Category Archives: memoir

Learning Tween

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Not to toot my own horn, but I consider myself a pretty adept parent. I believe I have a good relationship with both of my children. I don’t classify myself as having one specific parenting style; I am a marriage of authoritative and free-range as the situation necessitates. 

For example, I set realistic rules and boundaries for my children; if those rules and boundaries are not followed, there is a relatable consequence. But, at the same time, I allow my children out into the neighborhood to play with the expectation they’ll return at a designated time. At the park, I allow them to wander off and do their own thing, occasionally checking on them to ensure they’re safe but not interfering with their play. 

My children, however, are not the easiest of personalities, and raising them has not been a walk in the park. But I feel I have done my best to be consistent and that they’re growing up to be decent human beings. As a result, I have moments of immense pride in both of them as I watch them grow and accomplish new things at each stage of their lives thus far.

I have always encouraged their individuality. I want them to be their own person with their own interests, style, and passions. I encourage them to dress the way they feel comfortable, to style their hair the way that makes them feel good, and to pursue the hobbies that interest them.

However, all my education and experience dealing with kids goes up to about the age of my youngest, nine. And over the past few years, I’ve watched my recently turned twelve-year-old morph into someone who, I hate to say it, is annoying and frustrating to be around sometimes—namely, a tween.

And now, despite raising my children in as consistent an environment as possible, I am faced with crossing a new frontier. A place I have zero experience in, the land of tweens and teens.

To begin with, nothing is ever his fault; it’s usually mine. Everything I ask him to do is equivalent to asking for the sun to be moved and, probably worst of all, tweens smell. Their rooms smell, their clothes smell, and it doesn’t seem to bother them! Maybe girls are different, but I don’t remember being too much about being a tween.

Even when I say “yes” to things he wants to do, somehow, I’m still wrong. It’s truthfully exasperating. And there is so much eye rolling and huffing of the breath….

I’m reading the tween parenting articles and advice, and I’m using what I know about adolescent development, and I like to think I’m doing it mostly, sort of, kind of, almost right. But I guess only time will tell. So all I can do is stay the course. 

And I guess that’s the key. Just like little ones, our tweens and teens need consistency and boundaries. Perhaps more than our little ones, who naturally rely on us and look to us for advice. Tweens and teens are disposed to rebel and argue, but they still secretly want our guidance. Therefore, their need for boundaries and rules is even more crucial.

My boys engaged in less-than-favorable behavior the other day in the care of another adult. I was mortified to hear about it. So my response was that on top of a 30-minute no-electronic session in their room to reflect on their behavior, they were each required to write an apology note as soon as they got home from school.

The younger accepted his fate will very little pushback. The tween? Not so much. There was wailing and gnashing of the teeth and, “This isn’t fair! This is so stupid!” And I guess to a twelve-year-old, it was unfair and stupid. But I hope this experience will contribute to the man he’ll one day become. 

I hope he’s learning that apologizing when you’ve behaved poorly is important. I hope he’s gaining the understanding that his actions affect other people. I hope he realizes that life is unfair sometimes but that we can’t take out our negative emotions on other people. 

I admit I don’t know what I am doing, and this foreign land is terrifying. But I know the type of person I want my son to become. And more importantly, I realize that the more consistent I am now with rules and boundaries, the more it will pay off later as he ages. I’m only scratching the surface of teen years and know it’s a long, arduous road ahead. 

Hopefully, in a few years, I’ll have some sage advice to share with others embarking on the tween/teen journey. But for now, I’m buckling in and prepping for a bumpy ride!

A Mini Beach Trip to the Waffle House by the Bay

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Travel and fun outings were a significant part of my childhood. Whether it was trips to a Phillies game, museums, visiting my grandparents, Disney World, road trips, or big trips to Europe, my parents excelled at exposing us to fun and adventure. 

As a parent, I’ve tried to do the same for my two boys. It hasn’t always been easy or affordable, but I’ve managed to do some pretty fun stuff with my kids. Most recently, I had the pleasure of visiting a part of Maryland I’ve never traveled to before; Lusby, Maryland, on the Chesapeake Bay.

I’ve lived in Maryland for almost seven years, yet this was my first visit to this beautiful area only ninety minutes south of my home, but I hope it won’t be my last!

A friend recently bought a vacation home there with her husband and turned it into a peaceful escape for families available to rent on Air B&B. They named their newly renovated home The Waffle House, which lives up to its cozy vacation-vibe name. My boys and I were invited to stay there free of charge in return for blogging about my experience. So, while I have been compensated for this piece, the opinions are all mine!

The setting of the house is ideal. It is situated near other homes, which provides a sense of community, but nestled in a wooded area less than a 5-minute drive to the beach. The spacious yard has a volleyball court, a basketball net over the driveway, horseshoes, a fire pit, and hammocks!

And although the house provides a tranquil sense of isolation, the town center is a mere 10 minutes away and has everything you need. We utilized “the CVS and Weiss Supermarket for an “emergency” S’mores material purchase. In addition, we visited one of the local restaurants, Atomic Seafood. 

The house itself is adorable, spacious, and beach chic. Robin and her husband have pulled out all the stops to ensure you and your family feel the beachy vibe from the get-go. There are nostalgic black and white old-fashioned beach photos, seashell decor, and my oldest son’s (and future zoologist) personal favorite, a fossilized 8-12 million old piece of baleen whale vertebrae. The Vertabae was a gift from the Calvert Marine Museum, which we also enjoyed visiting. 

My kids have been museum junkies since they were born. If there is one thing I, an educator, love, it is a good museum; so my two have visited their fair share, and both thoroughly enjoyed the Calvert Marine Museum.

They both enjoyed the exploration room designed for kids to play hands-on, but the museum trip’s highlight was the opportunity to watch the resident otters being fed their lunch. 

Only three of us were on our trip, but the home could accommodate several more. There’s a set of bunk beds and a king bed in the master suite and two additional bedrooms with a queen bed each. The room I slept in was right off the dining room and had one of the queen beds and a loft designed as a kid’s area. And honestly, a teen on an air mattress could easily sleep up there. So there are several ways you could arrange sleeping arrangements depending on the ages and numbers in your party.

The living room was our favorite spot. The dual air hockey/pool table entertained my two off and on, and I enjoyed cozying up in the oversized armchairs to read. The candy machine was another fun novelty loved by my kids! I loved that nickels were provided, and I’m surprised they only used it twice each during our stay!

Lastly, one of the biggest perks of staying in this beautiful vacation home is its proximity to two beaches. On our arrival evening, we visited Driftwood beach, a mere five-minute drive, and witnessed a beautiful sunset.

The following day, the weather cooperated, and the temps rose to a whopping 62 degrees – a treat for February, so we packed up and headed to another local, private beach, Seahorse Beach, for a few hours before lunch and then went back for another hour in the afternoon.

My boys enjoyed searching for shark teeth and collecting seashells, playing in the sand, and exploring the beach and the water.

And despite the cooler temps, my eldest even got in the water! I enjoyed sipping warm coffee and reading to the sounds of the waves as my children played in the sand. 

Beach chairs, toys, and even sunscreen (which I forgot to pack!) were at the house, making the trek to the beach a smooth experience. 

Other amenities provided at the vacation home that came in handy include:

  • Keurig with k-cups, creamer, and sugar
  • Shampoo, conditioner, and body wash
  • First aid kit and bandaids
  • Dishes, pots, pans, cups, utensils, etc.
  • Lines and towels
  • Beach towels
  • Olive oil and condiments
  • Games
  • Roku TV & Wifi
  • Outside toys (basketball, frisbee, volleyball)
  • Back porch
  • Firepit

Attractions in the area:

  • Bike, running, and hiking trails
  • Calvert Cliffs
  • Annmarie Sculpture Garden & Arts Center
  • Cove Point Park and Pool
  • Cove Point Winery
  • Solomon’s Island Winery
  • Solomon’s Island
  • Flag Ponds Park
  • Calvert Marine Museum
  • The World Famous Tiki Bar
  • St. Mary’s County
  • Several Farmer’s Markets

We ended our brief stay by making S’mores in the firepit, and my final half hour before getting ready to pack up was enjoyed sipping coffee as I sat by the dwindling fire. 

Our stay was wonderful, relaxing, and refreshing. It’s the perfect spot for a short or long getaway for couples, families, or friends. There was so much to do in the area; I hope to take my boys back at some point to explore the area further.

Check On Your Mom Friends

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Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

I’ve been thinking a lot about mom shaming lately. And don’t get me wrong, criticism happens to dads, grandparents, and everyone else too, but mom-shaming has become such a part of our culture that when you say mom-shaming, we all know what you mean.

I experienced a lot of mom-shaming when my eldest was little. He has an “invisible illness” and was diagnosed with some physical and speech developmental delays around two, anxiety at three, and sensory processing disorder shortly after; people didn’t get why he behaved the way he sometimes did. 

I’ve experienced it with my second one, who was diagnosed with ADHD at four and anxiety at five. So that’s a fun cocktail!

Photo by George Pak on Pexels.com

And I have to admit, ashamedly, I’ve done my fair share of mom and parent shaming. Something I’ve spent the last few years trying to stop. And believe me; I know it’s easy to look at a situation with a grain of sand of information about the entire beach exploding in front of you and say, “If I were her….”

But the problem is you’re not her. You’re you. If you were her, you’d probably be doing exactly what she’s doing because you’d have her experiences, toolbox, and mental health capacity to handle the situation. 

It’s hard enough being a parent without feeling like everyone around you, even your family and closest friends, are judging every parenting decision you make. It was doubly hard for me because, as an early childhood educator, all my peers saw how I parented close up. After all, my children attended the preschool where I taught, albeit not in my class. 

And truthfully, not everyone understood my choices because they didn’t know my child like I did. They didn’t understand the frustrations, fear, and anger I had at home sometimes because they only saw part of my children’s behaviors.

I still deal with mom-shaming. However, a lot of it is in my head now. I’m pretty proud of how my kids are turning out, but of course, the work isn’t over yet. 

Photo by Keira Burton on Pexels.com

I feel guilty that they use electronics as much as they do.

I feel guilty when I say no to a game of Monopoly right now because my mental health can’t handle it. 

I feel guilty when I say we can’t read another book because I need some quiet time. 

I feel guilty when I let my kids eat dinner in front of the TV, I know I shouldn’t, I really, really know I shouldn’t, but I do.

I feel guilty when the 500th question my child asks me makes my brain want to explode, and I say, “I don’t know,” instead of helping him find the answers.

I feel guilty that my youngest lives on a diet of mac and cheese, chicken nuggets, and fruit snacks most of the time.

I feel guilty about all these things because society has told me I should love being a mom every second of every day. Society has told me I must sacrifice everything for my kids, including my mental health. Society has told me that being a mom means being perfect.

And I know I’m not the only mom out there who struggles with feelings of guilt, inadequacy, and simply not being enough. I am not the only mom who feels the demands of life are just too much sometimes.

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I make no secret that I deal with depression and anxiety, and some days are tough. Some days I want to crawl into bed and never come out. Some days I’m anxious from the moment I wake up until I finally, mercifully, fall asleep, only to wake up to the same anxieties.

I’m really good at being down on myself, but I rarely give myself credit for the good.

Instead, I mom-shame myself because it’s a learned behavior. 

But what about the fact that I should feel proud that both my kids have a sport they love and are good at? I take time to get them to practice, classes, and games and cheer them on. Most afternoons, when the weather is nice, they go outside after school and play for several hours because I’ve encouraged outside play since they were babies.

I should feel proud that a game of Monopoly is on my floor right now that’s been going on for a week, so it’s ok. I didn’t want to play the one afternoon. I’ve spent hours playing with my son and having fun.

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I should be proud that I read with my son every night and have always encouraged reading and that I value myself enough to take some time just for me.

I should be proud that I can provide my children with food and a comfortable home.

I should feel proud that I take them to the zoo, museums, aquarium, and library so they can learn and discover. 

I should be proud that my youngest also loves fruit and eats fresh fruit with almost every meal.

I should feel proud that I am doing my best and understand that my best is not anyone else’s best. My best on one day is drastically different from my best on another.

As moms, we spend so much time in our heads, thinking we’re not enough. Thinking we’re not doing enough, giving enough, trying hard enough. 

Photo by Elina Fairytale on Pexels.com

But I’m here to tell you, you are. You are enough. Hell, I need to tell myself I am. I am enough.

So, check on your mom-friends. Remind them and yourself that you’re doing a great job. Let them know they are seen. A lot of us are struggling. But we are enough. I promise. 

My Postpartum Never Went Away

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Not many people talk about postpartum depression several years after giving birth. However, in some cases it can lasts for years. Postpartum depression usually begins within the first three months after giving birth and can last anywhere from a few months to several years. Roughly 80% of women will suffer the baby blues, a feeling of being overwhelmed, fatigued and sad.  Baby blues are normal, after all, a significant change just occurred in your life. These feelings pass in a few days to a week for most women, but 1 in 7 women or roughly 15% will suffer from postpartum depression.

I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety at 23, long before I became a mother which puts a woman at a higer risk of postpartum. That being said, I always wanted to be a mother; I used to say I would adopt a child from every country in the world and you could usually find me playing with my baby dolls or playing some version of “family” with my friends when I was young. Being a mom was an absolute must for me, so when I found out I was pregnant with my first child at the age of 29, I was through the roof excited.

I worried about postpartum since I already suffered from depression, but I hadn’t been on medication for a few years and was doing really well. And miraculously, I didn’t end up with postpartum after he was born. I was tired, moody at times, frustrated sure (also a full-time grad student), but I was delighted with him. I had the usual ups and downs of most new moms. My postpartum didn’t hit until he was about three years old, and I had a second child, but I didn’t understand what it was until several years later.

Having a second child was always what I wanted; I thought I wanted three or four; I can’t even imagine what my life would be like if that were the case now.  My older son was a typical two-year-old in a lot of ways, except he wasn’t. He had a speech delay from having fluid in his ears for almost a year; we had no idea because he had only had one or two ear infections, typical stuff for an infant. It wasn’t until he was missing his speech milestones we knew something was up. He also required OT for sensory processing. He was an extremely bright boy who was becoming increasingly frustrated because he couldn’t communicate properly or make sense of his world. 

These factors brought a lot of stress, combined with having a newborn and teaching full time; I became depressed again. I couldn’t afford treatment at the time, so I tried to work my way through it; I didn’t cope well but I did manage to hide it from most people.  My second son was amazing in his own right, and I loved everything about him, but we lived far away from any friends or family at the time, so I had very little help with a newborn and a three-year-old. 

I cried so many days, and evenings, nights, mornings, you name it. I kept thinking, what have I gotten myself into? That was almost over seven years ago, and it hasn’t gone away. I love my children, and I have and will do anything for them, but the past decade has been nothing like I thought parenting would be, and I’m still sad—a lot. I was ashamed that wasn’t loving every moment of motherhood and didn’t feel like it was something I could talk to anyone about.

Where was the time for me, and what I wanted to do? Everything came with stress, figuring out schedules, finding babysitters, calling off work when they were sick, constantly putting myself on the back burner. Somehow over the years, from time to time, I managed to still do the one thing I loved most in the world, theater, but it came at a steep financial and emotional cost at times between babysitters and schedule juggling. People would often ask how I had time to do theater, and I would always reply because I had to. I had to. It was the one place I still felt like me and not “just a mom.” 

I am sure some are reading this and thinking, well, that’s what happens when you become a mom; you sacrifice yourself for your children. But I disagree. Yes, we make sacrifices for the sake of our children, we put them first more often than not because that’s what parents should do, but we should never feel like we have sacrificed who we are; and that’s how I felt nearly every day.

It was get them up, go to school/work, pick them up, cook them dinner, stop them from arguing, play with them if and when I had the energy, make sure homework was done, give them baths, put them to bed, and then if I had time, read (my other passion) for 15-30 minutes before falling exhausted into bed and doing it all over again.

On the flip side, I was never cut out to be the stay-at-home-mom, and I was grateful I had a job teaching that I loved, but when COVID-19 pandemic occurred it didn’t provide me with much of an option. So I resigned from teaching to take care of my two children, who were too young to stay home alone. It just wasn’t cost-effective to pay for full-time care for them while I worked. Staying home full-time compacted everything. 

Thankfully this time, I was able to return to therapy and was already back on medication, both of which helped, but I constantly would think, “This isn’t what I signed up for.” Now there was absolutely ZERO time for me; they were here all the time. There was no theater to escape to, no karaoke nights with friends every other Saturday, no date nights outside the house. I didn’t even have the twenty-minute commute from my school to their aftercare to pick them to enjoy a moment of quiet.

I also couldn’t do the things I enjoyed doing with my kids; trips to the zoo, museums, playground, and vacations. I hated the mom I was becoming over the pandemic. I had no patience; I felt like I yelled all the time, I cried even more, and my depression was taking over. 

It took some serious soul searching and multiple therapy sessions to realize that all this time, I was still suffering from postpartum depression.  Let that sink in, seven years of postpartum depression. No wonder I often resented being a mom. No wonder I was jealous of all the Facebook-perfect moms out there.

Now, I am not bashing social media, I have a Facebook account, but I realized that my constant comparison to everyone else out there added to my depression; so when I feel a surge hit, I stay off for a day or two. Studies have shown that while social media has some benefits for some, it can also increase feelings of depression in others. And what did I spend a lot of time doing when I was stuck home with two kids? Browse Facebook, of course. I would sit and scroll and look at what I perceived to be everyone’s “perfect life.” There’s a beautiful meme I saw that perfectly describes what social media is genuinely like. I wish I knew who to give credit to, but I don’t, so to whoever created this, thank you.

My children went back to school last week after nearly 17 months of being with them every day, and while anxious about COVID concerns, I trust their school and am happy they are back. I feel relief.

It wasn’t all bad, of course. I was able to watch them grow and learn close up, they bonded at a new level, and we all had our creativity and ingenuity stretched to the limits.

But for the first time in seven years, I feel relaxed, as if I can breathe again. I decided to stay with freelance writing instead of going back to teaching, and I’m finally doing what is right for me. 

I’ve been alone in the house for five days now, and it’s incredible, for lack of a better word. I can think, I can run an errand when I want to, I can work out on my schedule, I can watch TV, or work, or write, or clean the house, or take a nap, or practice my singing, or mow the lawn, or take a walk, or go get coffee, I can use the bathroom or take a shower without hearing someone knock as soon as I go in.

I can breathe. 

For the first time in over a decade, I am not at the beck and call of someone else, and it feels phenomenal, and I refuse to feel guilty for feeling this way. 

I never knew how much I needed this space; I didn’t understand. I felt terrible because I didn’t love every second of being a mother, but how could I love being a mother when I couldn’t love myself? I will always battle depression, but understanding it better has given me new strengths and tools to combat it.

When my children walk in the door every afternoon, I am excited to see them; I am calm and restored. I feel like I am finally becoming the mom they deserve. I hope they know how much I love them, and I have always done my best to show them. Yet, I have been far from perfect and made so many mistakes. 

With this newly found space, I finally have the time to find myself again and am discovering I have so much more to give them.

It’s OK to Get Upset

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As long as I have been a part of the early childhood education world, the following phrase has been a part of it: You get what you get, and you don’t get upset. 

I don’t know when parents and educators started using this phrase, but can we please stop?

Not only is it dismissive to the child aka you’re feelings don’t matter but more and more research indicates the importance of teaching children how to express and handle their emotions. When we teach children about their emotions, we give them the power of expression and self, and we start letting them know their mental health and well-being are just as important as their physical well-being.

I understand what the phrase is trying to do; it’s saying, whatever happens, it’s going to be ok, but to blatantly and repeatedly tell children they cannot get upset is ridiculous; it’s also not human.

We get upset. I get upset. One day years ago, when I was teaching four-and-five-year-olds, it was my day to be at the school early and open the classroom. On these days, I made a special stop at Starbucks and bought an expensive splurge drink. A parent who was in a rush asked if they could leave their child with me.  Even though I wasn’t clocked in yet and not even in my classroom, I was in the kitchen of the school enjoying my last moments of quiet before the crazy day began; I said yes. 

While in my hazy, still sleepy, somewhat-annoyed-that-the-parent-had-just-done-this-state, and trying to keep an eye on the kid while I got what I needed for the classroom snack that morning, I set my coffee down on an uneven surface and the entirety of my specialty, splurge coffee spilled on the floor. 

It wasn’t even 7 A.M. My once-a-week splurge lay on the floor (and I now had to clean it up). And I had a 4-year-old standing next to me. I vividly remember telling myself silently, “Don’t cry. Do not let this child see you cry over a spilled coffee.” Honestly I wanted to have a tantrum.

So why didn’t I have a tantrum? Well, I came close, but I didn’t because I had learned how to process and handle strong emotions. We need to teach our children that it is OK to be upset when something negative happens, but how you respond that matters.

When I was teaching and passing things out, I would always shorten it to “You get what you get.” There was always at least one child in the class who would then say, “and you don’t get upset.” When that happened, I would look at them and say, “It’s ok to be upset when you don’t get what you want; what’s important is how you handle it.” Pay attention to that second part – it is OK to get upset when you don’t get what you want.

I have been performing in theater and music nearly my entire life, which means there are countless times I didn’t get the part or the solo I auditioned for and wanted. Do you know how many times I was upset I didn’t get the part I wanted? EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. Of course I was upset! But here’s what I didn’t do. I didn’t go on social media and bash everyone involved with the show. I didn’t scream and throw things. I didn’t swear off doing theater ever again. 

I talked to a friend or my mom. I went and did something I enjoyed like reading a book.  I took a walk and listened to music. I enjoyed a glass (or two) of wine. I took a bubble bath. The point is I found ways to work through my disappointment and move on. These are the skills we need to be teaching our kids. Go ahead and have your disappointment, but let’s figure out the best way to handle it.

There are times I cried and times I didn’t. There are times it took me a few weeks to get over the disappointment and times it only took a few hours, but I was still upset every single time; because I’m human. 

Is it appropriate for a ten-year-old to cry because their sibling got the last green Jolly Rancher?  In most cases, no; but they are allowed to be bummed out about it. Is it appropriate for a five-year-old to have a tantrum because their best friend got the sticker they wanted at circle time? Probably not, but if they do, we can use it as a teaching opportunity to find other ways to express disappointment.

It is rarely a healthy option to tell kids “Don’t cry” because it is another way of telling them their emotions are not valid, but sometimes it can be hard not to roll our adult eyes and think, “Really? He’s crying because Godzilla is no longer on Amazon Prime?” (And yes, my son did this. So what I like to do instead is say, “It is ok to be upset, but Is this situation worth your tears?” Phrasing things in this way makes children slow down and evaluate their responses.

We can help our children process big emotions and disappointments by using phrases like:

  • I see you’re really upset right now. Would you like some space?
  • This seems to be making you sad. Do you want to talk about it?
  • It is ok to be angry, but it is not OK to hurt people or things.
  • You seem worried. Would you like me to sit with you?
  • I am not sure what is bothering you, but I am here if you want to talk.

The more we as adults recognize and discuss emotions, the more our children will understand them. Like language and social interactions, children learn about handling emotions from the adults surrounding them.

If a child grows up in a house where anger is considered “bad,” they may have trouble processing feelings of anger because they believe it makes them bad. We must also avoid assigning emotions to genders. For example, if children hear that crying and whining is what girls do and boys should be strong and fearless, then we are assigning weakness as feminine, but we are telling our boys that they have to be brave all the time. 

Fear is another normal and completely biological response in many situations; fear is what kept our early ancestors alive. They needed to know when to run, when to fight, and when to hide too, survive. 

Emotions need just to be emotions—all normal and all OK.

Children should be learning self-awareness and understanding of their own emotions, regulating and controlling those emotions, learning to understand what is essential and what is not (AKA is this situation worth your tears?), and reading and understanding emotions in others. 

We do this when we allow children to see our emotions and emotional process and demonstrate how to handle disappointing and upsetting situations. Teaching emotional intelligence puts our children in the driver’s seat of their mental well-being and teaches them how to problem-solve and self-soothe. 

So, teach your kids you get what you get, and you CAN get upset. But also teach them that a tantrum over a Jolly Rancher probably isn’t worth the energy spent, and if you take the red one, at least you still got candy! More importantly, you’re helping them process their emotions and how to handle things independently so that when they are thrity they don’t have a melt down over spilled coffee.

The Power in Positive Phrasing

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One of my son’s favorite books is “No, David!” by David Shannon. We read it all the time. I like to jokingly put his name in the book, and while it is funny, it also hits a nerve for him and me too. That’s because we can both see him as the character in this book, a little boy who has trouble controlling his emotions and actions and, as a result, hears the word “No,” a lot. 

The funny thing is I know that that is the least effective way to communicate with him and to get him to do what I need to be done. I’ve read all the research on positive phrasing; as a teacher, I had that skill down almost to perfection. I even counseled other parents to use it and explained the benefits behind it. As a mom, though, easier said than done.

When you place a negative in front of a phrase, the child doesn’t hear the negative; they hear the action. So “Don’t run inside” becomes “run inside.” Now, I am not saying children hear this and automatically think you are telling them to run in the house, but the negative gets washed away; it’s not effective.

Positive phrasing, in all communication, is more likely to yield the results you’re after. But why? Well, first, it’s more pleasing to the ear and the mind. “Please walk inside” is more compelling than “Don’t run!” Second, when we phrase things positively, we are more likely to speak in a calm voice than yelling or a scolding tone. A calm voice is more likely to garner attention.

Experts say if you want your children to listen quietly and calmly, don’t yell. When you yell, they begin to shut you out and begin to shut down. When you speak calmly and quietly, you show respect, which begets respect, and they are also forced to listen to hear what you have to say.

You may still get surly looks and crossed arms when you talk quietly, but I guarantee they are listening. 

Telling your child what you want or expect instead of what you don’t want sets up clear guidelines; it tells your child exactly what is expected. If you say, “Don’t run,” it leaves room for them to interpret that as ok well, I can still skip, jump, hop, cartwheel, or crawl. If you say, “You need to walk when inside the house,” there is no room for interpretation. It’s cut and dry.

Trust me, I know this is a difficult skill to conquer, especially of late when we’ve all had way more “quality” time with our children than ever before, but it does work. And I need to remind myself of that from time to time too. But just try it, write your self post-it notes or reminders around the house so you see them and can remember it in the heat of the moment. 

Try taking a deep breath before responding to your child’s behavior. It will help you stay calm and it gives you a chance to phrase what you need to say in your head first.

Take some time and think of all the things you say “no” to in a day and see if you can flip them into positives.

Instead of:

  • Don’t leave your laundry on the floor.
  • Stop playing with your food.
  • Stop hitting your brother.
  • We don’t draw on the wall.
  • Don’t dump all your toys out.
  • Don’t talk back to me.

Try:

  • Please put your laundry in the basket
  • I need you to eat because you are making a mess.
  • You need to keep your hands to yourself.
  • Crayons and markers are used on paper.
  • Please clean up your toys when you’re finished.
  • You need to speak respectfully to me.

Phrasing things positively doesn’t mean you are saying yes to everything; it means you set up clear expectations of what is expected and acceptable. 

Save “No” for moments of danger. Then it should be said in a loud, firm voice. Yelling “No” or “Stop” right before a kid touches a hot stove or steps off the sidewalk as a car barrels down will give them the jolt to potentially stop the dangerous choice. 

When children hear no all the time, it loses its polish. Think of “No” as your boy who cried wolf. If it happens all the time, no one is going to listen to it. If you save it for moments of import, your child will not be used to hearing it, so the novelty will grab their focus. 

My boys are fans of the new movie “YES DAY” and have watched it at least twenty times in the last few weeks. The concept is that for one day, the parents say yes to anything the kids ask (within a set of parameters, of course).

They have asked me to have a Yes Day on more than one occasion. So far, the answer is a no… but we’ll see.

The Story of My Exhaustion

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A year plus into this COVID pandemic, and I know I am not the only parent feeling burnt out, exhausted, worn down, and even hopeless at times. I am already dealing with depression; I was first diagnosed at 23, long before becoming a mama. I have always had good days and bad days. I have experienced great weeks and horrible months, but this year has been a challenge all its own.

I went into the pandemic, like most of us, I think, believing it would be a month or two at most. I mean, who could have predicted this past year? It is quite literally unprecedented! I vividly remember the conversation with the director of the private preschool I worked at, offering me the furlough option and me feeling grateful.

My two boys, aged 5 and 8, had been out of school the past two weeks, and I was paying nearly half my salary for them to have full-day childcare. Not working was also going to be a struggle. Still, I knew I couldn’t sustain this momentum financially. At least if I were furloughed, I could collect unemployment until things got rolling and I could get back to work.

Work at the time was also bizarre; so many parents had pulled their children; there were way more teachers in the building than kids! I gratefully accepted the furlough option, though terrified, and took myself to Target – mask still weren’t a thing yet – it feels forever ago!

My plan in Target was to stock up on craft, science, and toys to keep my kids entertained for the next several weeks – HA! I was going to be the Mary Poppins of Moms… and I was, for about two months.

Then I began to feel restless; the stress of not knowing when or if I’d go back to work, the idleness of not leaving my house, and being home all day with two small children was wearing me down. Not to mention the initial virtual schooling began, and that was stressful for all!

I decided to start this blog so I had somewhere to channel my energy. Then I started freelance writing; long story short, I decided to stay home and work freelance rather than go back to teaching. Here I am, a year later, still at home with two kids.

If that weren’t enough to stress one out, my depression was bearing down on me; many days, I felt like someone had laid a heavy blanket on me, and I couldn’t get it off. I was gaining weight, and I was miserable.

I knew I had to make a change, so I contacted my doctor last August; we switched my antidepressants, thinking this would help my mood and help me lose weight. I even signed up for a weight loss program and followed it religiously for weeks. My weight continued to go up, and I continued to stay depressed.

By December, I could barely get my work done, I was in a haze all the time, and you guessed it, still gaining weight and still depressed. At one point in January, I took myself to get a COVID test because I just felt so horrible and lethargic (no cough, no fever), but I didn’t know what else to try.

The test was negative.

I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what. Then in a matter of three weeks, I gained 10 pounds. That was the final straw. I had been exercising almost daily; this was not normal.

I called my doctor, made an appointment, and had bloodwork done. Two tense weeks later, I found out I have Hypothyroidism. More specifically, Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis. An autoimmune disease where your body begins to attack your thyroid.

Do you know what three of the symptoms of Hashimotos’ are? You guessed it, depression, fatigue, and weight gain.

My doctor immediately put me on thyroid medication. He told me to change my diet overnight, a Mediterranean-style diet with no gluten, soy, or dairy.

I was overwhelmed. I was relieved. On the one hand, I was expected to make all these changes to my diet and lifestyle, to take medication daily, but on the other, it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t causing my symptoms. I wasn’t just fat (as a doctor once told me when I was 18) or lazy or too depressed to be a good mom. I was sick.

I jumped in with both feet, determined to feel better. It’s been six weeks, and I have lost 5 pounds and counting. I’m not as depressed, I feel some hope, I’m sleeping better, and I have more energy on most days.

I chalked so much of what was going with me to the pandemic and being home all the time, but that was just a layer; my body was telling me something was wrong, but the signals got lost, or I didn’t want to see them.

I still miss my friends, although many are vaccinated, and I will be soon too! I miss performing in and attending live theater and singing karaoke. I miss dining in restaurants and vacations and taking my kid’s places.

But I finally have been able to lift part of that heavy blanket off, and I feel hope. As I sit in my library with the windows surrounding three-quarters of the room all open and look at the fresh flowers, I bought myself yesterday sitting on a bookshelf, and I don’t feel quite so tired anymore.

This past year has changed me as it has changed every one of us. I am still going to wish I had more energy. I am still going to wish I could be a better mom. I will have to work hard every day to control my diet, exercise, and take my medication to stay healthy. But I’m not exhausted anymore, and no matter what else happens as this pandemic goes on, I can say to myself now, “I’ve got this.”

Humanity for our Teachers

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I want to give a shout-out to all the educators who have been working tirelessly since last spring to ensure our children had a safe place to learn, whether virtually or in the building.

While my situation allowed me to leave the classroom and stay home with my children, I realize that is not the case for many, and I understand how fortunate I am.  I spent a mere two weeks teaching and trying to juggle childcare for my children before I was furloughed and then eventually decided to stay home.

No matter how hard I try, I cannot put myself in the shoes of anyone out there still navigating the work and childcare battle, but I know it is hard. I spent years struggling with finding subs when my kids were sick, and I had no one to watch them because their father was a full-time student.

I spent years being the one who missed work because it cost less for me to stay home than it did their father.  I’ve felt the unsurmountable stress of finding a babysitter for the weekend or evening school event.  And, I’ve been home, extremely ill with two small children because I didn’t have anyone to drop them off or pick them up, or when I lived in Chicago, the drive was too far.  

Since I switched to writing full time, I have had my calls interrupted by my kids.  I have had my work stopped because there was a nerf battle going on in the basement, or someone fell outside during recess and was injured.  I have had days where I’ve been interrupted so many times to help with school work I eventually gave up on what I was writing for the day.

I have cried in frustration too.

I understand the plight of the working parent.  But I also understand what our educators have been going through.  And many of these educators are also working parents.

Depositphotos.com

People are constantly worried about kids falling behind; I admit I have had my moments too, but then I stopped and asked myself, “What are we so afraid of them falling behind?” 

Math scores?  Reading tests? Arbitrary numbers and statistics that we are told our children need to meet to be the best.  We’re continually telling ourselves and our children that they have to be the best.  And again I questioned, the best at what?

I want my children to be the best at being human, being kind, empathetic, helpful, compassionate, and understanding, and that starts at home with parents and caregivers.  

We can start by showing educators compassion and understanding.  

I believe my son’s 1st-grade teacher is a saint as I watch and listen to her daily try to wrangle 17 first graders to pay attention to a screen, to help them one at a time to navigate through which button to push or link to click and she never sounds impatient or mad. 

Do I think most children would do better in a physical classroom? Of course. My son with severe ADHD would benefit significantly from being hands-on in a school, but it has not been an option where I live nor for many around the country. 

As an educational advocate, I also understand that the playing field isn’t equal, and virtual schools make it even less so for some.  My heart aches daily for the children going hungry or being abused and who lack the school building’s safety to come to for eight hours a day and may miss getting a warm meal, or any meal at all.

I feel for the children with shaky or no internet access, whose parents can’t or won’t help them with their work, or who are struggling without the aid of tutors, mentors, and that special human touch of an in-person caring teacher.

But much of this is out of my control. And every teacher I know who is virtual is aching to be with their kids again; they just want to ensure it is safe both for them and their students.  So what is this country doing yet again to its teachers?  We are throwing them under the bus.   

I know personally, first hand more teachers than I could count, I’ve listened to their stories, I heard their fears and concerns, I watched them struggle as they too learn new technology, new ways to create and present lessons, new ways to engage children over a screen, new ways to teach.

How often in your career have to been asked to throw away 85% of what you know and, in a few short months, been told, figure out a new way? Oh, and it better be perfect because if not, we’re judging you and then going to bully you?  I hazard to guess you’ve expected to do that zero times.

But somehow, it has become ok to bully teachers because they are not perfect.  Somehow, once again, it is the teacher’s fault that our child is not “the best.”  Somehow we are again blaming schools and educators for everything wrong with society.

And people wonder why there is a teacher shortage.

I get sick to my stomach when I see comments like “go back to work,” “stop being lazy,” “you need to do your job.”

If you think teaching 20 kids over a screen while simultaneously not losing your cool, trying to offer individualized instruction, and trying to make sure something you are presenting sticks, then please, by all means, try it.

Oh, and add to that the hours you spend off-screen planning lessons, adapting them for online and hybrid learning, grading and assessing work, answering parent emails and phone calls, and attending meetings on how to continually better the system that has been evolving day after day.

My older son’s third-grade teacher is buying science experiment supplies, driving around to each child in her class’s home this weekend, and delivering the materials so every child in her class can participate.  She also dropped off goodie bags and supplies before the school year began and before winter break.

Teachers.  I applaud you.  I support you.  I respect you.

The thing that really gets me, though, is that my kids HAVE learned this past year.  They have advanced academically and picked up skills they didn’t have a year ago, and I would assume that my kids aren’t the only two who have learned new information and skills.

So what exactly is there to be angry at teachers about?

They have also learned adaptability, flexibility, problem-solving, computer skills, creativity, resourcefulness, how to think outside the box, patience, acceptance, and that life doesn’t always go as one would like.

In my opinion, valuable skills.

The truth of COVID life is, many careers have had to switch to a virtual setting, but I don’t notice anyone giving other professions a hard time or calling them lazy as they perform their work from home.

Yes, children need socialization, we all do, and this has been extremely challenging; I miss my friends and all the things I used to do too, but why does society think that everyone gets a free pass except the teachers?

Why and when have we, as a country, stopped valuing what they do?  

Why are we supporting hundreds of other industries that have been effected, but the industry that produces our most valuable resource has been vilified?

Frustration is high, but people are also scared, and the last time I checked, people have a right to feel that way.  This has been a scary and unprecedented time in our history.

It seems insane to me that a medical condition has become political, that so many refuse to believe what science says. Still, this is new and scary, and information comes from a thousand different places, so maybe I do get it.  You have people who still believe vaccines cause autism.  They don’t.

I do not claim to have the answers, but I know that being kind goes a long way.  Perhaps in place of fear and blame, we could try compassion and support because, in the end, above all else, that is what I hope my children learn from this experience; not multiplication or that the first word of the sentence needs to be capitalized but to rally in a time of confusion and fear instead of tearing one another down.

I hope they learn how to be human.

Music & Multiculturalism

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Music is a powerful tool. It evokes emotions, memories, cheers us up, provides energy, or allows us to wallow if that is our mood.  

Music has been a part of my life as long as I can remember. My parents played instruments growing up, my sisters and I played instruments and studied music, and I studied music as an undergrad.  

Music surrounds us even when we don’t realize it. The birds singing in the trees is music. The hum and rhythm of the fish tank or dishwasher or the absent-minded whistling and humming we may do when working and thinking are music. 

 I am a huge supporter of arts and art education, and every year that I taught PreK, in addition to daily music and activities, I included a unit focused on music. Music is an incredible teaching tool, particularly when it comes to teaching our children about diversity and multiculturalism. 

Photo by Victor Freitas on Pexels.com

If you asked me to name my favorite musicians or composers, my immediate response would be Bon Jovi, Mozart, Ella Fitzgerald, Queen, Idina Menzel, and Rodgers & Hammerstein. That is a somewhat varied list, but those are just my TOP musicians.

Suppose you asked me to name music I enjoy and listen to regularly. In that case, I’d say classical, mostly piano and cello music, Broadway show tunes, country music, jazz standards, classic rock, 90’s rock, Edith Piaf, and choral music (particularly Rachmaninoff).

Then, I listen to other music types at various times just because I feel that vibe or want to hear something outside the box for me.  

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

The point is music is hugely varied and can take us to many places and encourage us to learn more about the artist, the period, and the culture.

Music can be a window into other cultures for children and we should encourage them to learn more about those cultures.  

Some music you can introduce to your class or children at home includes the following dance types:

  • Salsa
  • Ballet
  • The Hora
  • Irish Dance
  • Russian Dance
  • Country Line Dancing 
  • Hip-Hop

Play some videos and using a YouTube, or watch a tutorial to learn the basic steps with your child, and dance along! Children LOVE to dance, so play anything with a good beat, and they are sure to bop along!

My 6 year old has learned almost all of Michael Jackson’s live Billie Jean performance from simply watching and attempting to learn the steps!

Disney 2018 – Pro Latin

Riverdance 2009

Next, tie that music in with books related to the culture and music they stem from. As you read through the books, you can branch-off based on your child’s questions or topics while reading.

As a final tie in, introduce your child to various instruments from different cultures. This can be through visual aids such as computers or books, or if you can get your hands on some instruments or see a live performance or demonstration even better!

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Pexels.com

The more you expose your child to different types of music, the more you expose them to different cultures. It provides windows of opportunity to learn and experience, and it begins to create an understanding that all cultures have something unique to add to the human collective. 

Inspiring Books for Teachers

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Teachers have been a topic of interest of late. Many are preparing their classrooms both virtual and face-to-face and some have already begun teaching for the year. I spent 14 years teaching and I remember the joys, frustrations and excitement of preparing a classroom for a new group of learners. All teachers are facing a new set of rules this year as they embark on the 20/21 school year and first and foremost, I want to applaud them and thank them for all that they do each and every day for our children.

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Second, I want to say, I know the struggle of keeping the fire alive day after day when faced with a difficult student, a challenging set of parents, a lack of funding for curriculum, lack of support from administration. Sometimes the, “Why do I do this?”, creeps in. This school year I know many teachers are facing a new set of worries, frustrations, complications and fears; yet they return because they love the children and they love to teach.

I decided to share some books that have inspired me most or helped me most as a teacher. Some are fiction, some are “How To” and some are reflections on education and society. Each one has helped me or motivated me in one way or another as a teacher and if you are an educator reading this I hope they can do the same for you!

The Essential Conversation: What Parents and Teachers can Learn from Each Other

I believe this book should be required reading for ALL educators, and it wouldn’t hurt parents to read it either. The title subtitle says it all, what parents and teachers can learn from each other, because it should be a collaboration. We have become increasingly parent against teacher in this nation instead of working together to provide the framework our children need to succeed. I see the degeneration of the parent-teacher relationship now more than ever as countless people sit behind their computers and complain that teachers “need to get back into classrooms and work.” The community has lost connection with teachers, what they do, the hours “off the clock” they are still working and and instead respect for teachers has been replaced with contempt by many.

Teachers have somehow become the be all end all solution to every problem, every child has. I have had many fortunate collaborations with parents in my career that resulted in positive and on going relationships. I also had those who wanted to blame me for every problem their child was having, you can’t win them all. But if we worked together, kept the lines of communication open and on both sides worked towards what is best for the child, I bet we’d see amazing results!

Know-It-All: One Man’s Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World

First I love A. J. Jacob’s writing, it is real, funny sarcastic and you actually learn something to boot! If you haven’t read one of this books, please do, they’re wonderful What I love about this book is that I WAS the kid who’s parents’ owned the complete encyclopedia set and I did sit and read it. I have loved learning and reading as long as I can remember and I haven’t stopped yet! This book is a funny reminder that we simply can’t know it all even when kids think we do.

It is important to be honest with children if you don’t know the answer to something and then take the opportunity to discover the answer together! I have often, both as a teacher and a parent, stopped what I was doing to look something up on the internet, or grab a book off the shelf so that a question could be answered. By admitting we don’t know everything, we show kids that it is OK not to have all the answers but that there are always ways of finding them!

We Need to Talk About Kevin

This book is one of the most powerful fiction books I have ever read. I have rad it twice so far and will probably read it again. I recommend this book to ALL teachers and parents, especially parents of boys. I will not delve too much into the plot, but I will say this piece was an eye opener on mental health in children. The first time I read it was before I had children and in today’s day and age I think this book is even more releavnt.

It is also an important reminder that as an outsider to everyone’s life but your own, you have no idea what another parent or family is facing or dealing with. Judgement hurts us all, it creates barriers, us vs. them. Unless you are living the life, you have no place to make assumptions on why a child behaved a certain why, or what a parent is facing personally. Thorough my experience as a teacher and my education I have been privy to things in children’s homes no one would ever guess. While none of us are perfect, mistakes are made, bad decisions chosen, do your best to reserve judgement on a child or family that doesn’t seem to make sense to you and instead find out in what ways you can help.

Teacher Man

If you are a teacher and you haven’t read this book yet, you should. Frank McCourt, was that teacher, the Robin Williams in Dead Poet’s Society teacher, the one that got his students. This book is powerful and shows just how much a teacher can give of themselves to their career and to their students. It is also an insider look into the fact that teachers, believe it or not, are humans like everyone else out there. That teachers have their ups and downs, professional disappointments, vices and personal problems.

You Can’t Come to My Birthday Party

This has been the single most transformative book to my career as a teacher. I read this and spent half a semester of grad school implementing this in the Pre-K room I was assistant teaching in at the time. I read this, and a light bulb went on.

We have all heard little kids say these things:

You can’t come to my birthday party!

You can’t come to my house!

You can’t play with my anymore!

It’s how children try to handle conflict and disagreements, by attempting to wield the little power they have or think they have. This book centers on helping children solve conflicts appropriately by giving them the tools to do so. It places the teacher in the role of mentor not judge or decision maker, but instead empowers children to make decisions regarding disputes together and in their own words. Since I first read this I have employed it every classroom I have worked in and have trained other educators on the principles and methodology as well.

A Call to Action: Women, Religion, Violence, Power

A Call to Action is a reminder that there are many out there without the same access to education as those of us in more affluent countries and communities. It is a reminder than in many parts of the world and within many religions it is considered taboo to educate women and girls. This book was a reminder to me that we need to continue to encourage our girls to break the barriers of male dominated careers and help them know that they have the same rights to be an astronaut, doctor, member of the military, engineer, professional sports player and whatever else their heart might desire.

I temper this by saying, our young boys need to support to, just often in a different arena. We have to stop telling our boys they need to be “tough”, that they “can’t cry” and we have to allow our children both boys and girls, the opportunity to express themselves, follow their interests and be whoever it is they want to be. Cue the next book….

This is how it Always is

This book gave me goosebumps up and down. Not just because as a parent, it is hard to imagine what it would be like if my child were transgender, I know I would love either one of mine just the same, but what internal struggles would I have? It also affected me because of the way the education system failed this child by just not understanding and making their life so much harder.

This is a fictional story, but LGBT children and their families have been facing these struggles for a long time. These children don’t know where they belong, they often feel forced to hide part or all of who they are, and LGBT teens are one of the largest groups of individuals who commit suicide. This book is a reminder that while we can’t always understand what a child is going through, or know how to help, and it may even make us feel uncomfortable, but as the caring adults in their lives we need to find ways to let them know that we are indeed there for them and that we love them and that we wil be there to help them figure it out as best we can

The End of Education

This book is an insightful and critical look at how education has changed over the decades. While published 25 years ago in 1995, it still offers relevant insights into the modern education system, the changes made for the worse for both children and educators and insight into why and how we need to fix and rectify the American education system.

There have, of course, been many other books throughout the years that have impacted me one way or the other, but these are the ones that have been the most influential. Being a teacher is a hard job, being a parent is a hard job, let’s all remember to treat each other with respect. While we may hold different opinions on the current schooling situation we can still maintain that mutual respect needed to do what is best for our children. Stay Well!