Motherhood Incorporated

So I’m eight months into the whole “work-at-home”/ “stay-at-home” thing– and I feel like I’m still trying to get a handle on it!

Yes, maintaining a household and trying to work and looking for work and raising a child and maintaining some semblance of structure are tough balancing acts … but, more than anything, I’m stymied when it comes to intellectually, creatively, and actively stimulating my daughter.

Her previous daycare was wonderful in terms of preschool preparation, but that was an expense we had to relinquish fairly quickly.  (Hmmm, groceries and gas or daycare?) Though I’m really trying to prevent a total loss of her counting and pre-reading skills, I feel as if my meager repetitions and totally amateur, totally improvised teaching methods are woefully inadequate.  I am fortunate that my city offers tons of daytime child-friendly activities– but regular attendance usually translates to unaffordability.

So how does one with diminished financial resources and limited education nurture their kid’s mind growth? I feel like I’m all park, pool, crafts, and story-timed out– and I’m embarrassed to admit that she watches a little more than her fair share of TV and spends an inordinate amount of time coloring “artsies” solo while I clatter away on the keyboard in pursuit of the dollar.  Sadly, the fact of this didn’t even really hit me until the day not long ago when I walked in on her reciting the Noggin commercials (”Iiiiiiiit’s puzzle time!”) word-for-word as they aired. 

Maybe I’m exaggerating; she is three, after all, and certainly I, as the responsible, nurturing mother, can cope.  Right? After all, I’m in no way entertaining homeschooling down the line or kidding myself that I’d be able to even do it.  This feeling is temporary and will certainly be nullified once she does enter preschool next year, right?  All in all, she enjoys regular social interaction via playdates and “reads” tons of books, and she seems well-adjusted and smart.  Still, I can’t help but think that if she doesn’t get into the college of her dreams some shrink will ultimately trace it to this decidedly uninspired lull ….

by Elisa Garcia

¡Bueno, soy tan ocho meses aqui trabajando en la casa, y siento como todavía estoy intentando conseguir una manija en ella!

Sí, mantener un hogar y el intentar trabajar y buscar el trabajo y criar a un niño y mantener una cierta apariencia de la estructura son ejercicios de equilibrio resistentes… pero, más que cualquier cosa, estoy confundida cuando viene intelectual, creativo, y activamente estimulando a mi hija.

Su guardería anterior era maravillosa en términos de preparación preescolar, pero eso era un costo que tuvimos que abandonar bastante rápidamente. (Hmmm, groceries y gas o guardería?) Aunque estoy intentando realmente prevenir una pérdida total de sus habilidades de la cuenta y de la prelectura, siento como si mis repeticiones pobres y métodos de enseñanza totalmente aficionados, totalmente improvisados sean lamentablemente inadecuados. Soy afortunado que mi cuidad ofrece un variedad de actividades de niño diurna, pero atender regular traducen generalmente a un gran costo.

¿Tan cómo uno con los recursos financieros disminuidos y la educación limitada consolida el crecimiento de la mente de su hijo? Ya me siento muy aburrida con tanto parque, piscina, artes, y “story-time”– y desconciertan para admitir que ella mira un poco más que su parte justa de la TV y que se pasa una cantidad excesiva de colorante “artsies” del tiempo a solas mientras que choco ruidosamente lejos en el teclado en la búsqueda del dólar. ¡Tristemente, el hecho de esto incluso no me golpeó realmente hasta el día desde hace poco tiempo cuando caminé adentro en ella que recitaba los anuncios publicitarios de canal Noggin (”Es tiempo del rompecabezas!”) palabra por palabra como ventilaron.

Estoy exagerando quizá; ella es tres, después de todo, y ciertamente yo, como el responsable, consolidando a la madre, puede hacer frente. ¿Verdad? Después de todo, estoy entreteniendo de ninguna manera de “homeschooling” abajo de la línea o embromándose que podría a incluso hágala. ¿Esta sensación es temporal y será anulada ciertamente una vez que ella incorpora próximo año preescolar, verdad? Cosiderándolo todo, ella disfruta de la interacción social regular vía playdates y “lee” toneladas de libros, y ella parece muy adaptiva y inteligente. No obstante, no puedo dejar pensar que si ella no consigue en la universidad de sus sueños un psicologico la remontará en última instancia a este período de calma decididamente sin inspiración….

Por Elisa Garcia

I know that we all talk about how motherhood is a difficult job, but I hope we can all agree that the rewards make it not so difficult after all. Most of us are fortunate enough to receive the hugs, the kisses, the “I love you, Mommy” reminders often enough that we remember to consider ourselves lucky. This week, however, has been extremely hard for my family and I’m reminded all over again how hard being a mother can be and how blessed I am to have the chance.

 My brother and his wife spent almost a year trying to conceive before they got pregnant. Nine months later, they gave birth to a beautiful, incredible baby boy. Less than ten minutes later they were in an ambulance en route to the hospital, and their beautiful, incredibly baby boy’s beautiful, incredible face was covered with an oxygen mask.

I could go on forever about the pain they’re experiencing and the trials they’re facing, but what is important is that, for right now, their baby, my nephew, is alive and has a chance. Hearing about him and now watching him has been an incredible learning experience about families bonding together, not sweating the small stuff, and remembering with every passing second how lucky we are to be mothers.

Motherhood is hard this week. My own baby is at home with her father, and I miss her more than I can describe. I’m constantly reminded of seeing her in the NICU and wondering what I must have done wrong to have her there instead of in my arms. At the same time, I see my sister-in-law spending her first week as a mother with only a little hand to hold and a lot of machines with which to contend.

This is when motherhood gets hard. It isn’t when the kids won’t stop screaming and the in-laws are coming. It isn’t when the house is a mess and the deadlines are looming. For me, it’s when I realize that so many minutes have passed where I forgot to remember how lucky I am. It’s when I look at another mother who can’t hold her baby and imagine how she must be feeling. It’s when I think of my own baby at home and know I can’t hold her either because, at least for now, it’s more important that I sit beside someone else’s baby. This is when experiences are learned. This is when we might just need our children more than they need us. This, more than anything else, is when motherhood gets hard.

By Nicole Perkins

Wow, I had no idea it has been so long since I’ve blogged, but things have been a little crazy in my life. Just when I get rid of one kid during the day, cruising down easy street with my baby boy, I find out that my little yoga incident from last month was just my body’s way of telling me to slow down - there’s a little baby growing in there that I didn’t know about.

 Talk about a shocker. Well, obviously not a complete shocker. Clearly we weren’t as careful as we could’ve been - we were going to see how we felt after our daughter started school before we did anything permanent. So, now that our decision was made for us, I have been trying to wrap my head around being a mother of three.

At first I was just exhausted by the thought. I was finally a solid size 6 again (2.75 years and countless hours at the gym later!), my son is really close to being potty trained, I was actually starting to really work again, I was organized and on top of the house cleaning. Things were running at a nice hum.

Plus, I know a lot of people do it, but no one that I have ever been close to has been a three-sibling family, so understanding the dynamic is a little daunting to me. I know brother and sister - I am one and have known lots. I don’t know brother, sister, and baby xoxo. I don’t want anyone to feel left out, too much responsibility, or too sheltered.

But it will all work out. I’m truly excited now. We make cute kids and really, what a blessing. My husband put it best - he said we just have so much love to give, we were destined to have another child with whom to share it.

Before my daughter was born, I was totally wrapped up in, totally in love with, the idea of being a mom.  Frankly, it’s all I’ve ever aspired to be aside from Wonder Woman.  Other little girls dreamt of a fabulous wedding with flowing white train, I dreamt only of rocking the babies.  (Hmmm… I never could envision the daddy; the other parent was always faceless and decidedly non-gender specific).

Then it happened.  And while motherhood has been unequivocally the most rewarding, amazing, and indescribably incredible experience of my life, I’m afraid that it has become my life.  Or, rather, that I have no value or identity beyond the role.  The sensation is particularly strong on days like today, when the highlight consists of attending a 30-minute toddler storytime.  And though I wouldn’t trade motherhood for anything or anyone– my daughter is the unquestioned, unrivaled love of my life–, there is always the underlying worry that I’ll end up one of those lonely helicopter parents who hover, cluelessly unwelcome, long after the chickens have flown the coop.  These parents, mostly mothers, don’t ever seem to forge an identity beyond their child(ren), and, I closeted worrier that I am, feel just a little tiny twinge of paranoia.  Me in fifteen years? Could be.

This past month, I was honored to attend the 2008 Lambda Literary Foundation Writer’s Retreat.  I met some wonderfully talented and creative people, many of them new, if transitory, teachers in this phase of my life.  Yet aside from craft technicalities and feedback, one of my most lasting impressions of this conference centered on identity concepts, from the abstract and artistic to the concrete and physical.  Frankly, the whole experience– being surrounded by GLBT-identified creators, solidified the sense in me that I, too, need to really kickstart writing, that I need to get off my rear and actively seek to form a presence undefined by conventional roles so as to shape a unique voice.

But first, I guess, I need to find it. 

by Elisa Garcia

 Antes de que mi hija naciera, tuve totalmente interesada en, totalmente enamorado con, la idea de ser una mamá. Franco, es toda lo que he aspirado … aparte de la figura de televisor, Wonder Woman! Otras niñas soñaban de una boda fabulosa con el tren blanco que fluía, y yo soñaba solamente de la oscilación de los bebés. (Hmmm… Nunca podría prever al papá; el otro pariente era siempre específico anónimo y decididamente del no-género).

Entonces sucedió. Y mientras que la maternidad ha sido inequívoco la más bella, el sorprender, y experiencia indescriptiblemente increíble de mi vida, tengo miedo que se ha convertido en mi vida. O, algo, que ya no tengo ningun valor o identidad separado de madre. La sensación es particularmente fuerte los días como hoy, cuando el punto culminante consiste en el atender de un “storytime” para hijos! Y aunque no negociaría la maternidad para cualquier cosa o cualquier persona–mi hija es el amor indiscutible, incomparable de mi vida-, hay siempre la preocupación subyacente que terminaré para arriba a uno de esos padres solos del helicóptero que asomen, desorientado incómodo, largo después de que los pollos hayan volado el tonel. Estos padres, sobre todo madres, no parecen nunca forjar una identidad más allá de su niño(s), y, pesimista que soy, sensación apenas una pequeña punzada minúscula de la paranoia. ¿Yo en quince años? Podía ser yo.

Este último mes, me honraron para atender al retratamiento para escritores 2008 de la Lambda Literary Foundation. Encontré a alguna gente maravillosamente, talentosa y creativa, muchas de ella los nuevos, si transitorios, profesores en esta fase de mi vida. Con todo aparte de tecnicidades y de la regeneración del arte, una de mis impresiones más duraderas de esta conferencia se centró en conceptos de la identidad, el del abstracto y artístico, al concreto y a la comprobación. Franco, la experiencia entera que era rodeada por los creador identificados “gay”, solidificó el sentido en mí que yo también necesito escribir sinceramente y realmente, que necesito conseguir de mi parte posterior e intentar activamente para formar una presencia indefinida por papeles convencionales para formar una voz única.

Pero primero, conjeturo, yo necesito encontrarla.

Por Elisa Garcia

I’d vote for Sandra!

http://www.inews3.com/play.php?first=Sandra&last=Beck

Cooking a full three-course meal a la “The Brady Bunch” or “Leave it to Beaver” is a nice idea, but it just isn’t realistic for today’s working mother. By the same token, nobody wants to raise their kids on pizza, fast food, and frozen chicken nuggets day in and day out. For that reason, here are a couple of quick tips on meals that can be prepared with little time and less fuss.

First, pasta is always an easy shortcut. It’s not the healthiest solution by itself, but tomato sauce is a nutritious addition that heats up in minutes. It also helps that pasta can boil relatively unsupervised (provided the kids are suitably distracted in another room).

Chef salads and bread are another easy make, and the supplies are easy to find. Lettuce, cheese, tomato, cucumber, and lunch meat all work as healthy, solid ingredients. An added bonus is letting the kids put together their own salads. All the ingredients are good for them, so it’s only a little compromising (no meat-and-cheese-only salads here!) away from a fun activity with a nutritious end.

Multi-use recipes are also helpful. Take meatballs, for example. If you use a similar recipe for meatballs that you do for meatloaf, you can make one big batch on a weekend night. Roll and spread accordingly, and you’ve got two pre-planned meals for later in the week. Add the meatballs to the aforementioned pasta and tomato sauce, and heat up a can of vegetables and an easy potato mix for the meatloaf.

Chicken breasts are another good universal food. You can drop them in Italian dressing once you buy them and throw them in the oven when you need a fast meal. You can also just drop them in a pan with some Cream of Mushroom soup, or coat them in barbecue sauce. Each preparation takes about two minutes including unwrapping and pouring time, and the final result is an easy-bake meal with a wide variety of suitable side dishes.

I’m back!

At the beginning of the month, I wrote a long, painful entry about my upcoming writer’s conference and the ensuing 8-day-long separation from my daughter.

Miraculously, she survived, as did the house, the partner, the pets, and everything else.  She was lovingly cared for by my parents and her other mommy.  She made it to swim class.  She played.  She was spoiled … and she thrived.  I won’t lie; it was a bit disconcerting to me (albeit briefly) when she’d quickly sign off after a five-second chat during our daily conversations.  (I’d be saying something along the lines of missing her terribly, and she’d interrupt with a boisterous, “I love you, bye bye!” It was beyond cute!).  But, really, I was happy that she wasn’t crying and was enjoying herself, and, apparently, not really missing me. 

And me? Well, I won’t go into all of the details, but to say that this conference was a truly transformative experience on so many levels is a huge understatement.  I met some amazing people, worked on my craft, and really, really thought about things in a way I hadn’t been able to (or afforded time to) before.  Truly transformative– and I’m confident that I’ll continue to reap the benefits for a long time to come.

But now that I’m back to being a full-time mama, it’s soooo good to be home!

by Elisa Garcia

¡Ya regrese!

 Al principio del mes, escribí una entrada larga, dolorosa sobre la conferencia de mi escritor próximo y la separación de mi hija.

Milagrosamente, ella sobrevivió, al igual que la casa, mi pareja, los animales domésticos, y todo. Mis padres y su otra mama la cuidaron cariñosamente. Ella la hizo para nadar la clase. Ella jugó. La estropearon… y ella prosperó. No mentiré; era un pedacito que descomponía a mí (no obstante brevemente) cuando ella firmaría rápidamente apagado después de que una cinco-segunda charla durante nuestras conversaciones diarias. (Estaría diciendo algo a lo largo de las líneas de faltarla terrible, y ella interrumpiría con un bullicioso, “te amo, adiós!” Estaba muy curioso!). Pero, realmente, era feliz que ella no gritaba y se gozaba, y, al parecer, no realmente me extrane.

¿Y yo? Bien, no entraré todos los detalles, pero decir que esta conferencia era una experiencia verdaderamente transformativa en así que muchos niveles son una subestimación enorme. Encontré a alguna gente asombrosa, trabajé en mi arte, y realmente, pensó realmente en cosas de una manera que no había podido (o tiempo producido) antes. Verdaderamente transformativo y yo se sienten confiado que continuaré cosechando las ventajas por muchos años. ¡Pero ahora que estoy de nuevo a ser una mama a tiempo completo, es muuuuuy bueno estar acqui en mi hogar!

Por Elisa Garcia