zen motherhood

I'm not sure how it happens but I am now convinced that when you have a child you take on super powers. I read an article about it one time and thought it silly but now I am beginning to believe that I may have some unusual super powers that I never had pre-mom. I am also convinced that these super powers become stronger with each child you have. A gross tale of these powers in action: <warning>- kind of yucky story and not for the weak stomach. </warning>. My daughter recently came down with a 24-hour stomach virus. It was the vomiting/diarrhea kind. (btw being able to spell diarrhea along with other weird child ailments I think is another super power...) In the middle of the night she woke up crying saying she was choking. As I held her and tried to decipher if she was really choking or just had a dry throat she threw up on me. Now all my friends without kids just went 'ew'. My friends with kids thought 'oh no'. Both were right. This is super power n

This weekend I took my daughter to a local park called Dinosaur Park. It has very little to do with dinosaurs per se but is every bit of park you can imagine. Nestled in the woods of Ashburn Farm, 4 large structures and dinosaur emblems stud the landscape inviting eager climbing beings of all ages to enjoy. As we entered the park, my daughter broke into a full sprint, running and laughing with excitement. I was envious of her pure elation with something so simple- just some plastic/metal bars in the woods. But she wasn't the only one- several children (and a few grown ups) ran around giggling and running while parents jogged behind ensuring no one collided and no one did a face plant. I realized also that I needed more of this. Maybe not coming to dinosaur park, but really taking time to run and laugh - out loud. We take life so seriously and as of late, I have been over-serious. Worrying about the job, worrying about my daughter, worrying about her school, worrying about my hus

I believe that I am a tiger mother by nature. By tiger mother that means super strict thinking mom that is ultimately blind with the benefits of the child with little use of tact or niceties to educate them. I grew up with a tiger mom and am personally quite comfortable with this ideology however, I don't necessarily believe that it was the best. So being the introspective person I want to believe that I am, I have been forever pursuing new methods to supplement my 'tigerness" on dealing with the crazy 3 year old. Terrible 2's are interesting but crazy 3's I believe are what drive a lot of moms close to the brink of crazy-hood or back to medication they only considered right after birth. These precious beings can talk now- but it's crazy talk. You think you can understand them. However, you can't understand them. You think you know them. Yet, you don't know them at all. It's very zen if you think about it. That being said, I find my lack of pat

I think every mom has a moment where she takes that deep breath, or lets out that deep sigh and thinks - well nothing. Sometimes there are moments where one is at a loss for words. I find these moments are sometimes the best to take a meditative moment. Mostly because if I don't there may be one less three year old on this wonderful planet of ours. But I digress and I haven't really gotten into the meat of it all. Recently we have decided to put our house up for sale. I won't bore you with all the reasons why, but because of this decision, I was cleaning up before the real estate agent was coming to visit. And in order for me to be able to concentrate on cleaning I let my daughter paint at the kitchen table. This is one of the few things, aside from Sponge Bob that will engross her attention for more than 3 nanoseconds. It is also typically a fairly neat activity and we are at the lovely stage of painting in the lines. But on this particular day, my daughter had a Pollock

I think many women struggle with the idea that their spouses may not be a full contributor to the household duties (some of you are sighing, I can hear it...) and others are blessed with a partner that contributes fully. Or even others who are reading this know they are the slacker in their duo or you are having to manage it single-handedly (is that a word?). I am lucky to have something in the middle. But I think all of you will find some humor in this story especially if you are even the slightest OCD (obsessive compulsive diva) like myself. Yesterday I had a phone interview scheduled for 6pm and my husband who has been a gigantic supporter of my job search offered to cook dinner so I could concentrate on getting ready for the interview. No easy feat mind you with a 3 1/2 year old 'helping' out. But I was relieved to not have to worry about getting dinner ready and prepare for the interview. As I ran through my questions and answers my husband whipped up some great veggie

I have decided that if I can't work out a job that I may become a toddler translator. I really am only qualified to translate my child but it's something to consider. I have been painfully waiting for the day that my daughter will be reciting Emerson or really just using words in a sentence that make complete sense. And I think we are almost there, but we seem to have some Lost in Translation moments. I wrote earlier that it's difficult to know if your child's speech is on track and they are speaking the proper number of words or whether or not she has a speech problem and needs to go into therapy. I think we are okay but this is a difficult stage to be in as she pointedly tells me things and when I don't understand, repeats them loudly and in a frustrated tone. Last night's conversation was a classic: Naomi "mama, i take rainbow and cut it just like daddy" Mom "you miss daddy?" Naomi "no- ugh- mama, i cut it!" Mom "you

I am in Google+ and Facebook to keep up with my friends. I use Skype with my daughter each week to call my parents. I work from home and connect with my team through conference calls and chat. I rarely connect physically with a human being except for an occasional meet up with friends and well my husband who sits about 5 feet away. We are a virtual family in the extreme sense. Naomi has become so accustomed to seeing her extended family through the computer that whenever I boot up the laptop that we use for Skype she asks 'we calling bachi'? (bachi is short for Obaachan which is Japanese for grandma). And I wonder many times whether or not this is the best thing for her. I never lived close to my grandparents or any of my extended family growing up. I always felt remiss every holiday when all of my friends would gather up with their cousins and grandparents for dinner. With my daughter too, I always think that I should try to plan a trip each year so she can see her grandpare

I am a big fan of John J Muth, and one of the children's books that he has published is called Zen Shorts. If you haven't read it, even if you don't have kids, you should. He takes 3 common zen stories and puts them into children's context that I find great. I also believe children really can teach us a lot about being zen. So sometimes if I can't sit, it's nice to just really focus on my daughter and learn from her. So I thought I would share one of those moments with you John Muth style :-) Naomi's Flowers In the corner of a big backyard, surrounding a garden, a clump of flowers grew. Purple and white and yellow, they were the biggest flowers Naomi had ever seen. Whenever she could, she would wade through this sea of purple and pick the very best, and prettiest flowers. She then would tour the yard for other flowers; big white puffy ones, and yellow daisy-like ones. One day, however, Naomi went to pick the pretty flowers, and they were gone. She rush

We are learning numbers. And I say "we" because I feel that with every concept that my daughter is learning it becomes a learning experience for me as well. I'm sure also, as she gets older they will truly become learning experiences in the basic way as well (can't wait for Algebra again!!). She is learning numbers at an age that again, confirms our decision to put her in school. I personally wouldn't have thought to expose her to numbers until she was 5 at least (she's now 3), but I guess that's why I wound up in IT and not as a school teacher. :-) She is super excited about learning them which I am happy to see. Her excitement is exciting for me and any chance to encourage this learning of numbers, I'm all about. She even called me into her room after going to bed last night to show me in a book the number 4. She seemed so enthused I couldn't help but be supportive although she should have been sleeping by that point. I proceeded to use the n

The title sounds like painful words, and quite frankly if I was on the receiving end of it, I would be devastated. My husband has taken it into stride however that my daughter does appear to be more of a mama's girl than a daddy's girl. This is a phenomena that I'm still trying to decipher since ever since she was in the womb, I was sure that she would be a daddy's girl. My husband has two girls already and they are definitely daddy's girls through and through. He is also the more nurturing of the two of us and definitely has the softer/kinder heart as well. And the recent phrase has been "I want mommy. Not daddy". Or "I love mama. not daddy". Ouch huh? More so I am confused by this lack of connection with the parent that is obviously nicer, more nurturing, and the holder of the chocolate in this family. During a recent illness in November, we were inseparable, Naomi and I. With a horrible cough, fever, and congestion, she insisted on being