I heard a comedian do a bit on parenting that revealed his childless status. He began by referring to Oprah’s position that parenting is “the hardest job in the world". The comedian said that he didn’t believe that any job you could do in your pajamas could be all that hard. To which I respond, "Let me ‘splain you how wrong you are!"

Let’s begin with a brief job description: 1. Applicant must be willing to be on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for at least 18 years, 2. Applicant must be able to deal with employers who speak a language that is impossible to understand, while at the same time being completely responsible for said employer’s survival, 3. After the first 3 years of listening very closely to determine the employer’s needs, Applicant must devise a way to tune out or risk bleeding from the ears after year 12 of employment, 4. Applicant must be able to be patient and handle fourteen tasks simultaneously, after which the employer will tell you how incompetently said tasks were performed. 5. Applicant must be willing to do all this for the salary of $0 with the proviso that in 18 years you will work yourself out of a job, unless of course the employer decides to renew the contract with a one-way option.

The bonus plan is that you can work in your pajamas.

During the process of finishing my book on parenting, it occurred to me that before releasing a book on parenting, perhaps I should address NOT being a parent. If you are contemplating having a baby, know that parenting is too important (and difficult) a job to be taken lightly. My philosophy is that parents who decide to have a child should be well informed before consummating the marriage. They should have to take a class given by a middle-aged mom with at least three kids to show these idealistic, would-be parents exactly what to expect.  I also believe that people should view parenting as a privilege, not a right. To drive a car you have to go through some training and pass a test. And yet, you can have a baby and become a parent without any knowledge or training whatsoever, just the appropriate equipment will do. At least in the old days, our extended families (the grandparents and aunties) would help the new parents learn how to raise a child; today there’s rarely anyone to guide the new moms and dads through the maze that is parenting. Without guidance, many parents lack a program of discipline and structure; as a result the kids are wandering through their lives aimless and disgruntled.

If you don’t want to have a baby, I mean REALLY want to have a baby, don’t have one. I don’t care how much your mom/gramma/friends bug you or how much society says you are incomplete without a child; don’t listen. It’s not true. There are plenty of couples who have great marriages without kids. Not having children is a perfectly respectable decision. Some couples are terrified that kids are going to change their relationship, and they would be correct! Having children forever changes the relationship you have with your spouse. A child will change everything about your life, and if it doesn’t, you’re not doing it right. The time it takes to be a good parent is immeasurable. I believe that parenting is a gift, but sometimes it feels like a booby prize that has been left flaming upon your doorstep. It takes infinite patience. It takes a long view. It takes a plan to do it right. Parenting is not something you wake up and decide to try on like a pair of shoes.  Also, having a baby just to have someone who loves you completely is faulty logic. For the first few years, your baby relies completely upon YOU loving HER and YOU being there 24-7 to attend to HER needs, not the other way around. It is a weighty responsibility. If you want constant devotion with very little input from you, I highly recommend getting a dog.

A few years ago, my 16 year-old daughter was talking to a pregnant girl in her class (I know, it makes me sad, too) about her choice of keeping her baby. This young girl said she was keeping her baby, because she didn’t believe in adoption. How can you not believe in adoption? I can see not believing in abortion, but adoption? This is a girl with a non-supportive family and no job prospects who was planning on dropping out of school to raise her baby on her own. My daughter’s response was, “Oh so you don’t believe in giving your baby a chance at a life with parents who really can and want to raise a child”…okay, perhaps she doesn’t receive the sensitivity award, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t speak the truth! No matter what your situation is, you always have choices. The choice to become a parent will change your life forever; you need to be really sure that’s what you want.

There is no one right answer; everyone’s situation is different. The right choice is only the right choice for right now. That means perhaps adoption is the right choice today, if you’re 16 with no support; that doesn’t mean you can’t be a parent later. If, as a society, we gave more respect to the decision to remain childless, perhaps people who weren’t cut out to be parents would decide to continue being part of the support system for their relatives, basking in a life of marker free walls and late night movies while reaping the joy of sending highly inappropriate drum sets to their nieces and nephews!

As I was sitting down to work on my book today, I thought about the life coaching mantra of meeting your client where they are….not where you think they ought to be. This has been a big challenge for me. Because I’m a mender by nature, I just want to fix their pain. I can listen to their story and see a way out, so, by golly, I’m going to push them in that direction. Because everyone wants to be happy, right, and the quicker they get there the better, right? Wrong! Pushing someone to be happy completely short-circuits the lessons that come from pain and sadness. Everyone’s journey involves pain and sadness; who am I to determine what is best for my client?

This leads me to the reason that I’m writing this blog post instead of working on my book. I’m meeting myself where I am this morning. I’m recovering from a nasty cold, and I feel beat up. I don’t have the mental acuity to work on my book today. My first instinct was to push through the pain to a result…to be just as results oriented as I tend to be with my clients. Because if the saying, “you have to live it to give it” is true, then I AM my own client. In the words of Bridgette Boudreau, “in practicing live it to give it, you go first.” So what does that look like? It looks like acceptance. I accept that I feel pretty crummy today; I accept that I only want to write a short blog post instead of working on a chapter in my book; and I accept that today is about listening to my body’s needs and wants, schedule be damned. I am meeting myself where I am. I invite you all to try this today. Get very quiet and acknowledge how you are feeling. Then take that information and apply it to your TODO list. If you are feeling sort of slug-like, perhaps you push a few things to the Universe’s side of the list. If you are flying high, perhaps you take a few more things on your side and help the Universe out (I’m referring to my Energy Worthy Worksheet; e-mail me at terri@alifeinbalance.com if you would like a copy). Just for today, meet yourself where you really are and notice the difference it makes in your day. And now I'm going to take a hot shower and get real friendly with my neti pot!

Terri Fedonczak here from A Life in Balance Coaching, bringing you a deeper understanding of the technology of magic with Martha Beck's (yup, the one in Oprah magazine all the time) newest book. I will bring my big wacky sense of humor along with my calm & comfortable coaching style to the club...all you have to bring is your own sweet self. It's just $49 for 5 weeks with me. What are you waiting for, Wild Thing? Click play and let's boogie. 

Here's the snazzy jazzy video where you can rock out to Wild Thing

And here's the video where I tell you how much I love this book.  Please watch them both.  Then sign up for my book club right here.  See you tomorrow, Thursday, January 19, 2012 at 12pm EST.

We life coaches love our metaphors. If you are a frequent visitor to this blog, you know that my Mom passed away in August after a two month dance with cancer. I haven’t written much more than journal entries since she passed away, because I haven’t felt like working...or playing for that matter. I’ve been in the throes of Square 1; learning how to live as an adult child without parents. I’ve been hunkering down and just putting one foot in front of the other for 5 months. I’m fortunate that I’m not alone on this journey; I am surrounded by friends and clients. Some of my clients have morphed into friends. One of these earth angels has introduced me to a new hobby: knitting. Suffice it to say that I have never knitted, sewn, crocheted or any number of other crafts that I have heretofore thought were...well, kinda’ lame. I was wrong. Up until I picked up those needles, you would have been hard pressed to get me to stop moving long enough to do anything except read a book or watch a movie. That is my journey: to learn how to be still. In Square 1 there’s not a lot of movement; that’s why I wore it like a hair shirt. But now I crave knitting. Why? Let me tell you how yarn and needles have allowed me to re-fashion the fabric of my life (metaphor alert)!

Knitting is like the journey to my right life in so many ways:

1. Knitting has its own pace; if you try to hurry it, you will drop a stitch and damage the integrity of the fabric. If you try to anticipate the stitch that’s coming up, you might miss the stitch that you’re working on. You may be able to look ahead in the pattern, but you can’t jump ahead 10 stitches…that would leave big holes in your fabric. It doesn’t matter that the pattern changes further down the row, the only stitch you can knit is the one you’re on. If you pay attention to just the next stitch long enough, then you will have something fully formed between your fingers. It’s almost as if your life grows in your hands, stitch by stitch. I’m not quite sure what the finished product will look like, but I do know that as I knit, I love the feel of the fabric in my hands. And I love the thought that one stitch in front of the other join together to make something bigger than each individual stitch ever imagined.
2. In order to produce a work of complexity and beauty, you need a pattern. My life’s work is to work my life, or play my life, as Martha Beck urges. Sometimes, when you’re in the details of the work, it’s difficult to see its shape. Even when it doesn’t seem like your project will look like anything special, if you just keep following the pattern stitch by stitch, you will complete that beautiful project. It may not look just like the picture, because it’s YOUR project. I can try to use someone else’s pattern, but the only one that will produce the garment I want is the pattern of my right life, drawn by my stargazer self and stitched by my essential self.
3. Sometimes when you’re working on a project that has a lot of complexity, you need to use markers to remind you when the stitch changes. It’s difficult to remember each change in the pattern without these little markers; it requires time and effort that are better spent actually doing the work of stitching. My markers are my family. When I see the look of concern in my daughters’ eyes that I’m pushing myself too hard, or the gentle nudge that my husband gives me to slow down, I know that I can’t go on in the same way. My markers tell me when I need to make a change in my style of knitting, because to go on in the same manner would disrupt the pattern of my project.
4. Sometimes you have to start over. Even when you’ve put a lot of time and effort into a project, if you’ve dropped a stitch or split a stitch it mars the fabric of your work. Sometimes you can repair it, but you have to stop and notice where the mar is in order to repair it. And sometimes the only way to maintain the integrity of the finished project is to unravel your work and start all over again. If your stitch is incongruent with the vision of the finished project, you are better off just scrapping it. It doesn’t matter how inconvenient it is or how frustrating or how much your auntie will tut-tut at you; it’s worth the effort to maintain the integrity of a fabric well crafted.

When I’m finished knitting these scarves, my plan is to give them to each of my girls to keep them warm…so that they are wearing something that came from me. They will wear the scarves and know that I love them. Hopefully, they will see that all any of us can do is go stitch by stitch towards the pattern of our lives.

I wanted to take this chance to thank all of you who have supported me throughout this 2011 year of trials and tribulations. This goes out to my tribe of coaches, clients, family and friends. It has been an honor and a privilege to work with you, laugh with you and cry with you. To those of you who have small children, here's a tip from your future...Christmas is infinitely easier when Santa comes out of the closet! I was in bed by 10:30, and only woke up early because of my giant turkey (no, my hubbie wasn't thrashing in his sleep, the bird had to go in the oven, yuk, yuk). Here's to a blessed Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, Merry Kwanza and a joyous Festivus!

Love,

Terri

After searching for this for the last two months, I finally found it yesterday. I knew I was writing something just before things went very bad, very fast with my Mom’s health. She passed away about 4 hours after I closed my computer:

 8/15/11: Yesterday I was listening to a tele-course, and I had a striking moment of clarity. These don’t happen all that often, so I thought I would share it! The tele-course was taught by the fabulous Brooke Castillo, and the subject matter was Martha Beck’s incredible book, Finding Your Own North Star. Brooke said, and I’m paraphrasing, that the “ick factor” is a message from your essential self that you’re not acting in an authentic manner. I have always had the lowest “ick” tolerance of anyone I know.  Except in a case of emergency, (if my kids are bleeding or hurt, the “ick” is suspended) anything to do with bodily functions makes me want to hurl. I have never pulled one of my kids’ teeth, because it makes my skin crawl to think of it. When my Mom was bedridden many years ago, I had to grit my teeth every time she needed assistance with anything physical. Today, as I’m writing this, I’m sitting by my Mom’s bedside bearing witness while she slowly retreats from this life. There is nothing she needs that I won’t do. For the first time in my life, I am dealing with the worst possible physical symptoms without a trace of “ick”. I’m not sure why, but I am sure that my best and highest self is all about bringing comfort. Right now, the only thing I can do for my Mom is to make her comfortable and, in so doing, show her how much I love her.

The reason I'm posting this is that I had a dream last night about my Mom. I don't remember the dream at all, but I wrote something down before it slipped away completely. My dream journal said that in the dream "my Mom was alive and that she was begging me to let her go." So this morning I went paddleboarding for the first time since my Mom got sick. You see, that was our thing. She would take her walker, her glass of iced tea and her dog out in her backyard and watch for me on my board. After a beautiful time on the water this morning, I was paddling home and saw my Mom's chair...sitting right where she left it. As I sat down on my board to cry, a snowy egret landed right in front of the chair, looked at me and then flew away. Okay, I get it. She's gone, and I'm still here...and we're both okay. We may not be the same, but we're okay. As I surf the waters of Square 1, I will take my paddleboard with me. And when I pass my Mom's chair I will remember that the best way to honor her memory is to take her with me on this journey...let her sassiness and her humor lighten my days. I have missed writing; I've missed my work, and I've missed connecting with my community. I feel that it's time to let go of grieving my Mom and begin to live again.

This is a poem that my beautiful 17 year old, Alyssa, wrote for her Creative Writing class...yet another reason that I adore this child!

Dear Grandma,
Could you please come to visit?
You left before I realized
How much I would miss you.

I need back my last day with you
So I could see your face glow
Your teeth glisten with unsweet tea
Hear you insult my outfit
And tell me how beautiful I am
Cook me burnt bacon
and soggy eggs
Cough stories of your youth
Whisper back to drunken nights
Laugh over broken hearts
Weep lost loves
Thank me for listening

Then I would squeeze your frail bones
Avoiding flimsy oxygen tubes
Pain killer charts
Hospice how to's
I'd promise to see you later in the week
Because I believed I would.

I know you can't come
But I hope you get this
So you know how sorry I am
for not visiting more,
ignoring your advice,
taking your spirit for granted.
Mom hasn't been the same
since you left.
Her smile isn't sunshine,
just partly cloudy
with a chance of showers.
None of us expected to miss you
this much.
But we should have.

For those of you who couldn't make it to my Mom's funeral, I wanted to share my speech. Delivering it was one of the most difficult, yet freeing, things I've ever done. I could feel my Mom's spirit with me as I spoke; I think she was pleased.

Good morning. I would like to thank all of you for coming today; my Momma would be tickled pink! As most of you know, my Mother was a bigger than life character.  She had an iron will, a superhuman tolerance for pain and a razor sharp sense of humor.  She did not suffer fools or tolerate self-pity. I spent a lot of years being mad at my Mom, because she wasn’t like my friends’ moms. She didn’t clean; she didn’t like to shop; she wasn’t a cuddler, and she rarely cooked anything but eggs and bacon that she called “very crisp” and anyone else would call burned. The exception to her no cooking rule was an amazingly tasty apple pie…go figure! She was not the person you wanted to go to if you were sick. Unless you were bleeding from your eyes or had a temperature of 104, you were expected to suck it up and get on with it. However, what my Mom did very well was to listen and problem-solve; there was no obstacle too big for her to overcome.

About 10 years ago, she broke her back by falling in front of the chiropractor’s office; I know that sounds like a punch line to a bad joke, but it’s true. She called me to pick her up and take her to the hospital. On the way to the E.R., she made me stop at the Black Angus and pick her up some iced tea. I protested, because I could see she was in a lot of pain; when my mom was in pain, there was something very wrong. I said, “Mom, we need to get you to the hospital; I think you’ve really hurt yourself.” She replied, “I’m fine, Teresa, you worry too much. Just stop and get me my darn tea.” She didn’t really say darn. In the hospital, the doctor came in to tell us that she had fractured her vertebrae. He pulled me aside and said, “At her age, people rarely recover from a fracture like this. You need to prepare yourself that this could be the beginning of the end.” I managed not to laugh in his face, because he was being so serious and kind. But I did say, “You don’t know my Mom.” She was driving her stick shift convertible BMW two months later.

In the last 6 weeks since my mom received her terminal diagnosis, I have spent more one on one time with her than in the last 6 years. And in that time, I realized something. She was exactly the right Mom for me. She taught me that there was nothing I couldn’t do if I put my mind to it and refused to take “no” for an answer. She taught me that all people deserve a chance at happiness, and it was my responsibility to help those less fortunate than I. She taught me that there’s nothing so serious that you can’t find something about it that’s funny, and by doing so, you can break a big hairy problem down to a solvable size. But the most important thing she taught me was that life is not a spectator sport. Every day is a chance to do something meaningful. On the last day she could speak to me, she told me: to stop crying, that she had no regrets, that she had lived 90 incredible years, and that she was ready to go. My Mom lived a BIG life. She led by example, and she left ripples of her indomitable spirit all over this world. Now it’s time for me to try and fill the biggest pair of size 6 shoes there ever was.

I'm in a challenging place right now, and my knee jerk reaction was to figure out how to FIX IT. People close to me are very sick, and all I can think of is what I can do to help them. Night and day, the thought ran through my head that I should be able to help. I'm a Life Coach; I should be able to make them feel better, dammit, at least mentally. The more I let this thought run me, the tighter and more anxious I became. As I'm writing this, I can feel my shoulders tighten and inch their way toward my ears...deep breath, shoulders down and back. The other thought that played leapfrog with the first was, "I can't handle this; I'm not strong enough." The old me would never have let this thought see the light of day, so its mere existence is progress. With both of these thoughts running around in my mind, I felt like a hamster on a wheel....running, running, running looking for something to do. I stopped meditating, I stopped journaling, I stopped exercising, and I began to crave sweets and fat and salt, oh my!

While searching for something to do, I went outside to water my flowers. The hose that is usually nearby was missing. So I picked up a watering can and went to fill it at the spigot. As I carried the watering can back to give my flowers a drink, I had an epiphany. As long as I filled my can, I could water all the flowers I wanted. I could water all day long, and the spigot would never run dry. However, without filling my bucket first, all that water was useless and the flowers would die. I could not help anyone else, no matter how badly they needed it, until I filled my own bucket. I went straight inside and pulled out my journal, then I went paddle boarding, and then I meditated. The rest of the day felt more balanced; like I had awakened from a fuzzy dream. Are you forgetting to fill your own bucket in the race of trying to out-busy your neighbor? Are you at the top of your own priority list; are you on the list at all? Today, stop and think of one thing you could do just for yourself. It doesn’t have to be huge or expensive; it could be sitting for 15 minutes listening to your favorite music by yourself, sipping a cool glass of tea. Just do one thing that makes you smile, and tomorrow do two things. You will be amazed at how much more joyful your busy will be!

Yesterday I went paddle boarding on a day best spent indoors; the heat was
stifling. I started early, hoping I would get back before my brain baked. I
was paddling into the wind as I started, so I wasn't too hot. However, I was
going against the current, so my progress was slow and sweaty. The whole way
I kept thinking, "I can't wait to turn around, so that I'm going with the
current! It will be so much easier!". So I got to my half-way point and
turned around; and the wind died. I spent a good 5 minutes in despair; "It's
so hot, what am I going to do, I feel like I'm gonna' pass out; why did the
freakin' wind die?" And then I realized that the wind didn't die; it was now
at my back. The current was pushing me, and the wind was pushing the
current. Duh! That's how current is made, by wind pushing water. So you can
have the wind in your face, cooling you off and creating a current for you
to work against, or the wind at your back, carrying you along without the
benefit of nature's A/C. At the moment I had this epiphany I stopped wishing
for something else and started looking around. I noticed the beauty of the
trees bowing down to kiss the water, the sound of my board gliding through
the bayou, the call of the osprey warning me away from the babies in her
nest, and the sheer joy of being able to sweat after long months of surgery
and recovery. All that wishing for something to be different robbed me of
the ability to notice how great things were right here, right now. It
reminds me of the immortal words of George Carlin, "You can't have
everything, where would you put it?"

Last week was my daughter’s birthday; let’s call her K. It makes me remember the days of my divorce when I thought I would never again have a reason to smile about my daughter. During the divorce, my ex decided that he would use the kids to try and guilt me into coming back. He told our eldest that it was all my fault that we weren't a family anymore, and further that my brother and sister were not her family (she was 3 1/2). Hence, every time we went to my siblings' house, she would refuse to get out of the car, crying that they weren't her family. So my only support system became a source of more stress, and the daughter who I adored became the cause of frustration and tears. One day my Mom took me aside and said, "You need to sit down and listen for a minute. I was talking with K about you the other day, and she said, "I don't think my mommy likes me very much." I thought I was trying so hard to hide my frustration with her...not so much. The thought of this conversation still makes my heart break. In the ensuing years, my relationship with K has been rocky, with me trying desperately to protect her from harm, and her trying just as desperately to shake the yoke of my concern. During my journey through cancer and life coach training, I realized that I wasn't protecting K., I was just mucking up her own journey. So, I dropped the rope and started seeing this amazing kid for exactly who she is, vulnerabilities and strengths combined. We now have a much easier bond, and it feels light and vibrant. Yesterday she asked me what she should wear to her job interview, sending me a picture of her choice for me to approve. It was such a small thing, but it made me cry with gratitude. My question to you, dear reader, is where are you locked into a tug of war with someone and why? Do you think that you will change their mind or their actions by forcing them to see “the truth”; whose truth is it? What if you just dropped the rope and put all that energy into loving yourself? What if you treated yourself the way you want your adversary to treat you?

I posted on my teen blog this week about sex. I was completely comfortable with my post until I thought about parents reading it; then I got all squirmy. Isn’t that interesting? I have no problem talking to the kids about sex, but talking to the parents about kids having sex gives me the heebie jeebies. It’s a weird double standard, but I don’t believe I’m alone. As parents, there’s a part of us that resembles an ostrich; if we bury our head in the sand about our kids having sex, then everything will somehow turn out okay. There is a reason the ostrich is not valued for its intelligence.

Sex is undoubtedly difficult to discuss with your teenager. I know this because I have three teenagers, and when I bring up the subject they cover their ears and start humming. However, since I began the sex talks when the subject first came up naturally in middle school, I know that they already understand the basics. The best time to start talking to your kids about sex is when they bring it up. If that chance has passed, not to worry. It’s better late than never.  After all, if you don’t answer their questions, they will go to their friends; who knows where their friends got their information.

            No matter how much we deny that our precious babies could be sexually active, they probably are. No amount of wishing it weren’t so is going to change that fact. However, the likelihood of them having sex is indirectly proportional to how much you talk with them about sex; notice I said with, not to. The more you share your views and values surrounding sex and then ask them to talk about the same information, the more likely they will be to at least think about the act before they commit it.  Whatever your views are, they had better be honest. If you were a horn-dog in high school and then try to preach abstinence until marriage, your kids will smell a rat. Then they will dismiss anything else you say. I have told my girls that sex is like a tattoo on your face; you have to be really sure it’s what you want, because there’s no return policy on the decision. When they’re sure they love the person, (because sex should be the ultimate demonstration of love, not a form of cardio), then they must discuss birth control with their potential partner. If they aren’t comfortable enough to discuss birth control, they sure as hell aren’t ready to have sex with that person.

            The most important thing when discussing sex with your child is to be truthful. If it makes you uncomfortable, say so. If you’re scared about their answer, tell them. But also be sure to let them know that no matter how bad it gets, you are there for them. You love them enough to persevere, even when it’s uncomfortable. Sex in today’s society is confusing for adults; imagine how scary it is for teens. The rules are constantly changing; girls are ridiculed for being a virgin, but they’re blasted for being a tramp if they have sex. It’s madness, and your teen could really use your support.

While on an “All About Me” trip to the Lake Austin Spa, I had an epiphany. On said trip I left my beloved spouse in a dicey situation. He injured himself and was in a great deal of unexplained pain. I had the spa trip planned for months, but on the way to the airport, I started having second thoughts. What if it’s something really serious? Shouldn’t I stay in case I’m needed? How thoughtless of me to go on a spa trip when my sweetie is in pain. I offered to cancel, and he refused, saying, “What can you do?” i thought, "I know what I can do…I can worry about him! Better yet, I can cancel a trip that I so desperately need in order to stay home and worry with and about him. Isn’t that what a loving spouse should do? "Let’s look at that thought for a moment; is that really true?  Is worrying about someone a way to show you care? Worrying seems helpful, like a frantic form of compassion. However, in the end, worrying is an energy sucking vortex that changes nothing.

In our culture, worrying is seen as an act of kindness; if we love someone and they have a problem, worrying about them will show them that we care, right? Wrong!  The only thing worrying accomplishes is to trap negative energy in our body, creating a buffet of illnesses, including migraines, TMJ, ulcers and acid reflux (all of which I have had at one point or another) without conveying love to the worry-ee.  In fact, the exact opposite is often true. The object of your worry feels suffocated by all that negative energy. The “What ifs” feel like a curse, not a comfort.

So what is the answer? The universal answer to every problem: love. Let the person for whom you have concern know that you love them. If they express a need (comforting words, a hug, a bucket of chocolate), and you have the tools to fulfill that need without sapping your own energy supply, go for it! Call or visit with a token of your appreciation, a hug, or the whole right side of the Godiva store…whatever tickles your fancy. However, if you’re gearing up for a big ole’ worry-fest by wringing your hands and imagining every worse-case scenario, I say, “Skip it!” It won’t do any good anyway.  All the worrying in the world, or wishing for that matter, will not change the past. That’s why they call it the past…it’s passed, done, finito! Instead, why not put all that worry energy (wor-nergy?) into showing the object of your worry how much you love them? That kind of energy has a healing effect on both the giver and receiver.

What, you may ask, did I do? Since I wrote this from the plane, I didn’t cancel my trip. Instead, I gathered the troops to take over the doctor’s appointments and application of ice packs, and I took my depleted self to the one place on Earth I can always recharge. The troops didn’t mind helping; they knew I would do the same thing for them if they asked. My husband didn’t mind; he’s whacked out on pain meds waiting for tests to figure out what’s wrong. There was very little chance that the tests can even be scheduled for a few days, and I would be back by then. Since I’m not a doctor, I couldn’t do any more than ice packs and doctor’s appointments. I kept telling myself, “Whatever comes of the next few days at home, I will be much better able to help when I return with a refreshed mind and body.” Everything turned out just fine, by the way. I guess it can all be summed up in the immortal words of Bobby McFerrin, “Don’t worry, be happy,” because you certainly can’t do both.

Yesterday was the best Mother's Day ever, and I'm trying to figure out why. I think it had something to do with a conversation I had with a dear friend last week regarding “being selfish”. She told me the story in her family of origin is that she's the selfish one. So, to avoid fulfilling that role, she has spent her life putting the needs of others ahead of her own, to the detriment of herself and her family. When I asked if she was selfish, she couldn't answer. When I asked if she were looking at another woman who did the same things she did, would she say SHE was selfish; her immediate answer was, "No!" However, the “selfish” story has kept her from taking time for herself, to rest and recover when she needed it; the story kept her on a hamster wheel of always running to do the next thing to prove that she wasn't “selfish”. I was reminded of the speech they give on an airplane before takeoff. We've all heard it, but I wonder if you've ever really listened. The flight attendant instructs you to put on your own oxygen mask before assisting your child. Your instinct as a mother is to attend to your child's needs first, but you can't help your child if you're passed out on the floor.

So today, I put on my oxygen mask first. I went paddle-boarding for an hour this morning, where I saw a Mama Cow Ray and her baby (so incredibly cool) and immersed myself in the finest form of environmental therapy. My “me” time meant that I arrived a bit late for my husband's Mother's Day brunch, but nobody seemed to mind. After a lovely brunch with my whole family, I headed off to a massage and a day at the movies. I invited any one of my daughters and/or my husband to join me, but there was no question that I was going to sit in a darkened theater and really escape. My family did end up joining me, and it was a blast. I returned home to cards and homemade presents, hugs and kisses, and enough love to make my heart swell to dangerous proportions. Yesterday, I was able to appreciate the beauty of my family from a well oxygenated space. A space from which I can parent like the Mom I want to be, not the hamster-on-the-wheel Mom who only pauses long enough to find the next thing to do. I can’t think of a better way to teach my kids to value themselves, to show them that putting their own self care first is the furthest thing from being selfish. So which will you choose today, oxygen mask or hamster wheel?

Parenting is a job; it’s the most important job you will ever have. If you do it right, you will produce little people that will carry on your thoughts, your ideas, and your traditions, while at the same time pursuing their own independent lives. Then your children will produce little people who will carry on your thoughts, your ideas and your traditions. Being a parent is the only path to immortality (despite the recent rise in vampire shows and literature). Jackie Onassis said it best, “If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do matters very much.”

Consider the weight of this responsibility the next time you are tempted to give in on a battle with your kids; a battle that you know you should stick with until you win. Sometimes it’s so tiring being a parent, it’s easier just to let them stay up past bedtime or go out to the mall with that friend who you think is a little morally shaky. But you have to remember how important every skirmish is.  If you win the small battles, then winning the wars (smoking, drugs, drinking, sex) will be so much easier.  Your kids are looking to you to set the parameters of their behavior. They don’t really want to be in charge (no matter how many times they roll their eyes at your rules). If they don’t have to think about who’s in charge, they have the freedom to just be a kid…to play and develop their own unique personality.