Pieces

With the all the challenges and difficulties of single motherhood, the day to day isn’t that different from what moms in relationships experience. Most kids tend to be whiny at the end of the day, and for the most part, the kids all go through the same phases and stages that we need to figure out, adjust to and understand. As moms, our patience runs out at different points depending on our personalities and we all tend to reach levels of ecstasy when looking at our sleeping child or smelling their yummy baby smell.  The basic dilemmas, problems and highlights are similar. We are all exhausted at the end of the day.

 Last night I was out with some of my mom friends and at 10 pm we were all stifling yawns. They are all married; some have one, two and in one case, four children; some are pregnant, but at ten at night we were all ready for sleep even though we bravely battled on with smiles until the first soldier (me) fell at 10.45.

The one thing that is definitely different between solo moms and coupled moms is what happens after the kids go to sleep. Let me preface my remarks by saying that while never a party animal, and always a fan of sleep by 11pm, in my heyday, I definitely went out quite a bit more than I do now. Additionally, while a multi tasker with jobs, errands and tasks, I am definitely not one to divide myself amongst people…specifically men. Never have I dated more than one man at a time. Even if it was just a couple of dates, I generally tried to start and stay with one guy before embarking on another potential relationship. 

Frankly, I am at a loss about dating with kids.  So far I have not come across an article in Vogue, Glamour, Elle, Laisha (Israeli women's magazine) or even a magazine as "intellectual" as Vanity Fair or Time that discusses dating and the single mom.  And I do differentiate between the single mom and the divorced mom.  Because my kids do not have a father and I don’t have an ex - spouse who at least to some extent helps out; either financially or actual face time, the man who enters my life will to some extent become my kids' dad.  Unless I get a babysitter or my parents come, we're not going to have a free weekend twice a month and on alternate Wednesdays. This is not because I am daddy shopping, necessarily, but because my girls are almost three and in their world man=abba(daddy) or saba (grandpa) depending on the gentleman's hair color. So while before I may have jumped into any potential relationship for a variety reasons, today I am much more deliberate and careful in my choices and in including a man in our daily life.

So here is my question for coupled women with kids….How do you do it all? And more specifically, because I'm pretty good at juggling, how do you change roles so quickly and easily?

Today I had coffee with a friend who is married with a child.  I remarked on this phenomenon.  She admitted that at times, especially during the first year after their child was born, it would’ve been nice to be alone with the baby and not have to navigate a personal relationship with her spouse as well. How even now, when their daughter is three she knows that she neglects her husband to some extent. Personally, I barely made it through the day that first year. If I had had to think about cooking, cleaning, straightening up, shaving my legs or nether regions, or even chatting with someone, let alone doing anything other than sleeping in my bed, I don’t know if I would have survived.  It seems to me that the most natural state of being; the "normative" family is something very difficult for me to conceptualize in terms of the mom vs. woman aspect.

Ladies, I am looking for input here. How do you manage to be mother earth by day and sexy goddess by night? Does the sexiness start seeping through your torn and tattered "play clothes" as soon as the kids are in bed or do you need to shower and put on lingerie? Do you need a glass of wine first? If you have spent a Tel Aviv summer afternoon in the park and made dinner, given baths and read 2000 stories and cuddled your babies to sleep, how do you make the switch to woman and not simply maid and caretaker? How do you not simply crawl in a heap of exhaustion to bed and to hell with your womanliness, his manliness and your hazy memory of sex?

I was recently kind of dating someone.  I say "kind of" because we didn’t really see each other that often. He decided that I didn’t want to have a relationship because I was very involved with my kids and because I told him that for the immediate future I didn’t see the need to get together every day, although had he bothered to ask I would’ve told him that every other week was a little meager, in my opinion. While it is disappointing that it didn’t continue it is far from devastating. I learned two things from the experience; that I do want to have a relationship and that I need to feel more comfortable with these two roles coexisting.

So ladies out there, please tell me your secrets, since I am trying to get back into the land of love, romance and relationships and enjoy life more fully.

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Us and Me

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As part of the final exercise for my coaching certification, we had to give feedback to each of our fellow students on which behavior/s each of us exhibited that really stood out during our eight months together. I thought it was a great way to see how people viewed me and was excited to hear the comments…after all this has been a very introspective process.

The one remark that I haven’t stopped thinking about is that I spoke a lot during the course about my space, my room, my time etc.  It struck me because of other things that have been happening lately. My babies are no longer babies.  They are almost three. They have opinions, likes and dislikes and they are not shy about expressing themselves.  How do establish a friendship with them while still enforcing rules and boundaries and repeating the endless NO that is part and parcel of life with a toddler.

In different conversations with various people from diverse walks of life I have had a similar discussion; the things I don’t do with my kids. I rarely take them with me on errands, unless it is one that lasts under five minutes. I rarely go to the grocery store with them, unless I just need to pick up five or less items. If we go on a day trip, I either go with family or my babysitter. They didn’t come to the Passover seder and if I am having a Friday night dinner, it starts after they go to sleep.

Part of this is simply that until now, that is when they were smaller, it was much easier to do these things on my own and I always had a babysitter for several hours a day, so I had the time to do it. Also, while that age is farther away from me than I like to admit, I still shudder when I think of having to go with my mother to do all these tedious errands. Some of it is that I don’t have a lot of friends with kids, who  a. live nearby b. have kids of a similar age or c. at all. But some of it, I must admit is that I have divided myself between us and me.

I am a compartmentalizer.  I have files for everything and to some extent this has also extended to the people in my life. I have my Chicago friends, New York friends and Israel friends. My Jerusalem friends and my Tel Aviv friends; my religious friends and my not religious friends; friends with kids and friends without children. I have begun to realize that while this method has worked for me in the past (maybe) it is not working for me now. At least not with my kids.  They aren’t outsiders; they are my family. The grocery shopping and laundry and holidays are for them and a part of them and are memories for them.  Now that they're almost three it is time to include them and watch them enjoy and learn.  When I look at them I see they are no longer babies. They're bodies have become little girl bodies and when we converse I actually understand what they're saying.

The other night a friend from the United States was here and suggested we go out for dinner…with the girls.  I immediately said no…but then I remembered what my friend from school told me and how my new approach is to relax, enjoy and include. So I said yes. It was certainly not a relaxing dinner over a glass of wine with meaningful conversation on a variety of subjects. It included spilled drinks, seven trips to the bathroom in 20 minutes (we're in the midst of potty training) crayons, stickers and about 100 wipes. But it was dinner at a restaurant with my family. And it was fine, pleasant, even fun…although of a different variety than once upon a time. It certainly helped that my friend was good natured and helpful.

Maybe I'm just a slow learner, but only now am I  realizing that my adjustment to motherhood is still ongoing. While I have adjusted to getting up at 6am and the 24/7 nature of my job and the midnight wake up call, I hadn’t really internalized that I have little people in my life who are part of my social life. Maybe when they're babies it's easier to separate because essentially you are a caretaker albeit a very loving one. But now they are little girls and they are the joy and loves of my life. It's time to become friends and not just a custodian. I am so looking forward to the continuation of our journey together and establishing an even more complete bond.

Maternal Instinct

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Maternal instinct: a mother's innate instinct to protect and care for her offspring. Why is there no term "Paternal Instinct"? Does the concept exist? Is it learned and not innate?

I have a friend who is in his early fifties. He desperately wants a child. He is looking into all the different ways to have (get?) one. I think it is cool. I wonder why I don’t think it is especially "cool" when a woman friend does it. It seems normal to me whereas a guy, well, that is something extra. It sort of bothers me that I have a different standard. While ruminating, I think of what a woman friend said to me just this past week…that wanting to have a child, the yearning for a baby, is completely different from actually having a child. At the time I laughed and thought "how true". But now, on second thought, isn’t that how most experiences are? Don’t we have an idealized picture of a life partner? marriage? "happily ever after"? Is the fantasy of motherhood really any different than the fantasy mate or the fantasy life that we create for ourselves? I don’t think so.  I have concluded that like everything, it is all about our expectations.

The difference, I imagine, is that with marriage and relationships there is a trial period; you can live together and get an idea of what your life together will be like.  With a baby there is none of that. You go from the dream state of pregnancy (assuming it is an easy pregnancy), fantasizing, decorating the baby's room, and choosing names to BAM! crying, exhaustion, and constantly trying to figure out what he wants and why he isn’t happy since you’ve just fed/changed/burped him.  You dreamed about this perfect child who eats and sleeps on schedule, goes six hours without waking and because of your maternal instinct you just know what he wants. You answer his need -of -the -moment and back to sleep he goes. Ahh…..not so much. If you’ve been reading my posts, or any other real moms' posts, you know, at least intellectually, that it doesn’t usually work that way. Of course there are moms with dream babies…I just don’t know them. I hear about them usually in baby books but I have yet to meet a real mom with a dream baby.  Is it possible that the dream baby is a figment of baby book gurus designed to make the rest of us feel incompetent, guilty and even more overwhelmed and out of control? Or is it simply an unreal expectation? 

When my girls were teeny, they cried almost daily from 4-6 in the afternoon. Most of us experience those hours as difficult at best. It still remains the hardest time of day. They're tired and crabby and demanding and now that they're older they can "gang up" on me. What makes it somewhat easier is that I know it is not just in my house. I hear whining children up and down the street (one of the true "pleasures" of living in a warm climate is open windows and the sounds from all the other houses on the street). I am able to stress out a little bit less. Somehow, knowing I am not alone makes it easier to cope.  My natural instinct is to cry, scream, yell out of frustration and run and hide under the covers. I would like to think that it is my maternal instinct that allows me to plod on, but more likely, the knowledge that I don't have a choice is what spurs me on….or the knowledge that in another hour they will finally be in bed sleeping and then I can go back to thinking how beautiful, gorgeous, brilliant and amazing they are.

I would love to have another baby; the warm smell, the nursing the cuddling and bonding…. That is maternal. Then reality sets in…the crying, bouncing, pacing, rocking; endless hours of no sleep and maternal instinct runs to the hills. I adore my girls; seriously I am madly in love. I treasure every second, as hard as it is, even the most trying of moments but now that I know what to expect I'm not sure I want to do it again.

I wish someone would write a real life story without rose colored glasses. That finding a mate, if at all, is not easy; that there are disappointments, frustrations and heartbreaks along the way. That even when (if?!) you find him it isn’t easy, that it still requires lots of work and attention. That having children is challenging and the most difficult thing most of us ever do, and juggling spouse, kids, home and job is a full time job in itself. But, even with all the challenges and obstacles we can live happily ever after.

The Thermos

For those of you unfamiliar with IVF in Israel, here is a brief description of the process. The procedure is done in private hospitals. The frozen sperm is kept in public hospitals. So the obvious question is how does it get from one hospital to the other? Well, this is Israel; and while I hear lots of olim (new immigrants) complain about the bureaucracy, having lived in the United States as well, it is not any more bureaucratic. BUT, here everything is always funnier, more charming and makes for wonderful anecdotes, but I digress. So, how do you transport frozen sperm? Well, in a thermos of course.

Let me digress again. I live in Central Tel Aviv, the equivalent to Manhattan. I don’t have a car because most everything I need is steps away and also, like in Manhattan, but even more complex, if that is possible, is the parking situation.  One needs a special PH.D to decipher the parking signs and a direct line to Gd in order to find a parking spot. 

Back to the issue at hand; one can go pick up their sperm by bus, bike, car, or taxi.  Since my sperm was at a hospital 30 minutes away by car, and since I was saving all my shekels for supporting my future children, I opted to go by bus.

So, picture this: I go to the private hospital to check out my thermos. I leave an enormous check as a deposit, because they're afraid I might not return it… Yes, I am planning to put my coffee in this thermos after the sperm is delivered (?????!!!!). I get on a local bus to the intra-city bus to the public hospital where my sperm is ladled (yes, ladled) into my thermos.  They don’t close the thermos tightly because of something to do with air pressure and the temperature of the sperm (never very clear to me). Now I go back to the bus stop to get the intra-city bus to the city bus to the hospital.  The entire way back I'm thinking if the bus stops short and my not so tightly sealed thermos opens and out flies the sperm, not only will I have lost the money on my sperm, but will the hospital give me back the enormous deposit if the top goes rolling, and someone trips and falls, and is sperm slippery, and is the bus company liable, will my insurance pay for said slippage and is slippage anything like shrinkage and boy that’s pretty Freudian especially since I'm transporting sperm…

ANYWAY, I finally make it to the private hospital with no leakage, slippage, spillage or shrinkage; leave the sperm, get my check back and carry on.

This happened four times.  On the fifth try, my friend Gila, who had just gotten a new job and a new car befitting her new position, offered to drive me.  She had cute little quips the whole way there and back which were pretty gross and inappropriate but had me giggling nonetheless and wondering if I was really meant to be a mom. Needless to say, there was no spillage or shrinkage and in fact, two little miracles came from it.

I have been studying to become a life coach. One of the principals is win-win. If a relationship isn’t win-win, both sides are not getting a relatively equal degree of benefit from it. This is a win-lose or even a lose-lose relationship and is doomed.  Gila is one of a few friends that I feel I have a win- win type of relationship with.

When I got pregnant with the girls, I realized I would have very little time to myself.  I decided that all the people in my life who I didn’t have a win win friendship with needed to be uprooted, that I finally had a good enough reason to do it.  (Let's not delve for now into the obvious; if it wasn’t working for me then it was a good enough reason to end it).

Through it all my friend Gila has been a constant source of biting humor and staunch support. I read blogs all the time about the non-mom friends who don’t get it. I have a few of those myself.  She is a non-mom friend who gets it and I feel lucky to have her in my life.

Signs

Last night I was invited to a birthday party of a girl I know. The invite read "another year of being in denial". Considering that she is around 40 the use of the word girl on my part is my own form of denial. While there, I ran into another friend and we chatted and she said that she had been thinking that this year she was turning 40 and maybe it was time to really consider single motherhood. Just then, she got an email from me announcing my new business and website and she saw it as a sign that she was going in the right direction.

I feel that my entire life has been a practice in sign reading. From a young age, we learned bible stories, the snake and Eve, Moses and the burning bush. We were indoctrinated on signs.  I was always so sure that the "sign" precipitated an event or a major decision, and maybe it did.  In retrospect, I feel like the signs were a way for me to give up control of my power to choose and be responsible for the decisions I make… it allowed me to stay a girl, even at 40 +++.

Today, I feel like an adult.  There are things about it I hate. I look in the mirror and I see wrinkles. I have to color my hair every 4 weeks. I remember as a "girl" in my thirties meeting up with a friend of mine in her forties and seeing her hands and thinking "she has old looking hands". Now my hands look like that. I don’t see the girl I was. I see a grown woman.

 I won't wear a mini skirt anymore and I even wonder if I'm at an age where a bikini is a little too much. When I get dressed to go out, the clothes are different than before. Don’t get me wrong, I hardly look like some dowdy middle aged woman and I haven’t given up on my womanliness or sexuality; I don’t look my age and I am young at heart; just not as young as before.  However, I am aware that somewhere between the last relationship, the first fertility treatment, and the twins being born I became an adult.  It is scary to be grown up. It is terrifying to realize you are responsible for other people. It is also exciting and satisfying. At some point in the last three years I became aware that I am in control of my life and my destiny and that signs are for the undecided.

The Book

My girlfriend Eti has been telling me for years that I need to write a book. In my mind it would read like "Sex and the City". I have never asked her to compare it to a TV show, but I'm pretty sure it's along the same lines…with a little "Friends" thrown in.

My life today is more like "The Flying Nun". I fly about all day every day working, caring for my kids, caring for my house… The nun part I'm sure you can figure out on your own.

Life has certainly changed since the arrival of the girls. Whereas before I would spend the majority of my time thinking, obsessing and talking about men or a specific man now I think, obsess and talk about my children.

The book has changed to a blog. The topic has changed from my shenanigans and escapades as a single woman to that of a single mother. Today's book would have the following chapters.

1. My journey from singlehood to deciding to embark on motherhood

2. Needles and blood tests and ultrasounds, OH MY!

3. IM HAVING TWINS?!?!?!?!!!!

4. You're kidding, I'm having TWINS???!??!!

5. The NICU and neo natal unit

6. Exhaustion and Joy, who knew they could co-exist?

7. I am the luckiest person in the world to have the two most perfect, beautiful amazing children ever

8. Guilt – because of what I did, what I didn’t do, what I should’ve done, could’ve done, etc.

9. The mother vs. the woman…is she still in there? Hellloooo???!!!

10. Counting my blessings

It says in Pirkei Avot, (Ethics of our Fathers) "… acquire for yourself a friend ". … וקנה לך חבר". From everything I've heard, read and listened to, the biggest problem mothers have, especially single mothers, even more than the sleeplessness, the financial hardship, and the loneliness is asking for help.

It sounds so easy, doesn’t it? Well in theory it is. But, after close to twenty years, of going it alone, we all become quite independent and adept at taking care of ourselves and we are out of practice when it comes to asking for help.  After becoming a mother, things can and do easily spiral out of our control. Of course, it always seems to happen whenever you need to do something else critically important; a long scheduled doctor's appointment, an important meeting, a project due at work. Living in Israel does allow more flexibility than some other countries; employers tend to be more understanding and forgiving of family emergencies than in some other countries, but still… there is a limit to the number of times you can leave early, arrive late or not come in at all because your little one is sick.

If you're in a relationship then you and your partner can switch off. But what happens if it is just you? What if your parents and family live far away or out of the country or for other reasons such as sickness or frailty can't help? Then what?

Well, another nice thing about living in Israel is that the neighbors, for good and for bad, become a part of your extended families.  This is one of the things I have always loved about living here and one of the main reasons I found living in Manhattan so difficult.  But still, can you really knock on a neighbor's door at 2am? Actually, luckily, I can. I have three neighbors who I really do believe I could wake up in the middle of the night for help… But would I??!!!

When I was pregnant I did a lot of things alone, that in retrospect, I shouldn’t have…carried groceries up stairs, prepared holiday meals for fifteen guests, gave up on sleep to talk to a friend in need, because that's who I am and that's what I do. I believe that although I slowed down, as ordered by my doctor, I didn’t slow down enough.   I didn’t really get it. I was still operating as I always had just with the slight addition of a baby bump.

Now that I have the girls, I still do things on my own for the most part.  Thank Gd, the road thus far has been relatively calm, safe and healthy and I haven’t had to reach out.

But there is another piece.  The emotional piece.  The drain.  The mental exhaustion.  You need a friend.  Sometimes you just need to get out of the house and have someone listen to you complain and to sympathize. Maybe you're lucky enough to find someone who can actually empathize. I think it is incredibly important to realize that while you may have run a successful business with tens of employees and managed fantastically under pressure, one baby can leave you bewildered and wondering what became of that successful person you once were. I read posts all the time in my mommy groups about new moms who talk about how they are going to figure out how to make their week/month old infant sleep all night so that they can too.  This process is humbling and this little 3-4 kilo baby is completely in charge of your entire life.  It is mind boggling.  Many of us don’t shower, use the facilities, or eat at the beginning for fear of waking the little princess or that the little one will cry for 32 seconds or that the sweet thing will be upset if you aren’t holding him.  You need a friend. You need someone to lean on, help you and relieve you, if only for an hour or two.

It gets easier, really.  But especially for older moms, in my view, moms who have been single independent women for a long time, it might be hard to reach out.  I am suggesting you do it anyway, for your piece of mind and to retain a remnant of the old you. The baby will still be there in an hour….