? :-) I know … But seriously. Maybe during my most hectic points of the day, I could set a mindfulness alarm on my phone. “Time to be mindful, Laura” could go off when I’m typically in the car with my boys, for instance.  Or maybe: “This is your mindfulness moment. Turn off the phone” could go off just before dinner, bath and books time in the evening, so I can give my boys my undivided attention.

Just an idea. Have any others? Clearly, I could use the help!

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Posted in Health/Wellbeing, Parenting, Working Single Moms

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Pushing Our Kids = Sport Injuries

Posted on March 13, 2013 | Leave a comment

pitcher

This week I’m finishing up an article for a Los Angeles healthcare magazine about youth sport injuries. When I first started this article, I had no idea that it would haunt me as much as the articles I wrote earlier this year on stressed out kids and childhood diabetes. There seems to be an invisible link fueling these three varying topics and intuitively it has to be our American culture. We are a society stewing in a pressure cooker of stress: too many obligations, long work hours, financial strain and the need to succeed. Of course our children feel this pressure cooker environment every bit as much as we do—perhaps more so. And they are navigating through it as best they can.

Since it’s no longer safe for kids to ride bikes freely or play in their hood like we did as children, there’s no wonder that organized sport has taken off. But when more than 35 million kids under 14 years of age are undergoing surgery or other medical treatments for sport injuries—we need to take a step back. (BTW, that statistic is from a 14-year-old study—so likely the number is even higher.)

This week I listened to two well-known orthopedic surgeons in Los Angeles explain to me the type of injuries they treat in patients as young as 8. Can you imagine ACL surgery at 8? But think about it, some children start group sports or club sports as early as 5 or 6. I learned an interesting tidbit from one physician who works with elite athletes…that baseball scouts aren’t as interested in signing pitchers from California anymore. Want to know why? Because Californians are known to work out longer and harder year-round. Our athletic culture, mixed with coaches and parents who like to take advantage of the year-round nice weather, creates exhausted and injured teenagers.

When a pitcher doesn’t get a break to rest—especially those who have been playing since elementary school—they will likely have sustained some serious injuries by the time they are 18. Even professional athletes take a few months off each season. Our children with growing bones and muscles—who may or may not have entered puberty—need time off to rest.  (And kiddos who start throwing curve balls early, or who just pitch too often, find themselves injured in middle school. See This New York Times article on the topic.)

As I mentioned, part of the problem is that young children are still growing and they all differ on timing of puberty. One child’s physique at 14 may be much different than another’s. Obviously, that means that not all kids under 14 can be expected to do 100 push ups at a practice—or whatever benchmarks certain coaches have. Physicians emphasize, however, that it’s not varying from routine in sports that can create ACL injury and even alter bone growth in children’s hips. It’s just not safe on ligaments and muscles and bones when repetitive motions are done year-round.

So the kid that focusses on one sport early on and joins a club team that doesn’t allow for proper breaks year-round, will likely sustain “overuse” injuries. This kid who loves the game, and whose parents may have fostered hopes for scholarships, might actually not be as competitive in high school as the child who only played six months a year, took breaks, and enjoyed a variety of sports.

It makes sense. Physicians whose studies show pediatric overuse injuries rising, have helped organized sport organizations create limits: such as a baseball pitching limit per season.

According to a New York Times article on the topic, Little League has established pitch count limits per game and recommended days of rest for pitchers ages 9 to 18. The United States Cycling Federation has imposed gear-ratio limits for riders ages 10 to 16. U.S.A. Swimming recommends the number and length of weekly sessions for various ages of competitive swimmers.

Youth soccer fields are now smaller and baseball bases put closer together for youth games.

While these are advancements—they don’t really change the culture do they? Look at the picture I posted with this story. It’s of a very small child, trying to throw a curve ball. It was posted on Flickr by his parent bragging about the kid’s moxie. I found hundreds of pics of little kids throwing curve balls with posts underneath them from grandparents or parents all saying things like: “That’s my boy!”

Dancers and gymnasts put in grueling hours and sometimes starve themselves to meet their coaches favor. We all know stories about kids who work hard to become Olympic hopefuls or college athletes. It’s encouraged by parents. And while I’m a huge proponent of getting kids in team sports and off the couch—pushing to the extreme is not a good option. Early injuries lead to earlier bouts of arthritis. Shouldn’t we just get back to the basics and have fun? Don’t we want to foster a lifestyle that embraces a lifetime of athleticism and healthy choices? And is it just me, but wouldn’t it be nice to bring back family dinner for at least two weeknight evenings instead of racing from practices to games and ordering in fast food? Seriously, how well are we really teaching our children to take care of their bodies?

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Finding Strength, Keeping Kindness

Posted on March 4, 2013 | Leave a comment
BagnoVignonitoes

Photo by: Laura Roe Stevens

I’ve come to realize that I’m learning so many lessons during this painful four year journey as a single mom navigating divorce. I know so many of you can relate to what I’m going through, sadly. While I don’t want to talk about the particulars of my roller-coaster ride,  (which is a long story) I can tell you ,that even when I’m incredibly down, something inside me has started to shift. Maybe it’s the wonderful life/spiritual coach I had last year. Maybe it’s my yoga. Maybe it’s the meditation. Likely, it’s all three. But I’m *finally* realizing that I have needs and they need to be recognized and respected in order for me to ever garner any respect from anyone else. While I’ve said this before, it’s slowly starting to sink in that always putting someone else’s needs first, while swallowing my own—or trying to smooth things over after someone hurts me, instead of speaking my mind—doesn’t work.

Last year, my spiritual coach advised me to read Robin Norwood’s book Women Who Love Too Much. She feared that I would not learn the lessons of co-dependency that had been instilled in me since childhood. And she’s right. In graduate school, I saw a therapist who treated adult children of alcoholics and I became quite aware of how watching a co-dependent parent always cater to an alcoholic, trained me to put my needs last. When I watched a co-dependent parent always forgive after being repeatedly hurt, I learned that being treated badly is normal and to forgive divine. I ‘got’ the pattern with this therapist. I saw that when I was neglected and ignored by my alcoholic parent, it showed me to always watch for his moods, his needs, and to stay quiet and to rarely voice my own. I didn’t feel important enough. And when you don’t feel special, it’s hard to fight be treated with respect and as an equal. Deep down, I didn’t feel that I deserved it. (I mean, who else would tell their husband to take a new job that paid less and required him to work 2 weeks/month abroad while I’m at home, after an international move, with a 5 month old colicky baby and a sad 7-year-old. Seriously, it’s nuts.)

Putting husband, friends, children, work, first is something I was taught, like many women. But the underlying message screams: ‘I’m not worthy.’ It’s something that I never admitted consciously, but subconsciously, it was there. Depak Chopra calls it ‘conditioning’ based on how we are treated in childhood and by significant others. Norwood explains that we are not what these messages tells us, but we can’t feel any other way unless we recognize it and work toward ‘reconditioning,’ through yoga, meditation, saying positive attributes, therapy, etc. So, basically, it takes time.

After therapy in graduate school, I swore I would never put myself in that situation and I went years without dating. I had the two month litmus test, even back in undergraduate school, which meant, I broke up with someone after two months. The reality is that I was scared I’d give too much and give up on my writing dreams and myself. And I had good reason to be scared. I fall back on what feels comfortable, what feels like home. But that’s not a safe place for someone like me.

So, the lessons continue.

This past weekend was a low point as I was terribly lonely and exhausted after working at an insane pace (which I am actually grateful for!) and juggling the needs of my attorney with a settlement we’re trying to wrap up, and my sick four-year-old who was often at home instead of school.

I needed some R&R. My boyfriend had a needy friend and father to contend with and their own agenda. So, at one point, I let my older son play with a friend, walked my little guy to the beach in the stroller. He was so tired he fell asleep and I just laid in the sand. I listened to the volleyball players and the laughter and I tried to shut out all the negative messages that started back up regarding the divorce and focus on my breath. And I prayed. I prayed for strength and kindness. As simple as that. I prayed to be strong enough to stand up for what I need and believe in, while also being kind. It is possible to be both, don’t you think? I can voice my needs and be firm in situations that involve my children , yet remain true to myself. I can focus on what is healthy and positive while walking away from what is toxic, in a kind, loving way.

So, even though I didn’t have a sitter for the weekend, I kept my thoughts at this level. I dragged my boys to yoga on Sunday morning and left them in the lobby with yummy snacks and video games. I worked out and prayed for strength and kindness with one of my favorite teachers and let my boys see the healthy vibe of the yoga environment. There has to be a way to get through all of this madness with healthy boys, and a sense of self-respect.

I may never be able to stay still and calm in the midst of a storm, like Buddhist teachers try to do (See my post Zenful Reminder at Bedtime), but I can anticipate the storm and watch myself carefully. See, there is a storm approaching for me personally and its likely to come to a head at the end of the month. My goal is to stay strong and not lose my cool. As a very wise friend told me yesterday: “You can be self aware and not selfish. You have to respect yourself if you want respect.”

Baby steps.

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Zenful Reminder at Bedtime

Posted on February 26, 2013 | 1 Comment
zenfulpanda

Photo by: Ivan Ellis

Tonight my four-year-old picked out Zen Shorts by Jon J Muth for me to read at bedtime.  He has never picked out this book before. All the times that I’ve suggested it, he’d say no and hand me a truck, car, or train book. One night I tried to read it anyway, and he couldn’t follow the story and started flipping through the pages of a favorite garbage truck book. Tonight, he seemed to be channeling Stillwater, the book’s main character—a giant Panda who tells Buddhist short stories to his new young neighbors: Addy, Michael and Karl.

As I read the stories Stillwater tells the children, based on centuries old Zen Buddhist literature, it became very clear that I needed to pay attention to these stories.

In the past 11 to 12 days, I’ve been out of my element. I’ve been very distracted and not able to do regular meditation or exercise. The kids were out of school for ‘ski week’ last week and I had work to do for a new client, as well as the boy’s grandmother in town. We had fun and it was so lovely of her to come in to help, as her son had to cancel his week with the boys. It really was a gift to have an old friend back and I’m very grateful. I was able to  go out of town for two days,  and then the two of us took the boys to Vegas, which was a bit nutty, but I’d never been. All in all, it was fun, but then of course, the typical happens—which is that my youngest gets sick again on Saturday night and up all night Sunday. So, my Monday was a mad dash to get a sitter, juggle an important early morning meeting and get all the documentation together for kindergarten application. I just haven’t been present. In my mind, I’m juggling a million things—which really isn’t that unusual. But having thoughts drift to even more things—such as past events, people, places, things people have done to hurt me, pressure to move or change careers, etc.—doesn’t help.  I let my mind wander, scatter, jiggle and otherwise dive in and out of this sort of fear-based, or guilt-based, nonsense for at least the last two days. During this time, I also wasn’t able to do regular yoga or meditation—and it showed with my tired, defeated mindset.

Stillwater, Jon J Muth’s panda, gets his name from the Buddhist’s method of meditation—which is to sit very still, while remaining completely alert. Quoting the Zen Short’s author: “When you look into a pool of water, if the water is still, you can see the moon reflected. If the water is agitated, the moon is fragmented and scattered. It is harder to see the true moon. Our minds are like that. When our minds are agitated, we cannot see the true world.”

As I read these Zen Shorts, it became clear that I’ve got work to do. Being able to stay still and calm in any storm is a Buddhist’s goal—and likely only obtainable by Tibetan monks! Still, when I let my mind race, get scattered or fearful, it’s easy to jump to conclusions or react—when I might not have done so if I had been taking better care of myself and had a calm mind.  As I read each parable to my son, who was commenting on each one and somehow listening intently, I realized: ‘wow, if he learns this now, just think what sort of man he’ll become!’

For instance, the story of “A Heavy Load” is one that I need to keep close at heart. It’s about letting go. And to truly let go, we have to do it in our hearts and minds too. The parable is about two monks who run across a wealthy woman who is being carried across the mud. The men carrying her and her packages, can’t manage to lift her across without soiling her silk gowns. A young monk notices how she yells and snaps at the servants and does nothing to help. The old monk, goes over and carries her on his back across the mud and sets her down. She pushes him aside, doesn’t say thank you and walks away. Two hours later, as the two monks travel, the younger can’t help himself and complains about how awful the woman was and how she didn’t even say thank you. The older replies, “I set the woman down hours ago. Why are you still carrying her?”

Can you think of a time when you’ve held a grudge? Do you go over and over events in your mind making it impossible for you to be present? It’s easy to do, yet changes nothing. It’s really difficult to forgive those who have hurt us. It’s especially frustrating to see injustice done or cruelty. But sometimes, we just have to let it go. The person who is cruel or selfish will ultimately have to look in the mirror someday, or not. It’s out of our control. Karma may or may not exist. That’s life. But giving power to those who hurt us by thinking about what they’ve done over and over again, robs us of our precious moments in the here and now.

And you know what? Not all things that seem bad, end up that way. Like the  parable “The Farmer’s Luck” teaches us about bad luck resulting in good luck—sometimes the worst things that happen to us, are exactly what we need to grow and make space for even better things to come. That doesn’t make them easy to move through at the time, and I really get that. But what I’m really noticing with me, is that when I don’t write, breathe deeply, meditate, exercise regularly or do yoga, I notice that even petty grievances, fears, or past hurts, can spring back into my mind. I can be in the room, but a million miles and years away. That’s not serving my health or the wellness of my boys. I know I won’t be able to achieve stillness all the time, but if I can just become aware of it, as I drift away, and gently bring my focus back to the present (as mindfulness expert Janice Marturano explains in this interview) I’ll get one step closer. This is going to be a daily process that will require forgiveness and a sense of humor.

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True Love on Valentine’s Day

Posted on February 14, 2013 | Leave a comment

kidsheart

If you no longer believe in love, hang out with children on Valentine’s Day. There’s nothing better to thwart skepticism and to infuse some much needed love and laughter into your life. Actually, the day before Valentine’s Day is the best. Watching children get excited while they make dozens of cards and/or help bake cookies is adorable. I’ve always thought Valentine’s Day was a Hallmark-pressured holiday for adults—but now I’m convinced that Valentine’s Day is something special for kids, (and the lucky parents who help them.)

I know, some of you may resent all the silly V-day cards and candy you bought or the baked goods you helped your children with. I get it. I helped my preschooler make 24 cards for friends, four for teachers and one for a favorite babysitter. I also helped my 5th grader make 30 cards. But you know what, the three + hours spent on this project was delightful. I kept giggling as I listened to my four-year-old pretend to write on the cards while saying: “Dear __, I love you SO much. You are a great friend” or “Dear __, I love you. You are cool. Can you play at my house?” Who knew he loves over 25 people besides me?! My 11-year-old pain-stakingly picked cards for specific friends and girls and put them in individual bags. They both helped me cut heart-shaped cookies and sprinkle yummies on them. The infectious excitement and sugar high was a delightful distraction!

I’m convinced Valentine’s Day preparation for kid’s parties, should be mandatory therapy for all single or divorcing parents. It certainly helped cheer me up!

And yesterday was a surprisingly hard day for me as I learned about some sad and maddening situations of friends. And no matter how I tried to distance myself from their situations, I was still affected with a deepening and helpless sadness. I am determined to stay an optimist. But hearing about someone else’s sorrow and betrayal and pain, just took the wind out of my sails.

Divorce is hard. And there are only two paths to take once you begin it: one of learning and embracing a better and positive life, or one of bitterness, victimhood and anger. I choose the first one. But I know the shock in the beginning can literally make you feel like you are dying, so I was very sad for a friend who is discovering a deep and prolonged betrayal.

Another is fighting a horrendous battle that just won’t end. And when people live in anger—to the point of trying to destroy a former spouse—they only hurt themselves with their very own poisonous actions. Money won’t make the pain go away, and hurting someone else to prove a point, just mires you in the abyss. I firmly believe that.

But, as I mentioned, I felt powerless and sad and  a bit lost. I kept reminding myself to focus on my boys who, quite literally, are gifts from St. Valentine (both conceived on V-day weekends…go figure!) Thank GOD I had two boys who desperately needed help with massive Valentine’s Day projects and parties, to distract me. I think our cookies turned out quite good, don’t you? :-)

Vdaycookies

So, while I can’t send you all a personal Valentine, I wish I could. Think of this post as my Valentine wish for you. I wish you all a moment when you feel light. I wish that you find some laughter and find a moment when your life feels like it is unfolding exactly the way it is meant to. And after you read this, indulge in a cookie (no, not the whole box!) and some hot chocolate with your kiddos. If you don’t have a squeeze this Valentine’s Day, I dare you to NOT think about your ex or past Valentine’s Days, but instead, to give your children a squeeze and rent a funny movie after they go to bed.

Giggle and get your own sugar high on. And while you do, think light thoughts. We can’t fix all the heart-break in this world, but focussing on our kids’ love, certainly has to bring some good vibrations to our lives.

I wish you all much love this Valentine’s Day.

L. xo

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Thank God it’s Monday

Posted on January 27, 2013 | Leave a comment

legoscreamface

I think I must have said twice today “I’m turning into my mother.”

The first time I said it was when talking with a friend when I asked her for the names of two neighbors. I knew their children’s names, but for some reason, the mom’s names just escaped me. I felt horrible. I called my friend whose been on the block for almost 20 years for help. As I was apologizing for asking her, I said flippantly, “I must have early-onset. I’m turning into my mother.” (My mom has Alzheimer’s and fear creeps in at times I can’t recall names!)

The second time I said “I’m turning into my mother” was to myself as I tried to listen to my four-year-old talk during bath-time. I was listening to him—sort of—but my mind kept mulling over the events of the day, and how poorly I dealt with them. My little guy has been fighting yet another nasty cold and potential pink eye all weekend. We had gone to urgent care to get those pink eye drops just in case and I shouldn’t have expected that he’d be a perfectly behaved boy. But Friday night he woke up a lot and crawled into my bed coughing on my face so much I didn’t rest well with fitful dreams of catching something. I was already a bit of a zombie on Saturday, so I had no right to go to a friend’s house and to stay up late watching a movie. Boys were asleep, but I stayed up till after midnight watching a Clint Eastwood flick. (I’ve become a fan recently, go figure!) So when my youngest woke up at 6 a.m. Sunday, coughing and making a lot of noise, stomping on the stairs, jumping on me and then later fighting with his brother, I was instantly anxious and grouchy and started rounded up all items for a quick exit. I even talked to myself snappily (something about hating my life and bad decisions) as I stomped around and tried to get the boys sorted. I over-reacted and was in panic mode about kids waking up the household. But of course, I behaved badly by not staying calm and said things I didn’t mean.

It’s just silly. I mean, what was I thinking? Of course he’d get up at 6. Duh.

My day got a little nutty, which is to be expected with a sick kiddo. James had a temper tantrum in the Vet’s office where I was picking up meds for our cat. He sat on the floor between the halfway open front door, where he had jammed his rear-end, and screamed, “I’m SO tired. I just want to go back to the CAAAARRRRR!” Followed by a hick-up.

So,  I picked up my 40 pounder and carried him to car, now kicking and screaming that he now doesn’t want to go to the car. You know, the typical insane rant of a tired, not-feeling-well, four-year-old. I snap him in, without a word, straighten my back and blow out air. Thank God his older brother was on a play-date. I naively thought he’d go to sleep right away.

We go on a long drive out to Palos Verdes to rise above the clouds, get a vista, and let him sleep. He screamed for 10 minutes, which felt like an eternity. I couldn’t even understand what he was saying. My heart started racing. Seriously?! This again? I begin to feel sorry for myself a bit, and handed him a sandwich. (My kid has an amazing relationship with food, so snacks are key.) A few bites and he falls asleep with the ham sandwich still in his tight, little grip. It would be comical if I didn’t have cortisol surging through my veins. With silence enveloping the car like angel’s breath, I thought: How the Hell do moms of three or four kids do this?!

As James was relaxing and chatting NONSTOP in the tub tonight (now onto the topic of just how Lion King’s dad kept talking to him since he was dead), I zoned out and thought about that moment in Palos Verdes in the car when I wondered how other moms keep their sanity. And then it hit me: I’ve turned into my mother.

My mom was such a wonderful, stressed-out, loving, mess. Seriously, she’d gasp sharply whenever the phone rang and jump with fear of an impending emergency. (She was a child-protective services social worker who gave out her home number to clients, so we often had interesting calls.) Occasionally when all four of her children were driving her crazy, she’d snap, “Someday, I’m just going to run away!”

I used to laugh then, but I now know exactly what she meant! I’m sure she was just thinking out loud, not even aware that she said it, as her heart raced madly while four kids were either yelling, hitting, punching, torturing one of our many pets, or up to some other mischief. I’m frankly amazed that she wasn’t a drinker.

Kids are tough. No wonder my brain is mush by Sunday night. It’s a wonder that I can even write this column. I apologize if it’s under par. Maybe I should just quit writing on Sunday evenings due to kiddo brain drain.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love, love, LOVE my little guys. I’m the luckiest mom on Earth to have them.

But thank GOD tomorrow is Monday.

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Boldness Has NO Expiration Date

Posted on January 22, 2013 | 4 Comments
Photo by: Laura Roe Stevens

Photo by: Laura Roe Stevens

“Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!”

This quote, widely attributed to Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, an 18th & early 19th century German author, was attached to my first computer via sticky note, for many, many years. It compelled and inspired me to write, dream, and put myself through graduate school in New York City in my mid-twenties.

I thought about it today, as I was talking with a friend, when I said, ‘put it out there,’ in reference to her dreams. What I meant was, if you have a dream, a vision, a goal, put it out there to the Universe. Don’t poo-poo it. Don’t discard it. Don’t just think about it alone, or when you run or bike, but then tell no one. Instead, tell a trusted and supportive friend about your dream(s). Meditate on it. Ruminate on it. Visualize what it looks like. And just for fun, visualize that you already have it as you go to bed. What does it feel like? How would your day be structured?

Sounds crazy, but Why not?!

I stumbled upon an interesting tidbit about Goethe tonight, while looking up information about his life and this quote. I found that some translators of Faust, his famous play where the main character makes a deal with the devil, varied a bit. For instance, one person translated it as:

“Then indecision brings its own delays,
And days are lost lamenting over lost days.
Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute;
What you can do, or dream you can do, begin it;
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.”

Another translation I found was:

“Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Only engage, and then the mind grows heated. Begin it, and the work will be completed.”

Why, you may ask, am I bringing all this up? I know what it’s like to lose a dream. I know what it’s like to push a dream aside in order to support someone else’s dreams, and then later to support children. I know how reality can settle in and dreams can be procrastinated or pushed aside. Single parents working long hours and taking care of children solo, especially, know how easy it is to push aside dreams. Disappointments, distractions, work—all can make long, lost dreams seem impractical or silly. And if you ever had a family member or unsupportive spouse or friend chastise you for having a particular dream, I don’t need to tell you about how those voices in your head can really do a number on you.

But here’s the thing. There’s nothing silly about dreams. There are the stuff life is made of. They are what we are here for. They are why our earliest childhood friends, who we might have laid underneath stars with, while drinking bad beer and talking, are so special. Remember that time in your life when you spoke of your dreams and talked about how each of you would achieve them? That time is so special because of the excitement and potential crackling in the air.

Sure, we may be weathered now. Wiser too. But many of us are also anchored down with a bit of cynicism and fear.

Maybe I’m immature at heart, but I don’t think boldness has an expiration date.

I wish I could remember the name of the head of the English department at NC State years ago. I remember him telling me about a book he started writing 20 some years earlier and how pain-stakeningly he visited every city and even oil drilling towns in order to create a believable novel. He didn’t finish it and lost many pages. When I told him to go back and start again, I’ll never forget his reply.

“It’s too late. The moment is lost. If I tried to resurrect it now, it wouldn’t have the same essence.”

I didn’t say anything to the wiser, older, professor and writer. Who was I, but a young, student getting a master’s degree? But deep inside, I didn’t believe him. Maybe it wouldn’t be the same novel, but he might discover another one. He might have a great time. He might create an even better one. Think about it.

According to some historians, Goethe wrote the first draft of his play Faust, known then as the Urfaust, between 1772 and 1775. Goethe finally finished writing Faust Part Two in 1831.

I know, not all of you are striving to be playwrights or novelists, but you get the idea.

Maybe you can’t achieve your dreams over night. But who’s to say you can’t take one step toward them each day? Maybe you need to start looking into schools or training courses? Maybe you need to just let go of some added-on responsibilities in order to carve out 30 minutes a day for some needed dream-time? Think about what you may need to do to inch towards a goal. I know there’s a lot I need to do in order to push aside procrastination or fear to move forward.

Boldness may take action—even the smallest amount—but luckily, there’s no time-limit on movement … except the one you place on yourself.

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A Moment To Pause

Posted on January 17, 2013 | Leave a comment

SAMSUNG

The boys and I hiked up to the top of one of the highest canyons in Malibu to get this vista of Catalina Island and the vast Pacific Ocean. Taking a moment to pause, especially when at a distance, can truly give you a better vantage point. It’s easier to put things into perspective when you give yourself that distance and that moment to take it all in.

Lately I’ve been thinking that this is applicable to everyday life—although it takes much more effort. Trying not to react instantly, or to flare with anger, or to over-react—takes more than just patience. I think it takes practice. Ironically, in order to have a better relationship with those I care the most about—I’ve come to realize that I need to find a little bit of distance, or detachment, to create a mental vista for clarity and calm.

Maybe this sounds a bit nutty for some of you? But have any of you suddenly become irritated with your child who is not listening to you and who continues to do something that you’ve asked him or her not to do? Do you find that, without thinking, you snap, yell, grab an arm or say something that you wish you hadn’t? It’s easy to do isn’t it? When I react instinctively, I can literally feel my heart beat faster, my breath get fast and shallow and all clear thought escape the building.

It’s now mid-January and I’ve determined that the best New Year’s resolution for me is to try, not only to be more present, but to carve out the ability to be calm in the midst of storms. (I don’t want my children to carry with them memories of a parent who ‘loses it’ on a consistent basis.) To do this, I’m going to try to take a deep breath and count to five whenever the munchkins start misbehaving. (Unless of course, it’s a dangerous situation, like one of them running into a street!)

As my yoga teachers and Deepak Chopra have all shown me—it’s almost impossible to overreact while breathing deeply. Try it with me. Take a deep breath and fill up your lungs completely. Hold it at the top and count to five slowly. Now, breathe it out, slowly and deeply. Can you imagine your heart or mind racing while you’re doing this? It’s virtually impossible.

I was reminded twice this week of how important this breath break is. The first was a yoga teacher who said she wanted to focus on finding a pause before reacting. Her goal for the week was to pause during stressful events in order to choose the right reaction, instead of reacting. Then two days later, I snapped at my boys. After trying to get James to sleep for two hours unsuccessfully, his big brother comes into the room, making too much noise and knocking over and spilling the humidifier. Was it the end of the world? No. What did I do? Overreact and chastise him. Of course, I immediately apologized, and realized how I should have reacted.

Hopefully, taking a deep breath, holding it for the count of five and slowly letting it go, will give me the vantage point I need to then deal calmly with any stressful moments with the kids—or in life in general. I’ll let you know how it goes!

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Luck, Murder and Kids with Guns

Posted on January 10, 2013 | Leave a comment

noguns

“Good luck has its storms.” - George Lucas.

I was buying a coffee at my local spot yesterday morning and the barista, who likes to serenade me for some reason, was singing a made-up tune: “Lucky Laurrra, Loving Laura. Lucky Laura comes around the bend again. How lucky for me.” You get the idea. And as I walked out of the cafe, I thought: she has no idea about the timing of her little ditty.

Twenty-seven years ago a good friend was murdered at my high school by a likely insane student with unrequited love for her and access to a gun. That fateful day was also a very close call for me. So close, that most friends and family really have little idea. Had I just reminded my friend to meet me at our teacher’s office after our practice, maybe I could have thwarted my friend’s murder. Knowing me, I did remind her as we were both in trouble. So, I’ll never know why she didn’t show. Had she shown for our detention, I would likely have been shot too. So, perhaps I should look at it as Norma saved my life by forgetting to meet me, and therefore, not letting me walk with her to her car and mine, which was parked across from hers that afternoon. Instead, I got to find her slumped over her car, arm dangling down the rolled-down window, blood on the ground and see her murderer’s car spinning out of the dirt parking lot behind a cloud of dust. His best friend just standing there holding a knife. It was all surreal and I recall just deciding to go to Norma’s house to tell her mother and take her to the hospital before the madness of the media began. How I thought of it, I’ll never know. But I’ll never forget the way Norma’s mother looked at me when I walked in, and without a word said by either of us, she collapsed into tears. She could never look at me again, after that day, without utter sadness. We took her to the hospital, where hoards of TV crews were now filing in, and I remember thinking how cruel it was for her family to be captured in complete agony. Later when I was a crime reporter, I made a vow to never be an anguish chaser.

But back to the unfolding of that story:

Here’s the twist of fate: Norma and I had been in trouble with our anatomy teacher for being late, yet again, to class. We had a problem with flirting and chatting in the halls and not making it across campus in time for his class. He demanded that we both stay after school to discuss it. But we had cheerleading practice. So he said he’d wait and we needed to see him afterwards. Norma was my partner who lifted me in all jumps and so for the next hour and a half, I worked with her on lifts and dance moves. (I know, I was a cheerleader back then, bear with me people!) I recall saying something like see you at Coach L’s, but maybe I didn’t? I know I didn’t want to go alone for our ‘talk’ but I really can’t recall whether I reminded her. When practice broke up and we all left to change or gather books, I went to Coach L’s for my punishment. Coach L and I waited for Norma before our ‘talk’ could start, but instead, a football player appeared in the door screaming shots were being fired and we all ran out to the student parking lot.

Chance, luck and coincidence have played huge rolls in my life. Even at 16 years, this wasn’t my first brush with near-death. (I almost died at 6 months from spinal meningitis and survived due to a nurse’s late call with a dream that I would die. I fought meningitis again at age 11 and was hospitalized.) So, yes, I’m a very lucky girl. And luck or chance visited me again on this day—and for years—I’ve been plagued with guilt. So much so, I couldn’t participate in court proceedings or in interviews for an HBO documentary about teen murder. I felt like I could have stopped this. Three weeks before the murder, this disturbed boy who was angry she didn’t have feelings for him, left threatening notes and flowers in Norma’s car that made her cry and shake with fear. There were obvious signs that something was wrong. And then, of course, I didn’t walk with her to her car like I always did after practice.

None of it is reasonable, I know. But I carried that guilt for a long time. Now I’m just angry. This unstable boy should not have had access to a gun. His friends—who knew about his rage and likely read his notes and recordings planning Norma’s death— should have told a teacher or parent or someone.

And parents, please, lock up your guns. Just a few months ago, I read a tragic Facebook post from a former high school friend, who still lives in our hometown, saying her young daughter’s friend fatally shot herself accidentally when she found a loaded gun at home. Sadly, I recall finding my own father’s gun in his bedside drawer at one point in my own childhood. I’m sure it was an accident, but then again, can you imagine if a disturbed, drunk, or angry teen found it? (I am one of four children, so there were kids, friends, neighbors, in our house most days.)

I’ve given up trying to curb guns in our country. We’ll never be England where kids never have to fear being shot at school or elsewhere. And while I’m encouraged that assault weapon bans are moving forward—there are still SO many guns and NRA supporters, that it’s impossible to get rid of the sheer volume of guns in homes across America. So my hope by sharing this sad story is that it will inspire just one person to go out and buy a gun safe. And if you have a safe, for pete’s sake, I hope this story will inspire you to put all your guns (preferably unloaded) in your safe at ALL times.

Gun violence has escalated since my friend’s murder in 1986. In fact, according to Ezra Klein of the Washington Post, of the 11 deadliest shootings in the United States, five happened since 2007.  

For those interested, on the day of the Newtown elementary school shooting, I stumbled upon his excellent article in the Washington Post: Twelve Facts about guns and mass shootings in the United States . 

Our society is becoming ever-more violent. Please, please, please lock up your guns.

Thanks for reading.

P.S. North Carolina readers: Norma’s killer is up for parole and a North Carolina law may make it easier for him, and other felons, to get out of prison. I just found out about this today. You can read about it here.

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How Tragedy Crystalizes What’s Important

Posted on January 3, 2013 | 2 Comments
Photo by Chris Anastasiou

Photo by Chris Anastasiou

Three weeks ago my words were taken away. Since the Dec. 14th horrific shooting in Newtown, Conn., I haven’t been able to write. I haven’t written in a journal or in this blog until now. Nothing on my previous blog schedule interested me. It felt almost treacherous to write about the mundane holiday stress story, or the single parent wishlist. I couldn’t justify the importance of such trivial, albeit timely, topics. I couldn’t find the energy. On the morning that the events unfolded, I was at home with a very sick four-year-old, and as he slept, I watched the T.V. and wept. And from that moment, nothing—no topic—felt compelling. So, the article with an expert interview on keeping traditions alive post-divorce never got posted. The reviews of the best children’s books to buy this year also fell to the wayside. I just couldn’t muster up the energy to write on these topics.

How could I? There are 26 families who would barely be able to celebrate the holidays this year. Their worlds will never be the same. What about the families in Colorado who lost loved ones this summer in the movie theater mass shooting? What about the families across America who lost babies and children after they tragically found unlocked guns at home and shot themselves accidentally? How many American children have been caught in the cross fires of drive-by shootings? (I read more than 500 people were shot in Chicago this past year!)

Seriously, how many distraught, depressed and lonely people ‘celebrated’ the holidays and rang in 2013 desperately missing family members who were killed by kids wielding guns?

Right now, the media is obsessed with the Fiscal Cliff drama. But I can’t move on from the terribly important topic of keeping our kids safe and healthy. And that INCLUDES the mentally ill kids who desperately need their medications and therapies that may be too expensive or too scarce in many communities. I know I’m not the only person in America in this debate. In fact, the gun rights debate sickens me. I’m originally from the South and am ALL too familiar with the typical NRA stance.

All I know is that right now I just can’t continue to write about typical single parent topics as the ONLY issue weighing heavily on my mind is how Americans can continue to live in a country that allows easy-access to rapid-fire guns and very little access to mental health services. I just can’t muster up the typical parenting topics right now. It just feels treacherous or wrong—like the feeling one must get when watching a magnificent sunset emerge above a battle field strewn with bloody bodies. Yes, life goes on. You and I can forget about Newtown and Boulder and Columbine. But this battlefield will keep emerging. How can it not? America can’t seem to limit its gun sales—and at the same time, doesn’t offer proper and affordable resources to assist the mentally ill. Add our culture of stress and violent video game habits and we’re brewing the right cocktail for yet another mass shooting to emerge in some picturesque town near you.

I’m fairly convinced that we are, in fact, stuck as a country. It will be a long time before I feel safe, or I feel my children are safe. Whenever they travel back to the South, I’ll worry about whether friends or family members have guns in locked safes. As someone who experienced a high school shooting, I know first hand the post-traumatic stress of finding a friend shot and nearly missing your own death at the young age of 16. What that sort of experience must do to a five, six, seven or eight-year-old is unthinkable. Right now, I just don’t think it matters what side of the gun debate you are on. The conversation about whether you think our founding fathers would want everyone (including teachers) to carry guns—or whether you’re thinking about moving to Europe in order to find a safe spot away from machine gun wielders—isn’t the conversation I want to have.

I want to know why we can’t provide better assistance to the mentally ill. I want to know why we can’t keep machine guns or rapid fire assault weapons out of our country. Why are social services departments strapped? Why is it easy for the wealthy to buy prescription drugs online to numb what doesn’t really ail them—but it’s almost impossible for the lesser thans to get medications and counseling they desperately need?

In order for me to feel inspired to write about the topics of helping children of divorce feel safe and thrive—I need to feel as if they have a fighting chance of surviving elementary school, middle school and high school first. Our children’s safety is what should connect all of us—no matter what side of the gun debate or raising taxes to provide more social services argument we may fall.

In the new year, expect to find more articles that explore the stigma of mental illness; services for the mentally ill; stress-coping skills for teens and tweens and parents; post-traumatic stress from trauma (and this includes nasty divorce trauma) and kids; and combating violence at home and at school. I’ll still have posts specifically for single moms, but I just can’t ignore what’s really important. It would be like getting diagnosed with cancer and deciding to take an Asprin and wish for the best. Here’s to a safe New Year in America and a future for our children.

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