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Seasons of Motherhood

March 11, 2013 by Neena 2 Comments

It’s 65+ degrees right now and I’m sitting in my backyard staring at the barren trees. There are a few tufts of grass greening up and poking through, but the trees continue to show the remnants of a cold Winter. Within another month those trees will be bursting with various shades of green and some will even shower us with flowers that almost make the trees look like they are covered in snow. So quickly this back yard will change from dry and see-through to lush and full.

Motherhood often makes me feel the same way.

I have moments of parenthood that feel more like the naked landscape of winter – where I am barely holding on while wondering ff things will ever change into something more. These are the moments where I question if I am a good parent. Do I love my kids enough? Am I doing enough to make sure they are learning what it means to be humble or sensitive or inclusive? Am I making the right choices for schools and extracurricular experiences? Should I help them floss better? Should I be teaching them to do their own laundry or giving them more time to just be children?

These are the thought that run through my head while I’m trying to fall asleep. Am I doing enough?

Strangely, though, in such a quick moment things can change. It’s a split second really. In the midst of questioning if I am doing enough or if I doing it correctly I see something emerge from my children.

My 5 year old looks at me and tells me that she won’t sing taunting cheers with her softball teammates because she doesn’t want the other team to have hurt feelings.

Or when my 8 year old asks if she can use her own money to buy bird seed so she can be prepared if the barn swallows come back this Spring to live on our porch.

Or when my 7 year old who tries to turn away when another kid in his karate class is testing for a stripe because he truly believes that one less person watching might keep this kids from getting nervous.

These moments help me to believe that I must be doing something right. I must be getting it right somehow.

I don’t see these moments everyday. Or maybe I’m just not noticing them on a daily basis. Maybe I should.

Because I need these moments. I need them to pull me through when I’m so unsure of my ability to be a good mother to these amazing little people. I need them as reminders that there is so much good happening even when there is a tantrum or spill or sibling spat over toys. All those must be growing moments as well – even if I fail to see it in the moment.

But for now I’ll keep watching the grass. I’ll listen to the last of the dry leaves rustle. I’ll remember that motherhood will have its seasons and, just as my children, my yard, and my parenting abilities wilt and struggle so will they emerge and grow.

This post was inspired by Raising Cubby: A Father and Son’s Adventures with Asperger’s, Trains, Tractors, and High Explosives by John Elder Robison. Parenting is a challenging job, but what challenges does a parent with Asperger’s face? Join From Left to Write on March 12 as we discussRaising Cubby. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Filed Under: book club, book review, books, motherhood, reflection, Uncategorized

One of my biggest fears

February 7, 2013 by Neena 9 Comments

I have a few pretty common fears – heights, snakes, spiders. Some of my fears are a bit more irrational – driving on the Interstate, using public restrooms. But I have one fear that has plagued me since I became a mother 8 year ago.

I am terrified of becoming a widow.

My husband and I were married a couple of years before we ever had children. I never thought about becoming a widow then. Maybe it’s because we were so young and our marriage was so new. In many ways I felt invincible – thinking that it would be 50 or 60 years before we ever dealt with anything related to one of us passing away.

But the years moved on, we had three children, and suddenly the end became more real. We started talking retirement, life insurance, making wills, and final wishes. We made plans for the “someday” and it hit me that the “someday” could actually be anytime.

See, I’m not afraid of becoming a widow in 60 years. By that time we will have had an amazing amount of time to share our journey. We would have written our love story, seen it played out for a few generations, and be ready for the finality that comes with growing old.

My fear is that it will happen before all that. I don’t want to become a widow before my husband and I have even had a chance to really live. 10 years of marriage isn’t long enough. We haven’t done enough yet. There are dreams to live out, kids to watch grow, morning to stay in bed with our coffee, and the rest of our story to write. I am afraid that the other shoe will drop and my happy ending will be cut short.

I know how important it is to be grateful for every day – Carpe Diem and all that. And I do my best to exist with the understanding that I must appreciate and embrace every moment I’m given with my family. And I certainly don’t let this fear take away from living. But, if we’re being real – if we are putting all our cards on the table – I am afraid this amazing man I married will leave me too soon. I may never be ready to let him go, but I need my 60 years. It’ll take at least that long to show him how much he means to me.

This post was inspired by Saturday Night Widows by Becky Aikman. After being kicked out of her widow support group for being too young, Becky creates her own support group with an unusual twist. Join From Left to Write on February 14 as we discuss Saturday Night Widows. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Filed Under: book club

Reliving a Piece of History

September 24, 2012 by Neena 7 Comments

I was never a student of history. I always struggled in the numerous history classes I was required to take because they were usually full of boring lectures and memorization of dates. I wasn’t intrigued. Some people claim to be history buffs. They love certain periods, thrive on reading and absorbing as much of a past culture and understanding as possible. That’s never been me. Sometimes I wish I could say that I love learning about past periods in time. It would almost be like reliving a brief moment of time in the midst of our present day chaos.

While I can’t say that I’ll ever be one to dive into the past with the vigor of a history buff, I will admit that if I could relive a moment of history I’d travel back to one specific place…

Walden Pond.

For two years Thoreau lived in a secluded cabin where he embraced the essence of a simple life. He practiced self-reliance, took his own voyage of spiritual discovery, and was the epitome of a transcendentalist.

This is the time and place I’d choose to relive.

I’ve written before how I long for a life less tied to the chaos and fast pace of our lives. I’ve dreamed for years of a small farm where my family is able to connect and live a life apart from all the distractions. I long for morning walks in the woods, the sounds of nature lulling me to sleep, the hard labor that leaves a body exhausted and satisfied at the end of a long day.

I long for those moments of pure escape in a book, a piece of writing, or a conversation with God – where the quiet can last hours and days. I would love to remove the distractions so that I can not only hear, but genuinely listen to everything that surrounds me.

Could I survive if I took away all the luxuries and frivolous aspects of life? More importantly – would I thrive? Would I end up loving it as much in reality as I do in my imagination? Would I treat such an experience as an experiment as Thoreau did and return to ‘civilization?’ Or would I find a new home among the wild and uninhabited space of my own Walden Pond…

This post is inspired by The Blood Letter’s Daughter by Linda Lafferty. Inspired by a real-life murder that threatened to topple the powerful Hapsburg dynasty in the 17th century, The Bloodletter’s Daughter imagines how one young woman holds more power than she thought possible. Join From Left to Write on September 25 as we discuss the The Bloodletter’s Daughter. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Filed Under: book club

Advocating for my child

September 5, 2012 by Neena 12 Comments

From the moment Jacob was born in 2005 he was an unhappy baby. He arrived at 37 weeks and weighed 8 pounds 8 ounces.

A big baby, yes, but a terribly unhappy baby.

While in the hospital he dealt with jaundice and spent a couple of days under the bili lights. This wasn’t new to us since our oldest came home with bili light in tow. His levels never reached a dangerous point, but they were high enough to be a concern. That issue seemed to sort itself out rather quickly and we took him home from the hospital as scheduled.

Within the first two weeks we noticed that the child just cried. CRIED. Cried for hours and hours and hours. I know babies tend to cry and have moments of complete fits, but this seemed different. Something about my motherly instinct was on alert. I admit that I tried to ignore it based on advice I received from anyone and everyone around me. He’s just a little colicky. He’s going to be fine – babies just cry. Are you using the 5 S’s with him? It didn’t help that my husband was traveling nearly 80 percent of the time and I was left home trying to decipher exactly what I was doing wrong as a mother to have such an unhappy baby. Along with the crying he had trouble eating and went through bouts of severe spit-up to the point where he couldn’t keep anything down. He also made constant noises when he breathed as if something was lodged in his throat. Nothing I did could make that little boy happy.

I brought up my concerns every time we went to the pediatrician. Weekly visits, monthly visits – each time I was just dismissed as having a fussy baby. But I knew. I knew something was wrong with my child.

After two months of struggles, severe lack of sleep, a husband who was constantly traveling, and enough tears to fill an ocean I went back to the pediatrician determined to be heard. This time we saw a new doctor – a young man who to this day is known as a God send! I burst into tears in front of this man. I cried and told him that something was wrong with my child but that nobody seemed to believe me. He put his hand on my shoulder, looked me directly in the eyes and said ‘I believe you.’

Almost instantly the weight began to lift. Someone was listening to me. Someone was giving me the time and attention I needed to figure out what was wrong with my baby. He took tons of notes, asked extremely detailed questions, and gave us referrals to a pediatric ENT to confirm his diagnosis: Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease and Stridor. Essentially my poor baby’s stomach couldn’t handle anything and, combined with the Stridor, was making it difficult to breathe. We left with samples of a new formula and a prescription to help with the reflux.

I can’t remember for sure but I’m pretty certain I collapsed from exhaustion and relief when we arrived home. And within 48 hours of trying the new formula and medicine it was like I had a different child. A typical, happy, snuggly baby. I felt like I had been given a miracle. We followed up with the specialists and had to watch our baby go through an upper GI, but we were given answers. The diagnosis was confirmed and I had the resources and knowledge to take care of my little boy.

In all honesty he still cried a good bit even with the diagnosis which we chucked up to healing and maybe a bit of colic. But, he was getting better and that’s all I needed.

To this day I remember the frustration I felt when nobody would listen to me. I wanted to advocate for my son, but it was extremely difficult to do so when very few would listen to my instincts. I have no words for how wonderful that young doctor was to us that day I broke into tears in his exam room. He listened when no one else would. He later left the practice to go work at a Children’s Hospital in Atlanta, but he left me with the confidence I needed to always advocate for my children. I’ll always be thankful for that.

Over time Jacob continued to improve and was able to stop taking the medicine. He grew out of the Stridor and has become an amazingly healthy and happy 7 year old. I’m so glad I don’t have to think about who he would have been had I not pushed for someone…anyone to help my child.

How far would you go to advocate for your child? In January First, father Michael Shofield and his family struggle to find the right treatment for his daughter Jani, who was diagnosed with schizophrenia at six years old. Join From Left to Write on September 6th as we discuss the Shofield’s memoir January First. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Filed Under: book club, jacob, Uncategorized

My stories to tell…

August 29, 2012 by Neena 9 Comments

I started blogging in 2007 just before my youngest daughter was born. I immediately became fascinated by this idea of an online journal – a digital recording of my story. But as I looked in my closet this morning for something to wear I took notice of this…

This is a stack of journals dating back to 6th grade. That was 1990 if you care to do the math. And I was hit with this sudden realization that essentially I was a blogger long before there ever was such a thing.

Those journals tell my story starting from the moment I realized I had a story to tell. They are filled with quotes, musings, love-sick tales, anger, sadness, confusion, and accounts of perfect moments from my history. Well, as much emotion as one can muster while rocking the teased bangs and the pegged pants of my adolescence. They hold all my stories for the last 22 years. I can look through those journals, read those words, and have a perfect account of every emotion I felt when I first met my husband and our journey together. I can even look at the small journal he brought me on the night he proposed with my ring tied securely to the ribbon bookmark.

So many of my stories sit on that shelf – hiding behind fabric covers and spiral binding. I don’t look through them very often. In many ways I don’t feel that I need to. I know they’re there and there is a safety in their shelved existence. Someday my children as going to ask about my story – who I was as a girl, a young adult, a new bride, and a mother. I’ll share snippets with them – keeping certain experiences within the walls of my heart. But someday when I’m long gone I know that my story – however exciting or traditional or extraordinary it may turn out to be – will be left behind. And they’ll have the option to learn a little bit about the woman who was their mother.

Maybe they won’t see these as much more than the ramblings of a silly girl. And that’s okay…because to me they are simply and honestly the words of my one and only life. And I choose to leave them behind.

This post is inspired by Sarah McCoy’s The Baker’s Daughter. In a small Texan town, Reba discovers Elsie’s German Bakery and falls in love with more than the pastries. Shes drawn to Elsie’s life in Germany during the last year of WWII. Join From Left to Write on August 29 as we discuss The Baker’s Daughter. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Filed Under: book club, reflection

Who are we really?

June 12, 2012 by Neena 17 Comments

One of the interesting things about having a blog is that we bloggers essentially get to present whatever we want to the world. We can be prettier, thinner, more creative and crafty, and more put together than we are in real life. We can show the good pictures, tell the most interesting stories, and choose what details to include and which ones to leave out.

This begs to question how well we ever really know anyone – especially those we meet online. How much do we really know about the folks we interact with on Twitter and different social media sites? How much can we really trust the woman who shares stories of her husband’s crazy antics. Should we room with someone at a conference that we’ve only ever met through a blog?

I like to believe, though, that most of the bloggers I know and read are as honest and real as they present themselves. I like to think the best about people and believe that the level of vulnerability they show in their spaces is a genuine reflection of who they are. When we read about their experiences and adventures and interact together we begin to trust one another in ways that lead to relationships and bonds and communities of what we trust to be authenticity.

There needs to be trust. We need to trust one another and the stories we share. Why engage in this blogging experience if we are constantly questioning and being cynical of every little detail? I like to believe that who we really are is a group of women just trying to find the words to help us makes sense of whatever life throws our way. I think Brene Brown said it best…

“Authenticity is a daily practice. Choosing authenticity means: cultivating the courage to be emotionally honest, to set boundaries, and to allow ourselves to be vulnerable; exercising compassion that comes from knowing that we are all made of strength and struggle and connected to each other through a loving and resilient human spirit; nurturing the connection and sense of belonging that can only happen when we let go of what we are supposed to be and embrace who we are. Authenticity demands wholehearted loving and loving – even when it’s hard, even when we’re wrestling with the shame and fear of not being good enough, and especially when the joy is so intense that we’re afraid to let ourselves feel it. Mindfully practicing authenticity during our most soul-searching struggles is how we invite grace, joy, and gratitude in our lives.”

Who are you really?

This post is inspired by mystery thriller GONE GIRL by Gillian Flynn. They may not have the perfect marriage, but after Amy goes missing, Nick becomes the number one suspect. Can he discover what happened before it’s too late? Join From Left to Write on June 12 as we discuss Gone Girl. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Filed Under: book club, book review

Alternate Reality (Plus a Giveaway!)

June 6, 2012 by Neena 6 Comments

**CONTEST IS CLOSED**

And the winner is…Erin! Congratulations! Email me with your contact information and the publisher will ship the book right to you!!

If someone would have asked me 15 years ago what the reality of my future would be I can say with almost certainty that I didn’t expect it to look like this.

Fifteen years ago I had plans. I was going to study journalism. I would move to New York City to accept some fabulous job where I would work my way up to Editor. My office door would be shiny glass with my name stenciled rather large. Employees would answer to me and I’d make decisions that would affect the whole of the publishing world. I’d wear black and heels and have a quaint apartment filled with books. I’d have an amazing fella who worshipped me and we’d be the perfect power couple.

Instead I am married to that amazing fella living in what is technically the rural South. I have three incredible children and I spend my days engaging in all things domestic. I have a PhD and I wear yoga pants and flip-flops. My office is filled with pots and pans and homemade jam. The decisions I make affect the lives and futures of my children and the publishing world has no idea who I am. I write a blog and scribble away on romance novels in the evenings when I’m not folding laundry or running back and forth to karate or ballet or piano. Nobody answers to me and usually what I say goes in one ear and out the other. Sure my house is filled with books – overflowing actually – but that is the only similarity.

And that’s okay.

This alternate reality I wake up in everyday is rather exciting and satisfying in its own unique way. Different sure, but still satisfying. Sometimes I picture the other version – the young naive ’I can plan everything’ version – and it seems so…not me. Could the homebody who loves her yoga pants and snuggling down with a good book on a cold night really have made it in the big bad city. Could I really be the type who is married to her job? Would I be happier if I had chosen not to become a mother? I’ll never know.

And that’s okay, too.

See, I ended up someplace completely different and unexpected from what that young girl in Ohio expected, but I also ended up someplace good. Really good. Somedays really really good.

The twist in all this is that through writing my tiny little blog and scribbling away on my romance novels I technically get to live out any reality and fantasy I want. I get to choose a different path with every story. I get to pick an alternate reality with every character and every experience.

And I never have to leave my living room, my yoga pants, my books, or my children to do any of it…

This post was inspired by Ready Player One by Ernest Cline. As a participant in this From Left to Write book blog tour, I received a copy of the book for review. If you would like to receive a free copy of Ready Player One (trust me you want to read this incredible book!) please leave a comment below. You can receive additional entries by doing one or all of the following:

Follow me on Twitter for a second entry (be sure to come back and leave a 2nd comment letting me know!)
Follow me on Facebook for a third entry (again, be sure to come back and leave a 3rd comment letting me know!)

Winner will be announced June 12th! Also – if you’re feeling super lucky check out this great video by author Ernest Cline. Here he explains how he hid an easter egg inside the novel that, if found, can help you win a Delorean. Yes, the Back to the Future car!!

Filed Under: book club, book review, books, Uncategorized

A different life I hope never to experience

March 29, 2012 by Neena 7 Comments

When I married Andy almost ten years ago I immediately felt a sense of safety with him. It was as if I came home.

I knew the life we were building would be full of great things and I never worried about the future. In many ways I felt the same invincibility in our marriage that many teenagers feel as they experience their first taste of independence. Nothing bad would ever happen. Not to us…not in our marriage.

Then we had our first child. And a second. And finally a third.

The birth of each child and the constant traveling my husband was required to do for work created this strange fear and anxiety within me. For the first time I began wondering what would happen if I lost my husband.

What would happen if I became a widow? Would I move on? Could I move on? How would it affect my children?

I would lay in bed at night worrying that something was going to happen to him – that our utter happiness and amazing relationship somehow made us more likely to experience something terrifying and earth shattering.

Who would I be without my husband? Would I be the same person? I don’t remember what is was like to be me before I was “Neena and Andy.”

I believe that if we are lucky we may get one great love in our lives. I was blessed to find mine early. I have been so blessed to build a life and family with him that I find myself getting choked up thinking of what it might be like to lose him now or even someday in the distant future.

Even though I’ve demanded that he let me go first when the time comes I know the universe just doesn’t work that way. I know someday I will be faced with losing him. It saddens me, but also makes me want to embrace the moments of each day that I am lucky enough to have with him. So I do simple things to ease the anxiety. I never let him leave the house or drive home from work without telling him to ‘be safe.’ Even when I’m angry I do not hesitate to say ‘I love you.’ And, at 5:00 in the morning I’ll choose to stand with him in the hot shower instead of heading to the kitchen for that quiet cup of coffee.

These moments are fleeting. We are lucky we get them at all. And, even with the worry that he may someday be gone, right now he is here.

With me.

And I am thankful.

This post was inspired by Signs of Life by Natalie Taylor. During the fifth month of her pregnancy of her first child Natalie Taylor is devastated by the sudden death of her husband. Her journey with grief is chronicled in this touching memoir Join From Left to Write Book Club on March 29 as we discuss this amazing book. As a member of From Left to Write, I received a complimentary copy of the book. All opinions are my own.

Filed Under: andy, book club, book review, books

Slowing Down

February 20, 2012 by Neena 8 Comments

I have always gotten a kick out of looking at real estate listings. To me it’s kind of like daydreaming about what you would do if you won the lottery. In my opinion a dollar is worth the price of the daydream. Lately, though, I seem to always look at real estate listings for farms. I look at the acreage, how far removed it is from civilization, and think about how much I could do with just a couple of acres.

Usually I think about these things as I’m running my kids from activity to activity. Or as I’m trying to rush dinner on the table before we have to make it to Scouts or piano. In those moments I think about how a small farm has come to represent life at a much slower pace.

I think about waking up and enjoying a fresh cup of coffee outside as I examine the beauty of the landscape and not the speed of cars rushing by. I think about how exciting it would be to have chickens to raise and provide eggs for our family. I think about how a slower pace might allow me to do things like bake fresh bread, sew my own aprons, plant and tend an impressive garden.

I think about how different our eating habits would be without the convenience of fast food, grocery stores just down the street, and the pizza guy’s number on the fridge. I wonder if my children would love to learn more about where their food comes from and what it takes to prepare in properly. I think about how much fun it would be to start canning from that impressive garden.

I wonder if I would have the time to pursue more pleasure reading, more homemade recipes, more enjoyment of the world around me.

Life here is the suburbs raising three children is so fast-paced. From the moment my eyes open in the morning until the moment I crash in the bed at night seems to be on high-speed. I know we’re responsible for this fast-paced life we’ve created and I know we could easily change it with a renewed commitment to the art of slowing down. But sometimes it’s nice to just imagine the idealistic setting of my own little farm.

This post was inspired by Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. As a member of From Left to Write book club, I received a copy of the book. All opinions are my own.

Filed Under: book club, book review, food

Never Be Afraid: A Love Letter To My Children

January 31, 2012 by Neena 8 Comments

My beautiful babies,

I could easily spend all day everyday passing along bit of advice, wisdom, and clarity to you about the world you experience now and the world waiting for you as you grow. Unfortunately, I cannot use every moment of every day piling those lessons on your shoulders. There are many aspects of life that can only be learned through experience, many understandings you cannot possibly grasp until the moment they are upon you. But, I want to share a piece of advice with you that I can only hope you take with you everywhere.

Never be afraid.

Never be afraid to try new things. Never be afraid to change your mind, embrace a new experience, or fall in love. Never be afraid to share the emotions, beautiful and ugly, that might be clawing their way out. Never be afraid to try again. And again. And again. Never be afraid to laugh and smile and feel good about the world. Never be afraid to stop and listen to the sounds existing around you, dancing along as you make your journey. Never be afraid to venture out. And never be afraid to come back home.

We exist here with you, guiding you where you’re mean to be. The love surrounding you cannot keep away all the scary things in the world, but in moment of calm and crisis it is always here ready to whisper “never be afraid…”

Love,
Mama

This post was inspired by The Art of Hearing Heartbeats by Jan-Philipp Sendker as part of the From Left to Write Book Club. I received a complimentary copy of the book for review.