Clearing my throat

I knew when I started this blog that I would want to talk about certain...struggles I've had and continue to have in this life. Depression, anxiety and weight. I group them together in this context because they are all intertwined. I continue to work on all 3 and the emotional gunk that lies underneath. I have recently started with a new therapist with whom I really connect well. I am a huge proponent of therapy, for me it has been and continues to be a vital component to my well-being.

Growing up, I was probably considered not shy but maybe a little timid. Looking back, I remember being just kind of...afraid. Afraid to take chances, speak up for myself, be different -- afraid of not being liked or having someone be mad at me. I guess these are fairly typical concerns for most kids, but thinking back on it as an adult - I felt paralyzed much of the time. I come from a long line, on both sides of my family, of a history of depression and anxiety, so given the genetical factor that is known now, it's not too surprising that I hit the jackpot on these.

There is the constant rebalancing of so many little pieces to depression and anxiety. Meds are just a part of it for me and is something I will have to re-evaluate for the rest of my life when need be. Exercise is a HUGE part of this for me. It is so clear that when I am staying active and taking good physical care of my body, that it has a huge positive impact on everything else. I know that a lot of this is just common sense really. A collection of mamaisms, if you will: eat healthy, exercise, slow down (this is especially tough for me), etc. Being respectful of yourself. Taking the time to give to yourself whatever it is that you need. I think this may be why I am drawn to Buddhism now. Being in the moment and being conscious of your thoughts, actions, words, choices...that it is important to PAY ATTENTION. This is an ongoing, organic practice and I try to remember that each day, each minute is a chance to practice. I will never get it right all the time - I don't think we are supposed to. Much like the butterfly that requires the struggle to break out of the cocoon so that it can have the strength to fly - we need these struggles as well so that we can find our power and our voices.

Heather Armstrong has a blog, called Dooce. She has tremendous courage and has written quite candidly and with raw beauty about her own struggles with depression and anxiety. I've read many of her posts and thought "Oh, I've been there." And so I want to be one more voice out here. Telling my story.

We have already seen and heard from so many women in such a short period of time with Mamaisms Gear -- that same kind of recognition and alliance in each other. It's the concurrent celebration of how much we share in common and how each individual's story matters.

Barely contained

Okay, so The Big Idea with Donny Deutsch was a huge success and so freaking exciting to watch. I was dancing around the bedroom while Joe looked on incredulously at his drunk-with-possibility wife. I have stopped being completely obsessed with checking the hit counter on the site in case you were concerned...

Oprah? Are you paying attention?? We are coming your way!

I cannot begin to tell you how incredible the enthusiasm and support we are receiving is and has been. Thank you!

Mamaisms Gear & The Big Idea

I am soooooo anxious and excited. Tina (my sister) and Jane spent the day in NJ taping a segment that will air tonight on 'The Big Idea with Donny Deutsch' show on CNBC.

Our recently-launched company, Mamaisms Gear, IS GOING TO BE MENTIONED ON NATIONAL TV, people!

The woman I am

In all my memories of her, she is petite but feisty as hell. Strong and opinionated but kind and loving. We'd play Scrabble until 3am when I'd spend the night as a young teenager. We still play Scrabble and have a running competition going on 17 years now.

Every fiber of my being is drenched in memories of times spent with her. She is one of my best friends, my biggest cheerleader, and the inspiration for a budding business. I am thinking of her almost constantly these days - with worry and reflection and the sadness that comes with watching her grow older and more frail. I want her to know how it is not and was not the house or the car or the pool that filled me up with the essence of her - that had such a huge impact on the woman I am today - but that it was and is her love, spirit and wisdom that has steeped like a cup of tea that I will drink from for the rest of my life.

His parent's child

This morning in my house was a little stressful. Sam, our son, does not like to get up in the morning. He most definitely gets this from both of us. Left to our own body clocks, we'd stay up late and sleep late. Let me put it to you this way...he is 7 years old and I had to wake him up on Christmas morning.
So this morning, in an effort to perhaps make tomorrow morning a little more bearable, I thought I'd provide some enticement.

"Hey Sam, how about if we get up a bit earlier tomorrow and get out the door a bit earlier, I will take you to Krispy Kreme on the way to school for a donut? How about that?"

"Mom, I'm just not a morning guy."

Lemme tell ya, kid - I know just how you feel.

A caterpillar's dream to fly

This is not a mommy blog...[not that there's anything wrong with that!]...but my plan and hope is to write about many aspects of my life.

BUT, I love being a mom. I have a 7-year old son and damn if he is not the cutest thing EVER to me. Yes, of course he drives me up a wall every now and then, but truly, for the most part - I adore him. He is what is fondly and admonishingly referred to in my extended family as a "Super Son".

This nickname was originally coined in reference to my grandmother's treatment of my uncle (my mother's younger brother and the middle child). He could do no wrong and was always catered to upon entering my grandmother's house. And while we laughed about it - even with my grandmother and my uncle - it was entirely true. It was only after having a son of my own that I now understand the phenomenon. I have only one child as well, so really, he is "Super-Duper Son".

And this somewhat relates to a kind of intersection of conversations, if you will, that I have had recently. All having to do with the question of how much we should or should not: gloss over issues for, protect, run interference for, lie to, okay you get the point now...our children.

It is sometimes, if not most of the time, a fine line. But I believe that we do have a responsibility to our children to both prepare them and protect them. As parents, we are constantly evaluating what our kids can handle on their own, perhaps pushing them slightly to learn to cope with life's inevitable difficulties and when it is better, whether from their own preference or ours, to keep our hand on their shoulder.

I hope that I ultimately make good choices in my parenting - at least most of the time. I know that I have not always and will not always get it right. Because while he is my beautiful, sweet super son? I still want him to grow up to be a great big beautiful butterfly. To be his own person, capable of anything and everything he can dream of. And confident to make the decisions regarding his own life.

And in the process, I find I am breaking out of my own cocoon. In parenting our kids, we get the chance to re-parent ourselves. It kind of feels like throwing out the crap cards you were dealt, keeping the good and taking the new ones. Only this time...I get to be the dealer.

I hope we're giving him a good hand to start out with in life. I hope we are giving him everything he needs so that when the struggle comes along, hard as it may be, he'll be able to get through it and more importanly maybe, is knowing that you can and will get through it.

Here is the story that was passed on to me:

A man spent hours watching a butterfly struggling to emerge from its cocoon. It managed to make a small hole, but its body was too large to get through it. After a long struggle, it appeared to be exhausted and remained absolutely still. The man decided to help the butterfly and, with a pair of scissors, he cut open the cocoon, thus releasing the butterfly. However, the butterfly’s body was very small and wrinkled and its wings were all crumpled. The man continued to watch, hoping that, at any moment, the butterfly would open its wings and fly away. Nothing happened; in fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its brief life dragging around its shrunken body and shrivelled wings, incapable of flight. What the man - out of kindness and his eagerness to help - had failed to understand was that the tight cocoon and the efforts that the butterfly had to make in order to squeeze out of that tiny hole were Nature’s way of training the butterfly and of strengthening its wings. Sometimes, a little extra effort is precisely what prepares us for the next obstacle to be faced. Anyone who refuses to make that effort, or gets the wrong sort of help, is left unprepared to fight the next battle and never manages to fly off to their destiny.
(Adapted from a story by Sonaira D’Avila)

A new chapter

The start of 2008 feels like the start of a new chapter in my life - not just the start of another year. I am part of two new businesses, embarking on the next leg of an emotional and spiritual journey, reconciling relationships all over the damn place and making decisions more consciously than ever before.
The word that comes to mind for what I want is fluidity. If things are moving - emotions, words, intentions, actions - life is in progress.