Life as a mother is a constant work in progress. You’ve probably figured this out already, but no one ever has all the answers. We are always searching, and sometimes the search can be very interesting…

Early this morning I was reading Deepak Chopra’s novel “Buddha.” Late last night, I was flipping through, “How to Talk So Teens Will Listen and Listen So Teens Will Talk.” Then I stopped for a minute to ponder the strange and wonderous intersection between these two incredibly different texts.

The Buddha book is about living with compassion and accepting and overcoming pain. It is, essentially, about rising above our physical selves and acknowledging that our day-to-day worries are minor in the face of the awesomeness of the universe.

Cool stuff. But what about paying the bills or getting the kids to school on time?

We struggle to deal with the burdens of our real lives (and whether they are small or large, everyone has burdens) by holding onto a sense that there is something larger at play, something that puts the little irritations or big burning desires into perspective.

When I think about these considerations in respect to the teens book I was just reading, it makes me laugh. The teen book is so enlightening and sensible in its own way, and so utterly the opposite of the Chopra novel. Put the two together and I think you have the essential quandary of the life of a parent: how to marry the concerns of the everyday with the perspective of an enlightened human!

Everyday reality is something us moms  cannot really transcend — we have to figure out the nuts and bolts of dealing with hormonal kids or exacting work demands or babies needing food. But if we can do it all with some humor, with an understanding that it’s ok to be doing the best we can (as opposed to being perfect), and that there are forces at work that are larger than us… well, then I think we’ll all be all right in the end.

Summer. What does summer mean? DOING NOTHING. Nothing.

Is there anything harder than working in a windowless office in the summer? All anyone wants is to feel the breeze, the heat on their skin, sear their eyes in the sunlight, have a big cool drink (because they’re hot), wear almost no clothing. No one wants to sit under the hum of an air conditioner, freezing cold indoors, needing fluorescent lighting to see what’s in front of them, wearing heels and suits and pantyhose and ugh, make-up!

When we’re grown up, when we work, when we don’t have a window in our office, we can only dream of those summer days when we were kids and ran around screaming, with ice cream drips leaving snail trails over our chins.

We hope and pray our own children get to experience what we so loved about summer…. many magical days of doing nothing. No camp, no summer projects, no appointments. Only TIME… time to discover how bored we are, how excruciatingly bored, and then time to go into the zone, to embrace the boredom, to realize that this boredom is the ultimate freedom and, boy, does it feel good.

So here’s a suggestion. Make it happen. Give yourself the gift of some boredom this summer. Take a day a week when you do NOTHING. No laundry, no paperwork, no phone calls, nothing. Let your children experience the exquisite pleasure of being so bored they willingly pick up a book, build a fairy house out of moss, or talk with their much-younger sibling about life or friends or why human’s palms have lines on them.

In the summer, we owe it to ourselves even more to make sure we’re not just stuck — physically and psychologically — in that windowless office, doing our duty, being good, oh-so-good, and missing the summer skies just outside.

Like good old Arnie, we’re baaaaack with a vengeance after our little break. Got a cover design that WE LOVE — this is almost as exciting as when McGraw Hill bought the book! Can you imagine handing your baby to someone and saying, hey, no biggie — you name her, you decide what she’s going to look like, and by the way, if you like the name Gertrude or Frederika, no problem. We can roll with the punches.

We’ve been having such interesting conversations about how to give a book a really great title. Oh boy. It is HARD, we can tell you that!

In many ways, it’s not unlike naming a baby. You know when you have a cool name you think is just so different and chic, or solid and respectful, or fun and cute, and someone just comes right out and says, “Ugh!” and then gives their list of reasons they hate it. Sounds bad, weird, hard to say, too boring, knew and hated a person named that… Naming people–or things–is so highly subjective there’s no way you can please everyone.

So it is with books too. But when you hear a great name, you know it. We’re waiting to get that “Yesssss!” feeling when we hit on a perfect title.

We’ll be on a hiatus for a few weeks as we wrap up our writing. Keep tuned! Maybe next time you hear from us, we’ll have a cool new baby with a cool new name…

We just got back from running a bunch of focus groups in Northern California. Boy, that was fun! It always gives us a kick when we talk to mothers far and wide and hear the same concerns, hopes and dreams reflected in their stories. One major difference: NO ONE OUT THERE HAS TO DEAL WITH CABIN FEVER AND ICY DRIVEWAYS! If anything, they have the opposite problem: so much great weather, there’s never an excuse to hunker down under a blanket in front of the TV and let your brain (and that of your children) go to mush.

Hmm, difficult trade-off? Not.

We came back full of beans. Like when we heard from the frazzled mom in Australia — when we were just starting to write the book — and thought yeah! we’re on to something! Or when the mom from Germany complained about feeling guilty that her son played too much X-Box! Yeah! We all let down our guard sometimes — even those super, self-controlled Germans (I can say that: I am one!).

So here’s the thought-of-the-day: We’re all trying as hard as we can.

We got the following anecdote from Maureen (who was answering one of our questionnaires for the book) and it set off all sorts of familiar alarm bells ringing in our selfish little ears:

I just asked my two daughters to empty the dishwasher and I got the following two responses:
1. “I did it the last time a kid did it!”
2. “I just finished finals and I can’t do anything else…!”
(I ended up sharing the chore with the one who had just had finals.)

I also have two boys and their attitude about household chores is, well, rather male! I am wondering if I/we are raising a generation of spoiled kids who don’t even know how to do laundry when they get into college… do we let them off the hook too much just to avoid conflict? I know I do; it’s the path of least resistance.

Oh boy… children and chores… oil and water. We all know kids should be learning to participate in the family, but getting them to help in a meaningful way TAKES SO MUCH WORK!!!!!!! Do we have time for that? Is it really so important? What do you think?

Is it possible that if mothers were more selfish, kids would have to buck up and do some of the grunt work themselves?!

Sometimes I just want to laugh till I cry. I remember watching the Eurovision Song contest in London with a friend when I was a teenager — those were the huge hair, big shoulder pad days — and laughing till I wet my pants. I want to have that kind of fun again. The I-need-to-wear-Depends kind of fun.

What do you do for laughs? The last time I can remember really having a blast was when I was on holiday with my husband for my 40th birthday. (I won’t go into details…) A few years before that, I had one of the best nights of my life on a tiny old rollercoaster in Santa Cruz, California. Sometimes, at home, I’ll turn up the music really high and dance around with the kids. Now that’s fun. Especially when you’re singing ABBA tunes at the top of your lungs, rivaled only by your fuzzy-lipped, ACDC-loving teenage son… We all need more fun in our lives. Don’t you think?

When we say our book is about taking care of yourself so you can take care of others, what does that really mean?

Well, it means taking quiet time every day. Five minutes or five hours, whatever you can swing. It means knowing yourself and determining your priorities. It even means sometimes putting yourself and your desires before those of the children. While most of the hundreds of women we’ve been speaking with cringe at the word selfish (because more than anything they aspire to being more selfless), each and every one agreed that she felt better–and did a better all-around job–when her own needs were being met.

When was the last time you did something for yourself? Did you feel guilty about it–because deep down you’re not so sure you really deserve it?

Every time I sneak away into a comfy corner to read a book, I feel guilty. There’s all that laundry, those dishes, the school-related paperwork to file… oh, and that book to write! Last year while doing research for a different project, I’d watch Fassbinder films on my laptop (research, I said! Not for fun, no!)… and I always felt like I was shirking my duties.

And then I’d kind of wake up: this was my life, my work, my passion. Why did I feel I needed to justify it… and anyway, who was giving me a hard time about it? I was!

Tell us about your guilty pleasures. Do you really think they’re so bad?

After my kids make brownies, I enter the war-zone of my kitchen and have to bite my tongue (hard!) not to scream about the chocolate-covered counters and buttery cutlery scattered everywhere. When my husband and I make our bed, I stand there staring at him wide-eyed, amazed he doesn’t think to pull the sheets taut unless I tell him to. When I sit at the computer, I can’t rest until I’ve assured myself I’ve thought of everything — everything – I need to do to make my work as good as it can possibly be.

And, get this, I am no perfectionist! One look at my front hallway, linen closet, laundry room, book-keeping techniques (or lack thereof), my kids’ backpacks or bedrooms and you’d suss me out immediately: Slob. Lazy. Too busy to care.

Well, actually, none of the above. I do care, I’ve just learned I have to let go. No way I can be a helicopter parent, or even just a decent house-manager, and also be a happy, efficient, productive and sane woman.

What are your war stories? What really pushes your buttons and what do you let slide? Do you feel guilty about hovering too much or not enough? Is there a happy medium?

Mothers’ reluctance to focus on self care is understandable. It’s probably way down on your list of priorities. After all, who wants to get their teeth drilled? You’d much rather finish a spreadsheet or fold laundry than get a pap smear or a mammogram! And who wants to spend money on a babysitter so you can go get prodded and poked, or sit and talk to a therapist while the minutes tick away—minutes when you could be productively doing something else… something that counts?

Frankly, when you’re young, there’s just not that much upkeep. Then the babies come, and it seems as if you’re at the OBGYN’s office every other day. During those child-bearing years, you know exactly what your blood pressure is or whether your nutrition is adequate, not to mention there are scores of professionals at hand to help you in a heartbeat if you’re having concerns of any sort. Whether or not it’s a hassle, you do it all, for the health of your baby.
And then… the years go by… and you begin noticing small things. Maybe you get tired more easily or don’t heal as quickly. Friends and family suffer illnesses and suddenly you seem to know ten women with breast cancer. Pre-menopause hits; you start dealing with aging parents; you stop feeling invincible. But aging doesn’t have to be misery and gloom.
Every woman can age gracefully and live a long, energetic life as long as she remembers to treat herself with care and respect. Since no one else is looking out for us the way we look out for our children, we have to step up to the plate and look after ourselves. Simply put: it’s our responsibility!