The end to another wonderful Mother’s Day is upon me. This was my 27th Mother’s Day. Each one has been wonderful, each very different. As I took the drive to celebrate with family, I couldn’t help but think of all my memories of my journey through motherhood. What did I know, as a girl in my very early 20s, about being a Mom? What did I expect? Would I be a classic June Cleaver mom or would I be more of a Roseanne Connor-esq matriarch? Truth be told I was/am probably a little of both. But motherhood is a tough job. Is it a position most of us would have applied for had we seen it advertised? How could you effectively advertise for this all consuming role? My guess is you would need to call in the top marketing/advertising folks money could buy in order to give a clear picture of the expectations, responsibilities, ups, downs and salary range. Much creativity would be needed as well as a healthy dose candor. Thinking about how corporate America advertises, I’m struck with the realization that many product taglines or catch phrases could easily be tweaked to be an ad for motherhood. By changing the product or service to “Motherhood or Mom”… you’ll see what I mean. So come along and play…
• Motherhood, It’s the Real Thing (Coke)
• Mom’s, Building Strong Bodies, 12 ways (Wonder Bread)
• Leave the Driving to Us (Greyhound)
• We’ll leave the light on… (Motel 6)
• Just Do It! (Nike)
• Motherhood, The Greatest Show on Earth (Ringling Bro/Barnum & Bialy Circus)
• Be all you can be… (Army)
• You’re in Good Hands… (Allstate)
• We do the work, so you don’t have to… (Scrubbing Bubbles)
I could go on and on with this. All of these on their own could work and all of them together would fit the bill. But you would still need more, much more!
Moms can be Dads. But Dads cannot be Moms without at some point, a female. While science has made unbelievable strides in assisting in the creation of life, they still have not created anything to eliminate the womb. What happens before or after the womb can be managed, handled, attempted and failed by any gender. It is the pure heart, openness to change, ability to set all aside for your child, willingness to laugh with and at yourself, courage to dream and the passion to embrace lunacy that is vital. Must work endless, sleep deprived hours for little or no monetary gain while managing a household, holding down a paying job, scheduling appointments, meeting with teachers, taking the dog to the vet and still keeping other relationships alive. You’ll need an active imagination, the ability to slay dragons, the diplomacy to pick your battles and the negotiating skills of the toughest world leaders. Wimps need not apply.
There is so much more involved in the job description. The pay is terrible. But the bonus structure is amazing and potentially, if you do it right, never-ending. If successful, even in the smallest ways, you will be rich beyond your wildest dreams.
Thank you to K & P for making me the wealthiest woman in the world. Thank you Jim, for make K & P with me. Congratulations to all my family and friends who are just beginning this amazing journey as new parents of; Liam, Reese, Benjamin George, D-Max, Abby, Emerson, Lia, Khloe and one great nephew due very soon. (sorry if I have left anyone out)
I (heart) Motherhood! (New York)
Monday, May 10, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Living up to my potential & applying myself
Ah, the dreaded words no parent wants to hear… “I’m sorry to say but your daughter’s not living up to her potential, maybe if she’d just apply herself”. But unfortunately my parents heard this more than once. I find it odd that they heard it as early as grade school. Just how is something like potential realized or even measured at that age? Good grief, I hope it wasn’t those insane tests we had to take once or twice a year. You remember, take your number 2 pencil and fill in the circle that best represent the correct answer. Every year you received instructions on the correct way to fill in the circle. Every year it was drilled into our little heads, if for some unintended twist of fate you didn’t use a number 2 pencil, your life could be set on a course too horrible to describe. The same could happen if you colored in the answer dot without completely filling it in. Trouble could be yours if you became overzealous and lost complete control, allowing your pencil mark to extend beyond the parameters of the dot. Basically, I was lead to believe, if I made any of these life changing errors, I should just pack it in and give up on any possible future happiness. OMG! Maybe that’s why my life has taken the turns it has! Glad I finally figured that out!
I clearly heard the dreaded “potential/apply” comment in Sunday school the year I was to make my Holy Communion. I was raised in a Catholic household. We were practicing Catholics for a while. My parents were raised in the faith, married and had children in the faith. My brother, sisters and I were all taken to church regularly and with the exception of me, all were baptized, celebrated Communion and were confirmed. Some would argue this, but I was not a demon child banned from receiving these sacraments. There were some changes in our home and after my communion, the tides turned and we did not attend church any longer. But the comment made by one tiny but mighty nun on that Sunday so many years ago has stayed with me all these years. Sister Rita Claire didn’t stand much taller than I did but it was never her physical size that could stop me in my tracks. There was something about her that was so frightening and commanding that had she asked me to run naked through the streets, I probably would have. So powerful were her words that to this day they come back and pepper my everyday life. As I think back, I spent a very short time with the Sister. I’ll never forget the day we were practicing the proper way to hold your arms, clasp your hands and walk in to church. We were lined up, boys on one side, girls on the other. I clearly remember standing next to Michael Good. Even as a very young girl I thought he was handsome and he smelled terrific. Ok maybe terrific is going overboard. He didn’t smell like Dial soap, like all the rest of us. I wonder if Mrs. Good used extra Downey or if they had some higher quality soap than the rest of us. Funny what you remember. So back to the sister… I must have been swooning over the closeness of Michael Good because I think I tripped or ran into the girl in front of me, but Sister Rita Claire said something about me having a rough life ahead of me because I couldn’t pay attention to anything, even as I was being welcomed into “God’s House”. I am surprised that there weren’t any thunder claps or bolts of lightning. She then mentioned that some people, inferring me, would never live up to their potential… if only they would apply themselves! At this point I believe we all prayed for me. She asked that they all keep me in their prayers, reminding them all that when you continuously pray for those less fortunate, your life will be all you ever wished for. Wonder how that’s working out for all of them. This bit of unpleasantness was parceled away in my head. Often I would think about the Sister and wonder if it was me or her who had issues. It was probably both of us. But I did learn from that little dynamo. Some of what she said has been the little voice in my head over the years. Years ago I was working at a hospital as a switchboard operator. Because this was a Catholic hospital, every night at 8:15 sharp, prayers were said over the public address system. Ironic, visiting hours ended at 8:30… so there was usually a captive audience for the evening prayer. I normally worked the midnight shift but was filling in for someone one summer evening. We all sat in a big room at a huge horseshoe shaped table with a phone panel in front of each of us. For security reasons, you had to have a key card to enter our work space. So that evening as I enjoyed the change of pace the evening shift held, I heard the door click as a key card was used. I looked up to see who was joining us… Sister Rita Claire came toward me. It had been 17 or 18 years since I had last seen her, but she looked exactly the same. I had to remind myself to breathe. “Good Evening Sister Rita Claire” automatically came from my lips before I even knew I was saying it… Her immediate recall astounded me. “Good Evening Sarah Ellanor”… As she presented the evening prayer to the sick, injured, the newly born and those preparing to pass on, I was impressed with her calm, peaceful way. I thought maybe I had been mistaken all those years ago. Maybe she really did want to foster only the best in me. As she spoke, she smiled so sweetly at me. I was so sure I had misjudged the Sister. Maybe she really did believe in me… Once she had completed the prayer, she came to where I was sitting. She took my hands in hers and I have to admit, lovingly caressed them. I was feeling nothing short a pure love and hope going through my body. She asked about my life. I proudly said I was married with 2 young children. There was a smile of recognition, a kiss on the forehead. As she left, she turned to me and said, “What parish are you with?” Before I could stop myself I blurted out that I was not with a parish. “Your children were baptized?” she asked. Looking down in shame I told her no, they weren’t. And then, after a heavy sigh, she said it. “You never did live up to your potential, if only you could apply yourself… May God be with you” and she was gone. To this day I’m very cautious when around nuns. I believe the good sister is still around and could pop up at any minute. I rue the day some unthinking person in the Catholic Church decided some nuns didn’t have to where their habits. I believe that is really playing dirty. Goes right along with undercover cops in my book. There should be some type of warning. I suppose the excessively large cross hanging around their neck may be a clue, but it’s not a clue you can always rely on. It could be an ill place fashion statement. While we’re at it, can we talk about aggravatingly handsome priests and how wrong that is? My siblings and I used to do Community Theater. Every year, one of the biggest parishes in our area did a fabulous musical variety show. The amount of money made off the show was astounding. One year, as we prepared to do the first dress rehearsal, I was sitting in the theater talking with a great old family friend when a dashingly handsome young man came and sat with us. We were introduced and I discovered his name was Matt and that he had relocated to the area a few months before. My flirt switch was activated and I was working it for all it was worth. It was somewhat mutual, I thought and I was having fun. Matt excused himself after about 30 minutes. The old family friend just stared at me. “What?” I asked. The friend asked when was the last time I had been to mass. It had been years I mumbled, looking away. With that, Matt reappeared. The family friend welcomed him back. But hold on… did he just say “Father Matt”? Yep… Father Matt. There’s never a lightning bolt when you need it. At least I was applying myself!
In high school we were all given these tests to see what our potential career should be. It was a tease to get those of us, not living up to our potential or applying ourselves, excited about our futures. I remember thinking this was a good thing. I’d get some direction and find my purpose in life. I had my number 2 pencils and was really going to buckle down, read the questions carefully, and fill in the dots with all the determined precision I could muster. I took the test and proudly presented to the instructor. Weeks went by until one day I saw the envelope in the day’s mail. Because it was addressed to my dad, I had to wait until he came home. Shortly after he arrived, we sat down together to open it. Rocket Scientist, Nurse, Teacher, Lawyer... What could it be? I had answered each question to the best of my ability. This test was touted as the best indicator of where your skills, passions, attitude and aptitude would take you. As my dad read the results, his face broke in to a smile; “wow” he said “I would have never thought this”. President of the United Sates? A Doctor? What was I destine to be? He handed me the results. The results stated that 85% of my answers conclusively showed that I should be… a Rabbi. Since I am neither a man nor Jewish, I knew then that I would really have to apply myself if I wanted to live up to my potential. But hey, never say never.
I clearly heard the dreaded “potential/apply” comment in Sunday school the year I was to make my Holy Communion. I was raised in a Catholic household. We were practicing Catholics for a while. My parents were raised in the faith, married and had children in the faith. My brother, sisters and I were all taken to church regularly and with the exception of me, all were baptized, celebrated Communion and were confirmed. Some would argue this, but I was not a demon child banned from receiving these sacraments. There were some changes in our home and after my communion, the tides turned and we did not attend church any longer. But the comment made by one tiny but mighty nun on that Sunday so many years ago has stayed with me all these years. Sister Rita Claire didn’t stand much taller than I did but it was never her physical size that could stop me in my tracks. There was something about her that was so frightening and commanding that had she asked me to run naked through the streets, I probably would have. So powerful were her words that to this day they come back and pepper my everyday life. As I think back, I spent a very short time with the Sister. I’ll never forget the day we were practicing the proper way to hold your arms, clasp your hands and walk in to church. We were lined up, boys on one side, girls on the other. I clearly remember standing next to Michael Good. Even as a very young girl I thought he was handsome and he smelled terrific. Ok maybe terrific is going overboard. He didn’t smell like Dial soap, like all the rest of us. I wonder if Mrs. Good used extra Downey or if they had some higher quality soap than the rest of us. Funny what you remember. So back to the sister… I must have been swooning over the closeness of Michael Good because I think I tripped or ran into the girl in front of me, but Sister Rita Claire said something about me having a rough life ahead of me because I couldn’t pay attention to anything, even as I was being welcomed into “God’s House”. I am surprised that there weren’t any thunder claps or bolts of lightning. She then mentioned that some people, inferring me, would never live up to their potential… if only they would apply themselves! At this point I believe we all prayed for me. She asked that they all keep me in their prayers, reminding them all that when you continuously pray for those less fortunate, your life will be all you ever wished for. Wonder how that’s working out for all of them. This bit of unpleasantness was parceled away in my head. Often I would think about the Sister and wonder if it was me or her who had issues. It was probably both of us. But I did learn from that little dynamo. Some of what she said has been the little voice in my head over the years. Years ago I was working at a hospital as a switchboard operator. Because this was a Catholic hospital, every night at 8:15 sharp, prayers were said over the public address system. Ironic, visiting hours ended at 8:30… so there was usually a captive audience for the evening prayer. I normally worked the midnight shift but was filling in for someone one summer evening. We all sat in a big room at a huge horseshoe shaped table with a phone panel in front of each of us. For security reasons, you had to have a key card to enter our work space. So that evening as I enjoyed the change of pace the evening shift held, I heard the door click as a key card was used. I looked up to see who was joining us… Sister Rita Claire came toward me. It had been 17 or 18 years since I had last seen her, but she looked exactly the same. I had to remind myself to breathe. “Good Evening Sister Rita Claire” automatically came from my lips before I even knew I was saying it… Her immediate recall astounded me. “Good Evening Sarah Ellanor”… As she presented the evening prayer to the sick, injured, the newly born and those preparing to pass on, I was impressed with her calm, peaceful way. I thought maybe I had been mistaken all those years ago. Maybe she really did want to foster only the best in me. As she spoke, she smiled so sweetly at me. I was so sure I had misjudged the Sister. Maybe she really did believe in me… Once she had completed the prayer, she came to where I was sitting. She took my hands in hers and I have to admit, lovingly caressed them. I was feeling nothing short a pure love and hope going through my body. She asked about my life. I proudly said I was married with 2 young children. There was a smile of recognition, a kiss on the forehead. As she left, she turned to me and said, “What parish are you with?” Before I could stop myself I blurted out that I was not with a parish. “Your children were baptized?” she asked. Looking down in shame I told her no, they weren’t. And then, after a heavy sigh, she said it. “You never did live up to your potential, if only you could apply yourself… May God be with you” and she was gone. To this day I’m very cautious when around nuns. I believe the good sister is still around and could pop up at any minute. I rue the day some unthinking person in the Catholic Church decided some nuns didn’t have to where their habits. I believe that is really playing dirty. Goes right along with undercover cops in my book. There should be some type of warning. I suppose the excessively large cross hanging around their neck may be a clue, but it’s not a clue you can always rely on. It could be an ill place fashion statement. While we’re at it, can we talk about aggravatingly handsome priests and how wrong that is? My siblings and I used to do Community Theater. Every year, one of the biggest parishes in our area did a fabulous musical variety show. The amount of money made off the show was astounding. One year, as we prepared to do the first dress rehearsal, I was sitting in the theater talking with a great old family friend when a dashingly handsome young man came and sat with us. We were introduced and I discovered his name was Matt and that he had relocated to the area a few months before. My flirt switch was activated and I was working it for all it was worth. It was somewhat mutual, I thought and I was having fun. Matt excused himself after about 30 minutes. The old family friend just stared at me. “What?” I asked. The friend asked when was the last time I had been to mass. It had been years I mumbled, looking away. With that, Matt reappeared. The family friend welcomed him back. But hold on… did he just say “Father Matt”? Yep… Father Matt. There’s never a lightning bolt when you need it. At least I was applying myself!
In high school we were all given these tests to see what our potential career should be. It was a tease to get those of us, not living up to our potential or applying ourselves, excited about our futures. I remember thinking this was a good thing. I’d get some direction and find my purpose in life. I had my number 2 pencils and was really going to buckle down, read the questions carefully, and fill in the dots with all the determined precision I could muster. I took the test and proudly presented to the instructor. Weeks went by until one day I saw the envelope in the day’s mail. Because it was addressed to my dad, I had to wait until he came home. Shortly after he arrived, we sat down together to open it. Rocket Scientist, Nurse, Teacher, Lawyer... What could it be? I had answered each question to the best of my ability. This test was touted as the best indicator of where your skills, passions, attitude and aptitude would take you. As my dad read the results, his face broke in to a smile; “wow” he said “I would have never thought this”. President of the United Sates? A Doctor? What was I destine to be? He handed me the results. The results stated that 85% of my answers conclusively showed that I should be… a Rabbi. Since I am neither a man nor Jewish, I knew then that I would really have to apply myself if I wanted to live up to my potential. But hey, never say never.
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