Category: Books

When I first read the description of Maddie Dawson’s The Stuff That Never Happened, I thought I was in for a fluffy, bedtime read.

Annabelle McKay knows she shouldn’t have any complaints. She’s been in a stable marriage that’s lasted almost three decades and has provided her with two wonderful children, thousands of family dinners around a sturdy oak table, and a husband so devoted that he schedules lovemaking into his calendar every Wednesday morning. Other wives envy the fact that Grant is not the type of man who would ever cheat on her or leave her for a younger woman.

The trouble is Annabelle isn’t sure she wants to be married to Grant anymore. The trouble is she’s still in love with someone else.

Dum-dum -DUM! One woman. Two great loves. So deliciously scandalous. What’s not to like, right?

So I started reading about Annabelle and Grant’s cozy little life. Their companionable suppers and quiet ease with one another, Grant’s passion for his work, Annabelle’s weepy episodes in public places…

A few chapters in, I couldn’t take it anymore and had to put the book away. It was hitting too close to home.

No, silly, I am not yearning for a long lost love. It’s the other thing… the being married to the  sweet, wonderful guy. I have a nice, NORMAL, devoted husband who loves our family and his work. Yes, I am a very lucky girl!

I have no complaints about our marriage except that I often wonder where it’s gone…

Six years ago, I was a newlywed. We had no sooner bought a cabinet for our wedding china and a house to put it in than my husband and I thought, “Hey wouldn’t it be GREAT to start a family!”

Two kids, four houses, and six jobs later, I wonder what was so wrong with just “being in love” for a little bit longer… HA!

Ah, but so goes the great romance of my life. Still, I have no regrets. Truly.

I once read an article about how marriage brings about children, but children bring about the end of marriage. I don’t entirely agree with that statement, but I completely understand. OH. MY. HELLS. Do I understand!

In an earlier post, I detailed the amount of stress we’ve been going through lately with balancing home and work. More specifically, balancing our life at home and my husband’s life at work, which, by the way, supports this whole gig.

Until one of us comes into hoards and hoards of money (not likely), we’re always going to have to work.  Furthermore, we’re always going to take care of our home and kids. Right now, the division is somewhat rigid. My husband goes to the office. I stay home with the kids. Both jobs are demanding, but not mutually exclusive. My husband still needs to part of the family. I still need to be part of the world.

At the moment, our children are very young. At ages four and one, each of them require a LOT of attention. I’m told that this too shall pass.  “It’ll get better once they get older.” Except that I was a kid once and I know for a fact that it only gets more complicated… and more angsty and misunderstood.

Fortunately, my husband has a job doing what he loves and at a great company too, but it’s still very long hours. In what little time that remains, there’s fitting in all of the chores and other responsibilities of running a home. There’s devoting time with the kids- with each of them as individuals, as a family, and as an extended family. Then there’s spending time alone, pursuing our passions and hobbies, or just vegging out.

Unfortunately, on the very bottom of that list has been spending time as a couple– date nights, uninterrupted conversations…. Sitters aren’t cheap, which brings us to the very thing that divides us. His work to support our life.

It’s hard not to feel like we’re growing apart, because by necessity, we are. I just wonder how I’ll look back at all this two or three decades from now. Or worse, what two or three decades of living this way will do to “us”.

Don’t get me wrong. I adore my husband. I love our children and I’m grateful for our charmed life. However, these days I’ve been asking myself, is this marriage or is this just my marriage?

Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of The Stuff That Never Happened by Maddie Dawson as member of the From Left to Write Book Club, which was created as a continuation of the Silicon Valley Moms Blog Book Club. The thoughts and opinions expressed above are my own.

You can visit Maddie Dawson’s website or follow her on Twitter.

To read other posts inspired by this book, visit the From Left to Write Book Club Blog.

On Wednesday evening of the week before last, Lou spiked a fever. She’s been teething. So, it seemed like nothing out of the ordinary, but Mike and I decided to go ahead and cancel my 30^th birthday party, which was planned for the upcoming Saturday.

In the middle of comforting my sick baby, trying to get dinner ready, and to be perfectly honest, feeling disappointed (petulant) about having mah birthday party canceled, my mom instinctively called.

She just had a feeling, as she often does, that she needed to be in touch with us at that very moment.

I’ve mentioned before that my mom is a pediatrician, which was a blessing as a first time mom and a curse as her daughter. Having seen it all from the far-fetched to the mundane in her 35+ years of practicing medicine, the woman is the Wikipedia of Worst Case Scenarios.

So when I told her about Lou’s fever, she started listing possible causes such as… oh, bacterial meningitis, seizures, and pneumonia… as if it was nothing more that reading a grocery list. Eggs. Bananas. Milk.

What she calls “concern” and “ just being informed”, I’ve long dubbed “hysteria”. When she insisted that I take Lou back to the doctor and demand lab work to be done, I told her, “Stop freaking out!” as I have done many, many, many times in the past.

“Okay,” she backed down, “Just consider what I told you.”

I could tell by my mom’s voice that she didn’t want to stop “freaking out”. This was her granddaughter. Her only granddaughter living 1,679 miles away and whose tiny body is being ravaged by big, ugly GERMS!!!

I could tell that had we not moved so far away, she would already be in her car and heading our way.

I could tell that the only reason she did was out of respect for my boundaries when it comes to motherhood.

Still unnerved, I tossed a barb about my sister’s upcoming wedding. She brought up my own bridezilla tendencies. I rolled my eyes and told her I had to go and “why would you call me at DINNER time anyway? Ugh!”

Mike came home a few minutes later. Upon taking in all of the information relayed from my mother, he stared at me wide-eyed and as he has done many, many, many times in the past… sided with my mom.

Err on the side of extreme caution. Parking brakes in parking lots. Triple checking window locks. Pediatric Urgent Care at supper time with the older one in tow for a fever. Yup, there’s a reason Mike gets along so well with my parents.

On the way home, I sent my mom the following text, “Got lab work done for L. Will let you know results when we get them.”

She replied two seconds later with, “Thank you for paying heed…” followed by a list of which tests should have been run.

“U R crazy but I love you”, I texted back.

“PRAISE the Lord. I’m proud U R my daughter.”

(Oh, Mom. Always with the high drama. Ha!)

Within the span of one conversation (and across several miles), my mother and I went from genuine concern to pressing one another’s buttons to mutual adoration. It’s shorthand for rehashing everything that has gone before– every door slamming and storming out, every criticism, every insecurity– and a testament to the way in which we’ve been able to evolve and come full circle.

Is there any other relationship that can endure such blows and never suffer an ounce of love like a mother-daughter relationship?

I thought about this a lot as I read If You Knew Suzy. Although, I don’t how you can NOT think about your mother while reading this book… and want to hug her.

Faced with her mother’s death from lung cancer in 2005, Katherine Rosman embarked on a cross-country journey to meet people her mother affected– among them a former golf caddie, a legendary Pilates instructor, an eBay glass collector, and an immigrant doctor at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center.

The result was If You Knew Suzy, a memoir chronicling the journey of cold calls, e-mails, and interviews in her quest to reconnect with her “healthy, vivacious, free-spirited, moody, pain-in-the-ass, nurturing, imperfect, perfect mother.”

Juxtaposed with the stories she never knew about her mother told by people some of whom she hadn’t previously met, Roseman tells a bittersweet saga about a relationship that was loving, but fraught. A relationship that I sympathize (commiserate) with all too well.

I never felt as close to my mother as when I became a mother myself. Holding my baby boy, and a few years later my baby girl, for the first time I finally understood what my mom’s “freaking out” was all about. I doesn’t stop me from rolling my eyes and begging her to “reeeeeelax already”, but at least I get it and appreciate her all the more for it.

It turns out Lou was perfectly fine, which I knew all along she would be. Ahem. All she needed was a little rest and some extra cuddles, and she was back to normal by the weekend. (Just in time for Scout to come down with something…)

Not that anyone is keeping score or anything, but if one were… there’s clearly only one winner is in this situation. Mother’s Intuition. Yea, Mom!

Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of If You Knew Suzy by Katherine Rosman as member of the From Left to Write Book Club, which was created as a continuation of the Silicon Valley Moms Blog Book Club. The thoughts and opinions expressed above are my own. You can purchase a copy of this fantastic book here.

To read other posts inspired by this book, please click here.

Excepted from the front flap:
Faced with the loss of her mother to cancer at sixty, Wall Street Journal reporter Katherine Rosman spent a year investigating the life of a woman she only knew as a parent. Along the way, Rosman discovered another side to her mother—a woman whose life was intricately connected to a host of characters her daughter hardly knew…

Blending humor, honesty and old-fashioned reporting, Rosman’s grapples with the bittersweet reality that sometimes we can’t truly know someone until after she is gone. At once comforting, candid and very funny, If You Knew Suzy is a heartfelt memoir against which readers can consider themselves and the lives of all those they love.

Confession. Every third day, I  think about going back to work. Seriously.

Each time, my reason is completely different. Some days it’s because I caught a glimpse of the person  I once was. Take charge. Ambitious. Creative. Smart. I miss that girl. She was cool. I wonder what happened to her.

Other days, my intentions are less noble. Months and months ago, while potty training my son and cleaning up yet another puddle on the floor, it would occur to me, “If I were at work right now, this would be someone else’s problem. Not mine!”.

Most of the time, it happens because, simply put, I am worn down…from LIFE.  And as we all know, a body that is worn down is more susceptible to catching things….

Things like myopia and  “grass-is-greener”-itis.

Then, the phone rings or I remember that we’re supposed to be somewhere, and I get back in the game. My “ambivalence” is set aside for another day.  I go on doing what has to get done, because that’s what moms do.

It takes a book like Just Let Me Lie Down to remind me that the grass is NOT greener.  I remember that I left my job for some very valid reasons– two to be exact…

These feelings, while oftentimes overwhelming and isolating, are not unique to me. They’re unique to motherhood. As moms, we all face the same challenges, guilt, and sense of obligation. Financial issues aside, we all have choices to make. However, the supreme choice is whether or not to be happy.

So last week, when a opportunity presented itself, I jumped on it. A leap of faith, if you will.  It’s a role that’s completely in line with what I used to do, but would still allow me to be home with my kids.  So after tucking my kids into their beds, I held my breath and applied. A few days later, I was asked to submit a resume.

As part of my megalomania personal growth, I update my resume each year. Although with moving and baby and moving again, I’ve been a little behind on it this year… and last, but at least I knew where to find it on my computer.

When I attempted to open the Word doc, an error message popped up saying the “file is corrupt”. I tried  several  more times, but it was no use. It was clear that my resume, containing all of my accomplishments and  achievements, could not be salvaged.

There’s an analogy in there that I would rather not dwell upon.

Disclosure: I received a copy of Just let Me Lie Down, Necessary Terms for the Half-Insane Working Mom by Kristin van Ogtrop to read and discuss as a contributor for the Silicon Valley Moms Blog. The thoughts and opinions expressed above are my own.

Kristin van Ogtrop is the editor of Real Simple magazine and writes a blog of her own called Adventures In Chaos. Her book is a fantastic read for any self-described half-insane mother. (That would be every mother, right?) You can purchase your own copy from any of these fine retailers.

To read other posts inspired this book, please click here.

All parents have the highest of aspirations for their children.

Doctor, teacher, President of the United States… but the next Kobayashi?

If fate were decided by talent and talent was determined at the age of eight months, then my daughter definitely has a shot at winning international titles in competitive eating.

She greedily gobbles up all of her dinner, grabs a whole chicken leg from mine, and will still eye her big brother’s plate for more…  and she doesn’t even have teeth yet!

Barely over 50th percentile at her last check-up, she’s doing her best to catch up one chubby fistful of Cheerios at a time. Honestly, I don’t even know where she puts it in her tiny little frame!

It’s been tough to keep up with her demands, which is why I was thrilled to be given a chance to write about Annabel Karmel’s Top 100 Baby Purees and Top 100 Finger Foods for the Silicon Valley Moms Blog.

Getting my daughter to try new and adventurous tastes is clearly NOT an issue for me. My biggest problem is knowing what I can feed her… As in, what’s “allowed”?

You’d think I would know all that already, having had an older child and all. Except that my son never had home-made baby food.

Yeah. I’m sure this will somehow play into a future  laundry list of how I loved one child more than the other blah, blah, blah… Homemade baby food or not, he will always have three years and four months of blissful “only child”-hood on his little sister.  So there!

In the throes of new motherhood (and for a short while, working motherhood), I felt like I had enough on my plate.  The last thing I wanted was to spend my Sunday afternoons pureeing vegetables and neatly portioning them out into ice cube trays.

This is not to say that I would have been opposed to the idea. After all, I was pretty strict about which types of jarred foods he ate. And, once upon a simpler time, I did enjoy cooking. Making my own baby food wouldn’t have been such a leap.

However, an allergy scare early on turned me off the idea entirely. A stern reprimand from our pediatrician made me paranoid about trying anything “different” or “new”. So I stuck with what was considered tried and true. (read: safe and boring)

Knowing what I know now, I wish I had at least tried to make Fillet of Fish with Orange Sauce or Tomato Cauliflower and Carrot with Basil for my son. I’m sure he would have loved it as much as his sister did when I served it to her for lunch today. Having hand selected and prepped the ingredients myself, I get much more satisfaction from knowing exactly what goes into my kids’ food.

I’m not embarrassed to admit that I used store-bought baby foods because they were convenient and made my life easier. Scout certainly hasn’t suffered because of it. He’s bright, happy, healthy, and not shy about demanding a hummus-broccoli sandwich instead chicken nuggets. (NOW, Mommy!)

I’m more ashamed to admit that I didn’t trust my own instincts when it came to knowing what’s best for my kid.

Disclosure: I received  free copies Annabel Karmel’s Top 100 Baby Purees and Top 100 Finger Foods to taste test on my kids and write about for the Silicon Valley Moms Blog. The opinions are my own. You can purchase your copies of Top 100 Finger Foods and Top 100 Baby Purees by Annabel Karmel here.