Joys and Challenges

The days before Mariam leaves are an emotional rollercoaster. "What am I going to tell the kids? They're so attached to her," I think, lying in bed and staring at the moon. "And what about me? I can't handle my family and run my business without her. And yet, in the midst of my panic, I become aware of a part of me that's rejoicing because Mariam is leaving...

Sometimes I look at my living family and feel so filled with love that I could radiate with it, overwhelmed with joy to the point of spilling incoherent tears because these people are just so amazing. But even those heavenly moments of crazy-lady love are so augmented by the constant presence of grief that happiness is now a completely different emotion than it once was...

I would reach out over the edge of the cliff to feel the spray of the waves and to see the moonlight reflected off my fingernails. I closed my palm to grasp the silver rays, but the light was far, far away; it belonged to another world. A world I could not yet reach...

I don’t give into these explosions of emotions. I’ve read the literature to ignore and contain the tantruming child which I’ve tried to follow dutifully. But to my shock, dismay and even guilt that I have not raised her well, they keep on coming...

I wonder if she is comforted knowing that as our relationship evolves Mommy is still here for her. Even though it appears that I’m pushing her away...

It seems like women return to the work force after years at home are altering the workplace, beginning with the advent of a whole new language...

As I picked a little space in the corner, there was a tug on my skirt. Moo's shining, little face was upturned, "Gimme a kiss!" How could I refuse? And then, "Ok, bye Mommy."

I am here with my son, Adin, now seventeen years old. When he was two and a half he choked on a grape, sustaining a severe brain injury as a result of that horrific accident. For twelve years he remained relatively stable, but that all changed two years ago...

When everyone is somewhat quietly engrossed in their food, I return to my room to try to wake myself up, thinking all the while, "It is 5:30 in the morning and I am being treated like a waitress." The rest of the morning doesn't usually go any better...

the broken vase on the floor is just that, a broken vase—and the spilled milk is easily cleaned up. Women who watch me ask me how I have such patience. The patience comes with perspective...

The internet is an amazing thing. In an instant, mothers from all over the world can connect with each other online. We share interests, tips, stories about our children; we compare ourselves and pick one another apart...

I began to "get it". My son is creating space to put new boundaries, those that will be established around his autonomy, independence and free spirit...

Everyone readily admits that parenting is physically and emotionally demanding. But, intellectually demanding? That's overlooked...

The part about the oxygen masks always gets to me...

We can read, learn, and intellecutalize to refine our mothering methods--but the bottom line is: we don't need to behave like a mother, we need to roll up our sleeves and be a mother.

Now, three boys later, I feel like a pie- everybody wants a piece of me. Well, I am running out of "pieces," as well as my sanity...

People said that, given our disabilities, we'd be irresponsible if we went ahead and had a baby.

"Loser! You are wasting your higher education on changing diapers and wiping runny noses! You are squandering your potential on scrubbing dirty dishes and baking macaroni and cheese casserole!" It's at moments like this that I know that no tape or book or inspiring thought can provide the heavy-duty help I need...

It seems that my daughter is expected to appear in school each day with a ponytail, which is taken as a sign that she has a good mother. And I have foolishly allowed her to choose how she wishes to wear her hair...

I see you throwing things with an awesome force when you don't get your way. I see you running to me for protection when our turtle gets too close to your toes. And at the same time, I see you growing up, towering over me...