The Portable Mother

It takes a comadre

2009-03-02T08:30:00.001-06:00

In Hispanic culture there is a concept called a comadre or co-mother.

A comadre was originally the Godmother in a child's baptism. Being a comadre implied a sacred and lifelong commitment to both the child and to the mother. A comadre was the woman you could count on for absolutely anything.

Today, the term comadre has come to mean a friend so close to you, that you consider her to be your sister/mother. She is best friend to you and to your children.

Don’t do it alone. All women need comadres. All children need the comadres of their mother to turn to.

Hilary Clinton used the African phrase, “It takes a village” to raise a child.

I say, it takes a comadre to be alive and well in this world.

How to pee in a bedpan.

2009-02-27T11:56:00.004-06:00

Someday, I swear, you will thank me for this. I wish someone had told me how to pee in a bedpan.

Because: IT IS REALLY HARD!

You never even think about it. You assume that when you have to go, you just will. Not.

Men are used to peeing with their feet on the ground. Women are using to peeing either sitting or squatting. A lifetime of conditioning has taught you never to pee in a bed, and never to pee lying down. And there you are, laying in your hospital bed and you’re handed a bedpan. It is not a surprise to find you can't.

1. Get everyone out of the room. The nurse slid a bedpan under me, and then stood there. You cannot pee in a bedpan with an audience. Ask her to leave and that you’ll ring the buzzer when you’re done.

2. If you can bend one knee, do. If you can bend two knees, even better.

3. Relax your mouth. Exhale with a big sigh. “Ahhhhh……” You have to hear a significant relaxing sigh come out of your mouth. You can't just "think" the sigh, you must actually make the noise. This verbal sigh relaxes your body and the exhale makes your muscles relax. Do this verbal exhale several times, and soon, you’ll be exhaling down there.

4. Do not worry about wetting the bed. That’s why the mattresses are covered in plastic. That’s why there are nurses. If you are worried about wetting the bed, it will stop you from being able to pee.

All these hospital lessons teach you gratitude – for all the things you take for granted.

How to recovery from surgery.

2009-02-25T08:38:00.002-06:00

When I had knee surgery I thought: you have the surgery, you spend a few weeks in bed, then you go about your life.

Wrong.

Recovery is a long process which has different stages, speeds and time intervals. Your body heals faster than you think it will, but it recovers much slower than you ever imagined.

Thank your body for its capacity to heal and then, respect your body’s need for recovery. Here’s the process.

1. Just out of surgery, gratitude is the mode. Your job is to rest in bed and be relieved that your surgery is Just. Plain. Over. Your body has suffered an invasion and needs to recompose itself, detoxing from the anesthesia. Healing sleep is all you need.

2. Feeling enormously better with each day. Drinking, eating, peeing and pooping. These last two become very important after surgery. They indicate that all systems are working again.

3. You will have little triumphs. You will be able to life your head or roll over or sit up. The first time you sit up, stand up, walk, you will be dizzy. The first time you will be able to walk again. The first time you can use a toilet and take a shower will seem to your like a major miracle.

4. Time to go home. You felt fine in the hospital bed – and now, just getting into the wheelchair, into the car, into your house – and on your bed is exhausting. Everything seems impossible. Hours ago you were chafing to get out of the hospital, and now you’re overwhelmed by the responsibilities of taking care of yourself. Time to ask your friends to rally around. Whenever someone asks you if they can do something for you or cook a meal, say yes.

5. Your wound heals, but then begins recovery of the muscles and joints. Ask the doctor how long the process takes. I kept thinking something was wrong with me, when actually, I was just going through the painful weeks of recovery and getting my muscle tone back. It might actually take 6 months to a year before you are fully recovered. No one ever tells you this when you decide on surgery.

6. It seems like an eternity when you’re trying to recover from surgery. But when you look back, it will seem to have gone quickly. Don’t be impatient. Expect setbacks, sore muscles, visits to the doctors, changes in meds.

7. Then, one day…you will feel recovered and “normal.” Give thanks.

How to go into surgery.

2009-02-12T10:25:00.000-06:00

Here are some tips that I'll share from my recent knee surgery.

Surgery IS a big deal. Mentally and physically. Take it seriously.

Information is power. You need to go into your surgery with a positive attitude. Ask lots of questions. Afterall, YOU are the consumer of this experience. Ask your doctor what would happen if you didn't have surgery. Ask the doctor the risks of your surgery. Ask your doctor how many times she has performed this surgery. Get a second opinion if you are feeling nervous about her ability or about the need for surgery.

Once you make the decision to proceed, believe in your surgery. Attitude is everything.

Plan ahead and "take care of business." Do as much as you can before the big day. Pay your bills, cut your grass, go to the grocery and fill your cupboard with what you might eat afterwards. I Christmas shopped, wrapped and decorated the house before I went in to surgery. Then, I recovered in a happy home, ready for the holidays.

Set up a support system for before and after the surgery. Who will take you to the hospital? Who will see you in the recovery room? You need an advocate at that moment, because you'll be hazy from anesthesia. Who will check in on you daily? Talk to the nurses and doctor if you need help? And finally, who will take you home from the hospital?

Prepare your body. Surgery and anesthesia are very hard on the body. One week before your surgery: stop drinking alcohol. Give your kidneys a rest. Take your vitamins. Stay healthy. Two days before surgery stop eating meat. Start eating lightly. One day before surgery, consider a juice and soup fast. You don't want your intestines filled with matter... While you are under an anesthetic, your intestines stop working. You don't want to be post surgery, sore, tender, immobile, and worry about pooping. You will have plenty of other things to worry about. Drink lots of liquids. You want to be very hydrated before surgery.

Your hospital survival kit. Hospitals charge you for absolutely everything, so take needed items and some comfort items. Washcloth, (not only for washing, but for having friends soothe you and refresh you) toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, lip balm, body lotion, sleeping mask, pashmina, light blanket, several changes of underwear, big baggy T shirt, slippers, book, knitting, cell phone, cuddly soft socks, Ipod.

Sleeping in a hospital is very difficult and the sleeping mask will save you. In a hospital the nurses come in all night long, turning on the light, to check your temp, give you meds, and interrupt you every time you manage to fall into a light sleep. The eye mask excuses you from having to make contact, be polite or even opening your eyes. You want the light blanket, because your hospital blanket will probably be heavy, and if you have had surgery, you want warmth, but not heaviness weighing on your sore body. The cuddly soft socks help, because you can keep your feet warm and then just lie under a sheet. The pashmina, is for keeping your upper body warm. Between socks, light blanket and pashmina, you are able to deal with all your temperature zones -- and this is crucial in your comfort.

I also brought two different shaped tempurpedic pillows. Getting comfortable in a hospital bed, especially when you've been lying in bed for days, is hard. You put them under your neck, your arms, your knees, your sides -- anything to do to get comfortable. If you are comfortable, you heal faster.

You check in. You go to your room. Be calm, listen to your music, and all will be well.

Mothering Myself

2008-12-15T10:12:00.002-06:00

...And letting myself be Mothered by my friends.

That's what women friends do. We Mother each other.

Like right now. I'm home from knee surgery, immobilized in bed. This queen bee is not used to not doing ten things at a time, especially during the hectic and fun holiday season. But this year, it has to be different.

Judy took me to the hospital and has Mothered me ever since. Visiting me, getting me out of the hospital (no easy feat!), buying my meds, injecting me with antibiotic (she gives THE best shot), and listening to all my cares and woes. She picks up my mail and well, it is endless what she does for me.

Yesterday Marieke grocery shopped for me and then entered my kitchen to cook a masterful asparagus and fresh pea risotto, a fresh salad, sliced strawberries. Gourmet comfort food made by a loving friend. As she was cleaning up, Susan showed up with a bath chair and helped me bathe and dressed my scar.

The last time I lay in bed and had someone cook for me when I was a child. The last time I had someone help me bathe was when I was a child.

This is what women do for each other. We Mother each other.

It is hard for me to be Mothered. I am so used to doing all the Mothering. But I am sitting back and letting them help me, because the day will come when I will do the same for them.

My women friends are Angels. And beautiful Mothers.

P.S. So if you don't hear from me for awhile...I'm recovering from surgery and...being Mothered.)

My son, out in the world.

2008-11-28T10:11:00.002-06:00

My son is celebrating his first Thanksgiving away from home, in another country. He has taken his place in the world. He made his own travel arrangements. He chose his wardrobe and packed his suitcase. It was up to him to make sure he remembered toothbrush, credit card and hostess gift. "He arrived," teletexted my cousin, “and looks great and is nice and smart and sweet.”

That’s what a Mother wants to hear.

She also wants to hear that he shooed the hostess away from washing dishes and took over the chore himself. (Hmmm..he never shooed me away from the dishes! Maybe I have this to look forward to.)

This is what all those early years were about. All the work you do with your children, about making beds and picking up their clothes and table manners and hostess gifts… All the teaching, cajoling and punishing, which makes you tired of the sound of your own voice…really does kick in at a certain age.

This is the person you were dreaming of. A warm, considerate, compassionate, grateful, joyful person., taking his place, out in the world., creating a satisfying, lovely, inspiring life for himself and others.

Will you regret it later on?

2008-11-18T15:15:00.006-06:00

One August during a curiously stressful visit by my Mother, it was time to decide whether I’d take the children to her house for Christmas—a 12 hour trip in two airplanes. Experience had taught me that reservations had to be made then, or it would be all sold out.

I wasn’t ready to make this decision just yet because I was feeling bruised by her negative manner.

Dr. Janny to the rescue. She's my best friend since junior high school who, today, is a wonderful psychiatrist.

“What I always ask my patients is," she said, “If you don’t go, is this something you might regret in the future?”

“If it is something you would regret in the future, then don’t even think twice about it and do it. But if it is something you won’t regret, then you’re off the hook.”

I immediately made the reservations.

It turned out to be my Mother’s last Christmas.

Now that she is gone, it is clear to me that her stressful visit in August was because she was not feeling well; in fact, she was dying. But we didn’t know it yet. She never said, “I don’t feel well,” she just acted grouchy and difficult. She acted the same way on her visit to my brother, puzzling him at the time as well.

Now we look back and understand everything – and have no regrets. We take comfort and rejoice in the memories.

All gemutlich, all the time.

2008-11-03T09:20:00.004-06:00

As I get older, life seems to get "scarier." My mortality is ever present in a new way. I have experienced pain, loss and tragedy in the death of family and friends.

My "new" philosophy of life is very simple. It is my old philosophy of life, only now, I am living it with more vigor and insistence.

"All gemutlich, all the time."

Gemutlich means cozy, endearing, in German.

It's a rough world out there.

All gemutlich, all the time.

My Mother's Diamond Ring

2008-11-02T06:48:00.002-06:00

One of the iconic visions I have of my Mother is the diamond ring on her hand. I saw it every day. It was the hand I held. It was the hand that fed me and caressed me. It truly represented her “until death do us part” marriage with my Father

One day, when my Father was failing, my Mother decided I should have her diamond ring. We had just come from the lawyer where she had rewritten her will.

She was feeling vulnerable, old and forgetful. “I don’t want to be one of these ladies who get taken to the hospital in an ambulance and her diamond ring is stolen off of her,” she said. And so, we went to get it reset together. I wanted her to enjoy choosing a setting with me for her beautiful stone. “Never let your diamond out of your sight,” she said, as we stood there, watching the jeweler set it into platinum.

After they were married, she always told it, one day my Father came home with a packet of loose diamonds. Those were the days when life was simpler. My Father’s accountant’s husband was a jeweler on 47th St. in Manhattan. My Mother looked at all the loose diamonds. “I chose the biggest one, of course.” It happened to be just a little over one carat and a very very good quality.

I was surprised, delighted and saddened when my Mother gave me her diamond. It signaled some sort of defeat, or acceptance in her heart, of something that was over. I thought it was tremendously generous of her to give it to me while she was still alive. She wanted to see the transition of the ring and not imagine it as something that would happen after her passing. She also wanted the security of really knowing where it went.

And now, my Mother has passed away, her diamond accompanies me every day. It is a powerful touchstone. Her diamond makes me strong and reminds me who I am, from where I came, and of how loved I was and still am.

I am happily divorced, but I still wear my Mother’s diamond on my left hand. I am too “old” now, to care that some man might think me engaged and be warned away. When has a ring ever stopped the right man?

My diamond gives me hope and strength. It is my Mother’s love on my finger.

Mothering your Mother

2008-10-30T17:31:00.003-06:00

This is about the first time you realize that your Mother can’t Mother you any longer. She will never say that of course. The words go unspoken, but the reality is there.

It is the inevitable moment in the parent-child relationship when frailty enters and the natural order is reversed. If you are lucky, you are much older when this happens. But no matter when, it is a big sadness and nothing is ever quite the same.

The kindest thing to do…is just to carry on. But the problem comes in recognizing the moment.

It happened for me when I came home for Christmas one year with my young children. I arrived, exhausted, with the kids, after 12 hours of flying and stress. As I had in previous years, I wanted to walk into a welcoming winter wonderland, with fire blazing, dinner on the table, house decorated and wine at the ready.

Absolutely nothing was done. There was no dinner waiting, not even Chinese take out. There was no milk or juice in the fridge. No wine, boxes of cereal or bagels for breakfast. The house was not decorated. Not even a Christmas tree bought.

Instead of realizing what had really happened on a significant level, I was just furious with my Mother. I was frustrated and annoyed because I thought my Mother was just being lazy and inconsiderate.

I knew she was old…but couldn’t she have made one trip to the supermarket? Couldn’t she have brought a tree home and put it in a bucket out by the garage? Couldn’t she have made one bed a day?

It was a grim moment. I called the Chinese restaurant for a delivery. I got in the car and dashed to the grocery to pick up breakfast supplies. I made the beds and we fell into them. The next day I decorated, shopped, cooked and cleaned. And it was that way for ever more.

If you have been Mothered well, you rise to the challenge naturally and easily. It was up to me to make Christmas magic for my Mother. This is the sandwich role for a woman that comes at a certain age. You Mother your children and you Mother your Mother. And the whole time you are amazed at the energy you have to pull it off.

It is actually a gift for you, although you don’t recognize it at the time. You are paving the way for the great sadness that is yet to come.

Personal touchstones of taste. On Tania, our own little nutritionist.

2008-10-29T15:36:00.005-06:00

I’m drinking hot water with a splash of milk and thinking of my grandmother, who used to drink this every evening, after dinner. When I would offer coffee and tea, she would insist on just boiled water with a splash of milk. I’d think, how silly, how could that possibly taste good?

I now understand that she drank this because there was no decaffeinated tea back then. It was something hot, digestive and comforting after the evening meal. Even though I have decaf teabags in the house, I’m still sipping boiled water with a splash of milk. I feel a connection to her when I sip this drink.

And it is only now I realize that my grandmother Tatiana was our little nutritionist. Only back then, we thought she was quaint. She was ahead of her time, before people had chic nutritionists or the food pages of the New York Times to dictate the latest health trends.

Now that I’m battling my weight in middle age, I have a new appreciation of her discipline and her nutritional habits. She always ate lightly at night and kept her gorgeous figure her entire life.
I used to giggle that she would eat prunes for breakfast, followed by toast spread with cottage cheese and a drizzle of honey. But now, because I’ve read that prunes are one of nature’s perfect foods, high in antioxidants, iron and fiber, I make sure to eat a few each day too. One of my favorite breakfasts is cottage cheese on toast, drizzled with honey.

My father was an aficionado of oatmeal. My Mother loved the classic grilled cheese sandwich. Nette’s Merema taught me about the cool hot bite of crystallized ginger on the tongue and gingersnaps with tea. Now, I eat oatmeal, grilled cheese sandwiches and ginger whenever I can find it.

This is about the comfort of family tastes. You never know what your personal touchstones will be until later in life. And it is a grace and gift when one day they reappear. Tastes are a palpable way of feeling close to these departed people who at one time, loved you with all their heart, and whose love warms you still.

How to talk on the telephone

2008-10-28T12:18:00.003-06:00

I’m kidding, right? You have to learn how to talk on the telephone?
Well, yes apparently. We talk on the phone all the time, but I’ve noticed people just flow all over the place.

There is a telephone etiquette: Don’t be rude, don’t be abrupt or too fast, don’t give away too much information, don’t ramble.

Answering the phone. In office life, and in countries like Germany and Switzerland, you answer the phone announcing your name, so the caller can immediately identify whether s/he reached the right number. As in, "Dunkel" or "Dunkel residence."

In much of the rest of the world, the phone is answered, Pronto, Bueno, Allo, Hello – which basically indicates: we have a connection, proceed.

Identify yourself. Don’t just start talking, assuming the other person recognizes your voice. You’re not that special. And often, a hello doesn’t register.

If it is a business call you would say, “Hello, this is Elizabeth Dunkel. I’m calling to speak to… about …..”

If it is a personal call, identify yourself as well. I don’t care how well you think the other person knows your voice. There's nothing more annoying than answering the phone and someone says, "Hi," and I'm left wondering, okay, who is this? So I finally say, “Who is this?” and the other person is offended because I don’t recognize them.

Be polite. Don’t just say, “Is Joe there?” Too abrupt. Get out of my way buster.
Chat for a minute. “Hi, this is Elizabeth. How are you?” Chat a bit and then ask for Joe.

Don’t just say, “wrong number” and hang up. The phone will ring five seconds later with the same wrong call and you’ll be bothered again. Ask the person, “What number are you trying to reach?” And when they tell you, you reply, “No, you have reached xxx-xxxx,” and they will understand what they marked incorrectly, or that they simply don’t have the proper number.

Don’t ever start a phone call with, “Who is this?” That is rude and abrupt.
Imagine. Your phone rings. You answer it, only to hear, “Who is this?”
When someone does that to me, I turn the question around. They need to identify themselves first, they’re the ones who called me. So, I say, “The question is, to whom would you like to speak?”

People have lives. Feel free to ask, “Is this a good time to call?” And if not, “When is a good time for me to call?” Feel free to say, “I’d really like to talk to you but this is not a good time for me to talk, can I return your call?

Be concise. Don’t ramble. Say, “I’m on my cell, I’m lost, can you look up a phone number for me?”

Always end your phone call with the words, “Thank you so much for your call.” Or, “Nice talking to you.”

See, that wasn't so painful, was it?

Mother as "Personal Assistant"

2008-10-25T11:05:00.003-05:00

Lately, I’m not feeling like a Mother anymore…but mostly, my daughter’s personal assistant.

Nina is 16 and a half and a junior in high school. Remember how grown up you felt when you were that age? Well, I’m respecting that.

I wake her up in the morning for school. I make her a cup of tea. I drive her to school. I ask her, “What would you like for lunch today?” The reason I ask, is because it is just the two of us, and if I make what I want, and she doesn’t want it, she just won’t eat it. So since I’m easy, it’s easier for me to prepare something she will eat.

I see that her clothes are washed and ironed. I drive her to her sports, academic events and social life. I give her cash when she needs it. Not exhorbitant amounts, but enough for the occasional burger or movie.

This all feels more like personal assisting, not mothering. But I guess that’s a play on words. Because it really is Mothering. With a grown up and very modern twist.

I cringe now...

2008-10-22T14:59:00.001-05:00

…when I think of how my children overhead me, occasionally, complaining about my Mother.

There were times I would get off the phone with her, exasperated about something she had said. Or hadn’t said. I would be annoyed if she didn’t offer to pay my air tickets home. I was annoyed when she didn’t give me a gift, or even a card or a flower, on my 50th birthday. I was annoyed she wouldn’t move down to where I lived so I could care for her.

These episodes were just the sturm and drang of daily living on this earth. But my complaints didn’t touch the deep love I felt for my Mother. I worried so much about her. I hated living so far away. I hated not being able to accompany her in the care of my Father, to give her the love and support she needed and deserved, and the companionship that only mothers and daughters can share.

My Mother was lonely as she cared for my Father, and even lonelier when she survived him and lived alone for the first time in over 60 years. And on top of that, she was plagued with cancer, only we didn’t know it yet.

So what am I saying to you Mothers who still have Mothers of your own?

That my kids did hear my complaints. That words can hide what is truly deep in our hearts.

I do believe they understood my great love and reverence for my Mother. It’s the deep love that’s in every child's gut, a part of your very soul and breath.

That’s what Mother love is, it's just a part of you.

Maligning the Mother

2008-10-21T16:53:00.001-05:00

Mothers are the grist for the lifetime mill. Everything begins with Mother. Mother is the source of your life, then the source of your joy. Just look at any baby cooing at her Mother, or any toddler’s face lighting up when Mother comes into the room.

For those precious years, we Mothers are on the pedestal, in the great love affair between Mother and child, and then, floof, our child becomes an adult and we are off the pedestal and into the frying pan of life’s impossible people to deal with.

Is our love that suffocating or awful? Why is it that Mothers morph into the monster, and become the source of our formerly adoring, adult child’s ennui?

Why is it that a friend can give you advice and you can “hear” it, but if your Mother gives you the same advice, you discount it, or, it drives you crazy?

Think of the Mother in literature and the Mother in movies. The larger than life “Mommie Dearest.” The eye rolling, the children suffering their Mother, the Mother as the cause of all root problems. “The Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood” was all about the daughter’s inability to live her own authentic life due to a misunderstood conflict in her mother-daughter relationship. In Sean Wilsey’s book, “Oh the Glory of It All” he writes, “When describing my Mother it is impossible to overstate her grandeur, her haughtiness, her generosity, her old Hollywood star power, her immaturity…”

We mothers are quite powerful, it seems. Perhaps it would be better to be… less powerful?

But you are powerful when you are raising your child. And therein lies the problem. You keep your children alive, clean, fed, rested, educated. I’m beginning to think the stamp of that powerful presence you had in their lives always has the power to wound in the most unsuspected ways.

No one wants to be the cause of eye rolling. I certainly don’t want to be the sturm and drang Mother. The demanding Mother. The guilt trip Mother. The needy Mother. The impossible Mother. The loud Mother. The exhausting Mother.

But I’m beginning to think it is part of the Mother “lode.” The power that you once had lingers in the raise of an eyebrow, in a tone of voice. Perhaps, sadly, it helps pave the way for the ultimate separation.

In the meantime, I vow to remain cheerful, light, receptive. That’s what an adult child wants, right? Now that my Mother is gone, I understand, it is certainly how she treated me.

How you heal determines the quality of the rest of your life.

2008-10-17T17:46:00.004-05:00

This is not my advice. This advice was given to me by my dear friend Judy, and it has been engraved in my heart and mind forever. Even I have a hard time following it.

I may have touched on this theme in my entry “How to be Sick. Nicely.” But as I have just checked one of my students out of the hospital after a grave illness, it comes to mind ever more strongly. I told him, “How you heal now, can affect the rest of your life.”

We get sick. Our bodies suffer an assault. And then we want to get back to our lives immediately, as they were. When you are recovering from a serious illness, you need to give your body time to heal. You are bored, you are anxious to get back to your life as you knew it, but don’t. Take that extra week or month. If you ignore the healing process, you can compromise the functioning of your body for the rest of your life.

We ask so much of our bodies. We take them for granted. But if the doctor says, don’t drive for a month, or stay in bed for at least a week, or don’t drink milk or alcohol for a month: follow this advice. Don’t suffer the relapse, because then it will take you even longer to heal and you can suffer chronic problems for the rest of your life as a result.

Your health is the only thing that matters in this life. You hear that so often, it's become a cliche. And you only understand it when illness strikes. But it is true. Oh so true.

My little stranger

2008-10-15T17:39:00.002-05:00

I have a stranger living under my roof. And she is my lovely 16-year-old daughter.

When she was born and handed to me in the hospital, I looked at her and said, "Who are you?" and spent the next 16 years finding out.

When you are the mother of a baby or later, a small child, you feel you know everything about them. You know what they eat, how they slept, what they did from morning to night. You are there to experience their discoveries and their moods. You are in constant conversation with them.

Then they become teenagers and you have no idea who they are.

They become contemplative. Secretive. They share confidences with their friends, not with you. They disappear for hours on end and don’t tell you a thing. My daughter comes home from her evening French class at the Alliance Francaise and shuts herself in her room to talk to her new boyfriend. She shares her feelings with him.

And so begins another new aspect of parenting. But no one ever told you about this one.

The success of a parent – adult child relationship rests on being able to treat your son or daughter with the exquisite politesse of a new friend about whom you find everything fascinating.

You cannot assume anything or trample on the currency of your former intimacy. You must respect their lives, their boundaries, their new likes and dislikes. As their parent, your new role is to simply support them with unconditional love.

That’s what keeps them coming home, happy to see you, happy to be with you.

A slice of heaven

2008-10-14T09:27:00.004-05:00

In keeping with living a life of gratitude, and the fact that "life is in the details," I thought I'd start a new category called, "A Little Slice of Heaven."

Raising kids is not only exhausting -- it is often mind numbing. The repetition of driving, cooking, cleaning, shopping, bathing, cleaning, shopping, cooking, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning...can put the soul to sleep. Of course, the honor of raising children has its enormous pleasures and rewards, which is why we do this in the first place.

However, there are little slices of heaven, which sometimes get overlooked in the daily routine.

Our children have no idea of the sheer pleasure of parenting that we experience. They think nothing of it. But we know better. So, occasionally, I'm going to "shout out" moments that I consider a little slice of heaven.

Today's: Sitting in a darkened movie theatre with my 16 year old daughter, watching a French film, en francais bien sur!

Am I an adult yet?

2008-10-08T10:02:00.004-05:00

I remember asking myself that question after I graduated college. I got my first job and lived in my own apartment. By all accounts, I had assumed the life of a responsible adult. But I didn’t feel like an adult. I asked my friends, "Are we adults yet?" and "Is this what being an adult feels like?"

I am here to report, that the moment when I truly felt like an adult – was not when I turned 21, 30 or 35, 40 or 50, not when I got married, bought a house, not even when I had children. In the eyes of the world I was an adult, but those things felt rather more like life pulling me along the passages of... life.

I finally felt like an adult when I got a divorce.

That was two years ago. Now, at 57, I can honestly say, yes, I feel like an adult. It was the divorce. Making a serious decision invoking the law, taking responsibility for my life and my past. Something about paying lawyers and going before a judge to get my freedom back.

My divorce was a defining moment in my life in more ways than one. It was not only regaining my freedom, but it was the most adult and scary thing I had ever done.

What about you? When did you feel like an adult?

Book Proposal & Return to Elegance

2008-10-07T11:34:00.003-05:00

I'm working on a book proposal for The Portable Mother, which is why I'm not posting as often.

Also, my original material for The Portable Mother is packed away in a box and I must find it! As many of you know, I'm currently living in a rental because I'm building a house. Half my life is in boxes, pending the second move into the new house. The Portable Mother is in a box! I'm definitely portable, and definitely not perfect.

Time to take a breath and begin again.

A Return to Elegance is the new theme for my life. Living smaller, living better, living with more clarity, more substance, more time. Let's face it, family life is...messy! It's fun messy. Its about laundry and cooking and tending the sick, and driving and making costumes, and all the hubbub.

Life is simpler at my house these days, with Pablo gone to college. Nina is in high school, a young lady very much involved in her own life. My daily mothering has simmered down substantially.
This past week, I was reminded of my pre marriage, pre child life. It was indeed a life of elegance.

Thoughtful elegance. The elegance of economy. Sensual elegance. Intellectual elegance. Artistic elegance. Personal elegance. I'm happy to reclaim this mode of being, after a whirlwind 20 years of full speed ahead, joyful, day to day Mothering. I did a great job, but now it's time for elegance.

Why you should drive the carpool.

2008-10-01T10:55:00.002-05:00

Let’s say Friday night has arrived. You're exhausted after a week of driving to and from school, to piano, to soccer, to the study group, the play rehearsal, plus your own errands.

You're looking forward to a quiet night at home when your child asks, “Can you drive me and some friends to the movies?” And if you are like me, you try, “Can’t you stay home tonight?” or “Can you get another mother to do it?”

Mothers, I urge you: drive that carpool.

In carpool is when you see who your kids’ friends are and where they live. You get to see your child in a social situation, who she is among her friends and how she acts among them. You get to see your child in a way you never can at home.

When I first started driving carpools I thought I had to be a cool mom and chat with the kids. I thought my job was to put them at ease.

Wrong. A simple hello is enough. You don’t like it when your taxi driver talks your head off or peppers you with questions about your life.

Just be quiet and drive. And the best part: listen. A carpool Mom has the pleasure of listening to their conversation, their jokes, their gossip, their concerns.

Hey, you’re not spying; you’re just the driver.

The best time to talk to your kids

2008-09-30T11:34:00.003-05:00

Here’s a little tip for you Mothers with young children who are reading The Portable Mother.

Friends ask me, “Do you call Pablo at college?”
Well, yes and no.
If I have something I need to communicate to him –airplane ticket info, loan application, important family news, I call him, give him the info, and then we chat a little and hang up. Mission accomplished.

But if I call him because I want to chat or to hear his voice, what I’ll get is a yawn, a disinterest, or he’s busy.

It reminded me of when my kids were little and I would pick them up at school and want to hear about their day. They’d get into the car and I’d say brightly, “So how was school?”

“Fine.”

“What’d you do today?”

“Not much.”

Here I wanted to hear about their day, and they were not interested. After a few tries I realized: They’ve been in school all day. They are tired. They are up to here with school. The last thing they want to talk about is school.

Later on in the day, when I’d be driving them to a piano lesson or taking them to buy some school supplies…they’d start talking and everything came out. Because they were ready to talk.

The best time to talk to your kids? When they want to talk. Not when you want to talk.

So, make them want to talk by leaving them alone a little. I’ve learned to wait for a good chat. When Pablo wants to talk, he’ll call me. It’s then that he’s loving, amenable, talkative, and sharing.

When I go online and see that Pablo is online I stifle the natural urge to immediately message “Hi!” I don’t want him to feel stalked by his mother.

Rather, I wait. He sees I’m online. If he wants, he’ll message me.

And more often than not, he does. “Hi!” pops up on my screen. And I’m the happiest Mother ever.

Good things about the empty nest.

2008-09-26T10:41:00.003-05:00

For the last few weeks I’ve been writing about empty nest. I think that’s enough for now.

Before I go back to the original purpose of The Portable Mother, which is to write things I want my children to know about life…I thought I’d dedicate a day to celebrating the good things about the empty nest.

It makes me think of an English nanny I had one summer when Nina was born and Pablo was two. (She’s now a mother of three with a busy life.) She taught me to say, whenever something wasn’t going according to plan “…and the good thing is…” and to insist on finding something good in the situation, no matter how small it might be.

You can’t be the mother of small children your whole life. Fun and wonderful as it is, we all get our chance, and then we must continue on. Our kids our counting on it! So, here are just a few of the things I’m rediscovering.

Gas in the car
Not having to negotiate using my car with my Pablo's social life
Juice in the fridge
Always a chocolate or a cookie when I want one
Less house cleaning
Less laundry
Lower grocery bill
Not having to cook if I don’t want to
Phone rings a lot less
No dirty dishes in the sink
No sofa pillows to puff up
Sleeping late
Taking naps
Not living on a school schedule (having to be back by a certain time to chauffeur or cook)
Hours of reading a delicious book
Learning German
Joining a gym
Writing a new novel
Reinventing myself and remembering who I was and what life was like when I was single.
Being grateful that I had the sacred opportunity to nurture two human beings.
Being grateful that I will be there for them as long as I live.

It's so over.

2008-09-23T13:01:00.002-05:00

A month into Pablo’s freshman college life, I’m finally realizing it.
It is so over.
Mothering, as I knew it, is over.
I had my chance. 18 years of: go to bed, cut your hair, make your bed, take a shower, why don’t you…etc. 18 years of cajoling about piano, or sports, or friends, or homework.

Pablo doesn’t write, he doesn’t call. He’s so thrilled with his new found freedom to become an adult, his freedom to understand who he is in the world, without me telling him: go to bed, cut your hair, don’t play your music so loud.

When he comes home, he will be this adult “friend” –someone who I love endlessly, with a strange connection to me. I was once his Mother; I was once the person who had to teach him, tell him, and shower him with love. Now, I am his Mother – someone who will always take him in, who will always go visit him somewhere, who will always be his biggest champion.

But I can never tell him again what to do. I can make suggestions. But only when I am asked.

He doesn’t call, he doesn’t write. Doesn’t he love me? Doesn’t he miss me? But then, I remember, as a college freshman I wasn’t homesick. I didn’t miss my Mother particularly. I loved knowing she was “there” – but that was about it. I knew I was loved and supported. That's what you know for the rest of your life, that you are loved and supported by your Mother.

One of the rewards of launching your “child” in the world, is seeing what lessons you taught them, that they are now putting into practice as they discover who they are on their own.

What I see in Pablo is this: His joy with the world is my joy. I planted it. His hunger for reading is my hunger for reading. His desire for new experiences – horseback riding, piano, aikido, medieval sword fighting, party planning – is my desire for new experiences. He is generous and kind. He is compassionate and thoughtful. All the things I hoped and wanted he would be. He is all of this and more.

I spent my precious 18 years teaching my Pablo everything I know about life. Now it is my turn to watch and let him teach me who he is and how he will live his life.

The Empty Nest

2008-09-09T10:37:00.003-05:00

Think about it: you spend more of your life with an empty nest than you do as a 24/7 mothering mother.

The first 18 years are the most important in a certain, definitive way. But all the next years of your “child’s” life…are his life!

You are always the Mother. But are you the Mother who is, “ Sigh…I have to go see my Mother…” or the Mother who is, “I can’t wait to get home and visit my Mother!”

It’s your choice. And it requires a big shift in behavior.

There are lots of books about having babies, raising babies, how to be a mother.
But not so many about how to be an empty nest Mother.

As Pablo completes his first month in college, I find myself thinking about my Mother a lot. Once I left home to go to college and beyond, I didn’t realize that she had a life because I was so busy with my own. I was off traveling, discovering, working, and she was, in my mind, always at home.

It is now, as I look at the watercolors she left behind and register the dates on them, I realize she was painting. She had friends and took trips with my father and had a whole life I didn’t know about.

To me, she was there when I called on the phone, and there at the airport or bus station, or at the front door if I pulled up in a car or a taxi. Always waiting, welcoming, ready to cook, drive, shop, and hear the stories of my life.

I’m in a transition period. You don’t just take your kid to college and you’re off! There is reflection, a bit of mourning for a certain way of life, that day to day, living in the same house intimacy. I won’t be needed as a Mother in those ways ever again.

But I will be needed as a Mother in new ways. And this is what I’m musing about, as I discover who is the new version of myself and what is the life I want to lead now.

"...And how do you feel about that?"

2008-09-08T09:35:00.006-05:00

When I took Pablo to college, the sensitive deans planned a wonderful day for the freshman parents. They knew we had driven and flown very far, and to just drop off your kid and disappear was not what we needed at this delicate time.

What we needed, they felt, was to be read the riot act, but in gentle--and humorous--terms.

So while Pablo was settling in and running errands on campus, the deans eased us into being college parents.

The major lesson was how to talk to your now adult child i.e. college student.

Your student calls you, either to share events and stories about his life or to complain about something. And no longer are you to offer your unsolicited opinion or advice.

Instead, you are to say, “And how do you feel about that?”

And then you listen.

Then you say, “And what are you going to do about that?”

And then you listen.

Only if you are asked for your advice or opinion, you give it. If not, you don’t.

Think about it. You didn’t want to hear your Mother’s opinion about what you ate for lunch, or what sport you decided to take up, or where you decided to go for vacation. Think about your friendships. Your best friends don’t offer their opinion on every little thing you do. If they did…you probably wouldn’t have them as friends.

I know, it’s hard. We’ve been telling our children what we think for so many years now that it just comes naturally. Kids don’t want a parent constantly saying what she feels about some aspect of their lives or behavior. It makes them feel they are under scrutiny, where everything they do or don’t do will be judged.

Carolyn Heilbrun, author of “The Last Gift of Time: Life Beyond 60” wrote that one of the ways of being a wanted adult in the lives of her children was to stop talking and start listening. What your adult children tell you will be far more interesting than anything you could ever say to them. It is their world and their struggle, now. What they need most, is someone who will listen.

I'm not saying I have all this down yet. It takes practice to stop jumping in and trying to fix things. But I do think, if you treat your adult children as respectfully and lovingly as you do a friend, and you have a greater chance of having a loving, rich relationship for life.

The 18-year-long pajama party is over...

2008-09-02T09:48:00.004-05:00

Nature knows best. Nature helped me through the big goodbye.

The summer was excruciatingly hot. Pablo, Nina and I packed up and moved to our new house. They couldn't believe how stressful and awful moving was. "Welcome to my world," I said to them.

Recent high school graduate Pablo was impossible, as only a Mother can describe. He stayed out until the wee hours and then came home and slept till mid afternoon. He didn’t get a job because in Mexico you need to be 18 to get a job, and when you do get a summer job…you might earn about 400 U.S. dollars after eight weeks of serious toiling… He didn’t see the point. I kept telling him about developing a work ethic until I got tired of hearing my own voice.

You see, he knew best. He knew better. He wouldn’t listen. He didn’t care. He drove me crazy.

I was so sick of him by the end of the summer that I dropped him off at college with the attitude, “Here, take him.”

That's nature for you. Nature engineered it perfectly. 18 years is our allotted human time. Birds get pushed out of the nest much younger, like a few weeks. Mama birds too get tired of the fuss and push the birds out of the nest.

The night before I drove him to college, we stayed in a hotel. At 3 a.m., I realized he wasn’t in the room. I got dressed and went down to the deserted lobby. There he was, chatting on Internet. I burst into tears and started yelling at him. “Do you realize what time it is? We have to get up at 6 a.m.! You have a long day tomorrow! Go to bed!” I went back upstairs humiliated at the absurdity of this. Me, yelling at my 18-year-old son, who I was going to take leave of tomorrow. Reminded me of couples who have a big fight before one of them leaves on a business trip.

Leaving him at college was fine. I knew he was in a luminous place, surrounded by great natural beauty and inspiring professors.

He was not at all sad to see me go, or at least, he didn’t show it. He was too overwhelmed with the beauty and challenge of his new life. And the scent of freedom.

Of course I cried when I left him. He couldn’t understand my sadness.

I was crying for me. My years of Mothering were officially over. My job, as 24/7 “Mother” was phased out, terminated. I was shown the door and handed my pink slip. I had my chance with him, a full 18 years…and now it was over. I cried for this.

And I mourned for this: When your kids are young, you are the star of their lives. And now, I have a supporting role, a bit part. The college administrators told us parents that our children would finally begin to see us now as people, and not just as their Mothers. That's a good thing.

That day I delivered him to college, I saw him become an adult right before my eyes. He trotted around a campus he had never seen before, getting his photo, picking up an ID, going to the cashier, the registrar, getting keys, meeting a roommate, navigating everything new. He took charge of his clothes and put everything away. He made plans to open a bank account and had a slew of meetings to get to. Everything he didn’t do at home all summer, he just slid into perfectly.

This is what you wish for when you are a Mother -- that you raise your child to be able to thrive in a new world.

Back home, I am discovering new joys in my life as the Mother of an adult. I feel lighter now. There is no more, “Go to bed, it’s late.” Or, “pick up your room.” “You asked me for $$ yesterday.” No more hearing the boring, antagonized drone of my own voice.

I no longer have to cook huge meals, buy gallons of juice, watch cartons of cookies disappear before my eyes. I can diet. I can sip tea. I have my life back.

It was a glorious 18 year long pajama party.

And now, that party’s over. A new relationship between Pablo and me begins.

Nature knows best.

"Catch as catch can, here we are, back at the stand."

2008-09-01T09:03:00.000-05:00

So wrote J.D. Salinger.

I'm back. Reporting after a fast and furious summer.

Fast facts: Pablo is in college. He is tremendously happy.

The Mother, (me) is also doing well.

I learned so much! And I will tell you all about it.

Summer Break

2008-07-17T08:27:00.002-05:00

Hello Everyone,
Just to let you know that I'm in the midst of packing and moving to a new house.
I'll be back with wonderful writing and fresh insights as soon as I am internet abled again.
Have a lovely summer!
xxxooo

Learning to talk less

2008-07-09T06:42:00.005-05:00

Sigh.

For a parent who has talked to her children all their lives…I now have to stop. It has finally dawned on me: I’m talking too much.

When your kids are little, you are their everything. Remember how your baby smiled and gurgled when you entered the room? You were the source of all their delight.

You talk all the time to young children: You teach, you entertain, you counsel. And now, it is very clear that when I tell my teenagers what I think about something, they don’t want to hear it.

It is a stage in parenting I never considered. No one does. You expect to be the hero of your children’s lives forever. If you don't watch out, you become a bother. It is painful to see my kids’ faces cringe when I talk too much.

“Mother, be quiet,” Nina says. Pablo just tunes out.
Sigh.

I’ve been told your kids come back to you after they break away.

But right now, I need to follow my own advice: (I’m the bank and a vacation destination and a source of pure love and support.)

My job description has changed. Now I need to be their rock. Still. Solid. Silent.

"Enormous Changes at the Last Minute."

2008-07-08T13:33:00.002-05:00

It’s the famous title of Grace Paley’s collection of short stories, published in 1974. These six simple words arranged so artfully strike a deep understanding in my heart and have accompanied me for years. You live, and nothing seems to change even though it is changing all the time and suddenly: enormous changes at the last minute.

Pablo graduated high school on Friday evening. He still seemed unripe and unready for college. But the day after he graduated: enormous changes at the last minute. He now seems ripe and ready, as if he matured overnight.

I haven’t written for a few days, because: enormous changes at the last minute. I signed a contract with a builder to begin construction on my “empty nest house.” Then, my house sold. It was as if the universe said, well, she’s moving ahead with her plans, so we will take care of business. Which means I have to rent a house for nine months. Which means, two moves in nine months. Are you exhausted yet? My life right now is filled with lawyers, paperwork of house closing, house rental, house building, garage sales, packing and moving. My mind is too frittered to write lyrically.

Which brings me to a quote about life from my friend, Barbara Dunkel. “You can have it all, but you can’t have it all at the same time.” So right now, I’m busy with houses. And when my housing crisis is done…I will get back to writing. And reading and cooking. But right now, sleepless nights, a bit too much stress, and houses.

Which brings me to Mao Tse-Tung. Now I’m not a big fan of Mao and of what he did to China, but for better or worse, he left his mark on world history. Mao was a sailor and liked to use sailing metaphors when speaking about life. He viewed himself as “The Great Helmsman,” steering China into his vision of the future. He explained to the Chinese people that: sometimes, the way to get to where you want to go is by taking a detour.

The first thing you learn in sailing is, that most of the time, you can’t get to where you want to go in a straight line, because of the ways the fickle wind is blowing in relation to your sails. So you learn to tack. Tacking is when you work with the wind to move forward in a zig zag manner. Sometimes you zig, sometimes you zag, but eventually you’ll get there. Well, life is like that. Sometimes, you can’t just get to the place you want to go directly. You need to do some tacking, some detouring. But you’ll eventually get there if your sights are set strongly and you work with whatever way the wind blows.

Which brings me to another truth that rings deep in my heart. This one from Emily Dickinson. It is how I’m feeling now, about all the enormous changes at the last minute. “To live is so startling, it leaves little time for anything else.”

Thought of the Day

2008-07-07T21:56:00.005-05:00

"I will never fully know my mother, any more than I will ever know my father...or myself. I have been missing the point. The point is not knowing another person, or learning to love another person. The point is simply this: how tender can we bear to be? What good manners can we show as we welcome ourselves and others into our hearts?"

-- Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood by Rebecca Wells

Back tomorrow with regular posting. Pablo graduated from high school and I sold my house...so lots going on. But I've been missing you all and want to continue sharing all this good stuff I've got for you!

Helicopter Moms: What have you been doing for the last 18 years?

2008-06-25T11:08:00.009-05:00

In the July 2008 issue of Oprah magazine, there is an article on "helicopter moms" -- those moms who hover over their kids when they go to college and beyond, ready to swoop down and "fix" things.

There is a Mother who drives 4 hours to do her college son's laundry. "He's so busy...I'm glad I can help," she says proudly. There is the Mother who checks her child's college assignments online and calls her if she missed class or didn't hand in a paper. There's the Mother who calls her child's friends to ask them how her child is. And then there's the Mother who calls employers and tells them to hire her child. Yet another bargains the compensation package with human resources.

Mothers: what have you been doing for the last 18 years? If you have done your job right -- they will attack life with gusto. The struggle is theirs. Remember when you started out? You struggled, you learned, you made mistakes and fixed them. You grew up. You became an adult.

If you're saying, oh but its a tougher world out there...It's no tougher than when you had at it. Each generation inherits its own world with their new and improved, adapted survival skills.

J.K. Rowling was the invited speaker at Harvard's 2008 Commencement. The title of her speech was: "The Fringe Benefits of Failure and the Importance of Imagination." Bottom line: her failures were better and bigger teachers than her success.

All the prodding I did to my daughter for not studying was to no avail. It was only when she failed several subjects (School in Mexico is very different from school in the U.S. I won't go into it here.) and had to suffer the consequences, did she begin to take responsibility for her education. Now, she's a serious student.

Helicopter moms are raising a bunch of babies. Hovering is not in the best interest of your child. They have to grow up sometime. Maybe...when you're dead?

I've let go already and my son still has 6 weeks left at home. I'm always here to help, but only if he asks for it.

You can read J.K. Rowling's inspirational speech at http://harvardmagazine.com/go/jkrowling.html

Bittersweet Mothering

2008-06-23T09:26:00.007-05:00

I haven’t been writing because I’ve been busy living. Pablo graduates in five days. He’s in his last exams. He’s out partying with his friends and then sleeping late at home.

These are my last days to tell Pablo things about life. But, he doesn’t want to know what I think or what I know about anything anymore. (Hence this blog! Someday, he’ll be very interested and read it all.)

The blog is turning into something entirely different than I had imagined. It began, first, as an attempt to write down my life advice for Pablo, so he could refer to it as needed. Then I began writing my thoughts and advice about the Mothering of an older child.

I was surprised to learn that Mothers of young children are reading my blog, as if I am a beacon of light in the future night. Their children are young, and they read my words with interested dread and say, “Thank goodness I have years before my kids leave home.” Exhausted as they are from their toddlers and grade school aged children, they know how time flies and want to be reminded to love their kids every minute. For these brave, young Mothers, my words are like watching a horror film through half closed eyes: you know this moment will come, but don’t want to imagine it for yourself, but still you want to see someone else do it, you want to see if the heroine (the mother!) gets out alive! And that your children will still love you when they go.

Yesterday, Pablo paged through my Class of 1969 High School Yearbook with me. He was fascinated to see me as a young girl, his age. He (of course!) couldn’t believe the clothes, the hairstyles, the Nixon-Humphrey posters on the walls of the school. He was impressed with the energy, the activities that we had back then. I told him, “I feel the same as you right now, like I was 18, I really do. The body ages, but the soul stays the same age. Always young.”

Then he let me teach him how to really make his bed. (“It’s all about precision,” I said, “You know, geometry – lines and angles.”) He is finally, really realizing that in a few weeks I will drop him off at college and he’ll be on his own. He listened to me discuss washing machines, water temperature, not to mix whites and colors, and to fish his clothes out of the dryer immediately so they wouldn’t wrinkle. I ended with, "You really should wash your sheets at least every two weeks, because people really don't like people who smell." He nodded.

He’s getting a lot of mail from college these days. He chose to fill out his course pre-registration in the living room where I was reading. He thought out loud with question marks in his voice. No surprises yet –Intro to Psychology, to Philosophy, to Literary Analysis and to Shakespeare. He mused between piano, cello and violin. He will try rock climbing as his sport.

I sat there and smiled. It actually felt great not to have to give him my opinion. I may be paying the outrageous college tuition bills, but now, the decisions are his. I understood that the first 18 years of Motherhood are about the Mother being happy with her child's growth and behavior. Now, all that's important, is that Pablo does what makes him happy.

How I became a different kind of "cool mom"

2008-06-18T08:47:00.003-05:00

In the teenage movie, “Mean Girls” there is a “cool mom” who wants to be her daughter’s best friend. This mom thinks she will get her daughter's approval (!) by dressing like her and being “oh so understanding,” and jiving with her friends when they come over.

I tried that for about five seconds and my kids let me know: uncool mom.

They want mom to be a mom.
To act like a mom.
To dress your age, whatever that means. (It means different things to different women.)
To act your age, whatever that means. (All women have their personal style.)
To be seen and not so heard.
To be welcoming and available, but not join in, or hover.

One thing I was very clear about, when my kids were growing up, was that I wanted my house to be the house their friends wanted to come and hang out in. That way, I could keep a pulse on what was going on and get to know my kids’ friends, if only in a fleeting way. Better than having your kid disappear to someone else’s house for hours on end and really not knowing what is going on or with whom.

So I’d stock the kitchen with goodies, do the “hellos” and disappear.
When the kids left, I’d say my goodbyes.

And that’s when my kids heard their friends say, “Your mom is so cool.”

Teenagers teach you how to let go - Part 2

2008-06-17T11:01:00.005-05:00

The reality is: you don't let go of your kids; they let go of you.

Remember when your toddler always wanted to hold your hand? And then came the day when he didn't want to hold your hand anymore.

They let go of you.

Pablo is graduating from high school next week and leaving for college on August 19. My friend Rosalie said to me, “Enjoy your final days with Pablo!”

What’s there to enjoy?
He’s gone already.
He’s always out with his friends.
He’s at work.
He's with his girlfriend.
He comes in late.
He sleeps late.
I never see him.

He’s teaching me how to be without him.

But yes, I will enjoy him.

The power of the grocery store

2008-06-16T09:57:00.008-05:00

We spend our lives at the grocery store. It seems we’re always saying, in exhausted tones, “I’m dashing to the grocery store,” and “I’ve got to do the grocery shopping.” It becomes a bore and a chore.

But with my “children” aged 16 and 18, on the cusp of leaving home for college, i.e. forever, I have come to understand that “going to the super” for me, means LIFE. It means: I have a family to take care of, people who are relying on me, I am loved and needed. These days, I cherish going to the grocery, because I understand my days as a Mothering Mom are numbered.

I will soon be entering years of shopping just for me, with no particular urgency, because it will not be a tragedy if I dine on a cup of tea and a tomato sandwich. (One of my favorite things to eat.)

After years of the forced march of grocery shopping, I now recognize that some of my happiest moments have been spent in supermarkets, thinking of what dish to delight my children with, or what I can get away with tonight for dinner that's easy. My kids have always loved it whenI pull into the driveway after my grocery shop. They cheerfully dash out to bring in the groceries, appraising what I’ve bought. "She got cookies!" Nina yells. Pablo is thrilled to discover a favorite hunk of cheese and some great cold cuts that they will eat, Tony Soprano style, standing in front of the fridge, slice by slice.

I love to watch people in the grocery store. I see the rhythm of daily life: exhausted Mothers wondering what to cook, power Mothers with their meticulously planned lists. A young woman studys a can of lentil soup. The white haired couple puts a box of Social Tea biscuits in their cart. A father buys potato chips and charcoal, and two young men at the deli, buy fried chicken, ready to eat.

I think of the stages of my grocery life. First there were the years of mountains of formula, baby food and diapers. Then I shopped first with one child and then the second, sitting in the cart’s seat, kissing and talking to them as I put things into the cart, delighting them with a piece of cheese from the deli lady. I recall the years of heavy entertaining which required “the big shops.” Then, when my Father was old and frail, I roamed the aisles, looking for soft foods to tempt him: donuts, puddings and jellos, baby food (again), and diapers (adult size this time).

My mother’s last trip outside her home was to the grocery store. She wanted to get out of the house and drive somewhere close. So she went to Kings. She told me how she enjoyed the air conditioning, and how nice everything looked, so colorful and bright. She was dying, but she smelled life in the grocery store.

Mother of the moment

2008-06-13T08:43:00.014-05:00

I'm thinking about how when I was a young mother, it never occured to me that there are different kinds of mothering you do at different moments in your children's lives. These thoughts are all rising up in me as my children become adults and prepare to leave home.

So: You are a different kind of Mother at different moments of your children's lives. Back home from the hospital with your newborn, you are, quite simply, the cow. Your job is to provide milk.

Then you become the teacher. You teach them how to talk, walk, and ETCETERA. The big etcetera takes the next 17 years. LOL! The first time your toddler takes his first steps away from you, realize that they already have one foot out the door, exploring their world. And that your job is to welcome them back, every single time.

As the mother of teenagers, your job is to stop teaching, and to listen. To them.

The job of the empty nest mother is simply to exist.

It is the knowledge of your existence that they want, not your physical presence.

You should be in the house, but not in the room.

You should be there, not here.

You should be alive, not dead.

You have always been here to serve them, but now, you must only be available to help them only when they ask for it.

Memory: The equanimity of George & Helen

It is only now, after the death of my iconic parents, and with the approaching adulthood of my children, that I can fully appreciate the gracious, nonmeddling attitude of my parents toward my life and my brother's life. George & Helen were supportive of whatever we did and let us go. They respected our choices. They let us make our own mistakes and supported us when we needed it.
Mother never complained about spending Christmas or other holidays without us, when we had in-law commitments. Never. I can just imagine she didn't like it, but she never complained. Going home was always a pleasure. They didn't particularly like our choice of spouses...and the ensuing divorces...but they never criticized our choices. WOW! That's a lesson for me. I will keep that in mind!

Teenagers teach you how to let go.

2008-06-12T12:00:00.004-05:00

When your children are young, you often wonder what it will be like when your darlings finally leave home for college. It gives you the shudders. You can't and don't want to even imagine it.

It happens in stages. And if you have done your parenting correctly, one day you will find yourself alone on a Saturday evening.

It will be the beginning of a lifetime of Saturday nights you will now begin to spend without your children, who've been the stars of your life for the past 17 years.

Nina is at a cafe, having an evening chat with friends. Pablo is at the bowling alley with a girlfriend, dancing on the electronic dance machines. He took a change of shirt and a water bottle.

Earlier I cooked, and now there is a pot of pea soup simmering on the stove, for whenever they want it, to make them happy to return home and to remind them that Mother loves them madly.

The wine you buy at this stage in your middle aged life should get progressively finer and more expensive, because although you drink less, you should drink better. Always good to have an animal around, preferably a dog, but a cat at least. My hearth is the television with a good, vintage movie playing and a humming laptop by my side. Cyberspace beckons with huge ideas and life everywhere. Good books and the sensual pleasure of knitting with exquisite Italian wool.

The "children" will call on their cellphones if they need me. Long after I've gone to bed, they will arrive home, socially sated. The idea of my kids in the kitchen, while I'm asleep, comparing their evenings over hot soup and then going to bed... makes me feel I've done my job well and that their home will always be a happy place in their hearts.

Psst....It's all about the accessories...

2008-06-10T10:25:00.002-05:00

Before I begin to share my tips for beautiful and easy dressing, culled from a lifetime of mistakes and learning… let me get this off my chest.

Have you noticed how the world looks as though they are walking around in their pajamas, or, coming and going to the gym? If you really look at people in the mall or at the airport it will positively hurt your eyes: sweatshirts, exercise clothes, Bermudas, sweatpants, baggy jeans. Ouch!

You don’t have to sacrifice comfort for elegance, ever. Even on long haul airplane flights. Sleek black yoga pants from Lululemon have a great street cut and are comfortably stretchy for long hours squished into a seat. Layered with t-shirt, sweater, scarf…and you’re looking great and comfortable

Natural fibers are your best friend. Natural fibers breathe and they feel good on your skin. They are always classic and elegant. The basics are: cotton, linen, silk and wool.

The classics are the basics. A great pair of good fitting jeans. Khaki slacks. Black slacks. A white cotton shirt. A white linen shirt. A white t-shirt. A black t-shirt. A denim shirt. A flannel shirt. A black sweater. Black skirt. “Little Black dress” Black shoes. Great sneakers. Solid loafers and flats. A wonderfully cut blazer. A trench coat. A great tank bathing suit.

Which brings me to my major fashion secret, which isn’t a secret at all.

It really is all about the accessories. Once you have the basic classics... great accessories make or break an outfit. Accessories are the things that truly define you and set you apart from others. Here’s the litmus test: two women are wearing the same jeans and a white shirt. One woman has a beautiful watch, nice leather flats and an exquisite leather handbag. The other woman has tatty sneakers and a dirty canvas bag. One looks lovely and elegant. The other looks sloppy and…poor.

Today I’m wearing a simple white t-shirt and a black skirt. The reason you won’t mistake me for a waitress is my huge, red bead multi-strand necklace and my Donald Pliner delicate black gladiator sandals.

I learned about accessories when I lived in France. Sit in a café in Paris and you’ll see every woman has a gorgeous handbag and an excellent watch. Are they all rich? No. French women save up for one fabulous handbag, instead of having a wardrobe of inexpensive ones. One good watch. One great Hermes scarf. And then they wear it.

Shoes tell everything about you. Buy the most expensive, comfortable shoes you can afford. Everyone has their niche when it comes to what’s an expensive shoe. Even if I could afford them, I am not interested in Carrie Bradshaw’s Manolo Blahniks. I have found a comfortable, stylish niche with Donald Pliner and Cole Haan. For sport, Merrill. Expensive shoes do last longer and look better.

Jewelry must-haves. A good, classic watch. One elegant gold ring. Large enough diamond stud earrings. A strand of good pearls. You don’t need a lot, you just need exquisite. After you have the basic pieces, then you can start to play with necklaces, bracelets and rings. Be aware that jewelry is a never-ending lust; you will always see a piece of jewelry that you want. Your taste evolves as your grow older (and richer) as well. Costume jewelry is acceptable if you have great taste and pile it on for effect; not trying to pretend it is something that it isn’t.

Beware your underwear. Life’s too short for stretched out, fugly underwear. Buy it often and throw it out often. When it comes to style, comfort is everything. If you are not comfortable in your underwear…what hope is there for your day? You don’t need to spend a fortune. Good style has trickled down to Calvin Klein, Victoria’s Secret, Banana Republic. Start with natural fibers of course, meaning in this case: cotton. Save the lacy little nothings for when you don’t need such support for long hours at a time.

Handbags. Entirely too complicated to go into here. I can hear you laughing…as some of you know, I have a... love... of handbags. Just start with one good black leather handbag, and one evening bag. A beautiful small evening bag dresses up something as simple as black pants and a black sweater, and also can look great with jeans and a t.

Spend what you probably think is a small fortune on a good wallet. You have purchased correctly, if afterwards you moan and say, “Why…I could have bought xx for the same amount of money!” Wallets are expensive. All that craftsmanship in such a tiny space. But how many times a day do you reach for your wallet? At least 20, if not more. Your wallet is a trusted companion and the years it will last will amortize it to a sensible sum to have spent.

If it’s night, it must be black. I always chuckle when someone asks me “What are you wearing tonight?” After all this time do they even have to ask? Is there any other color?

Black is always perfect, chic, appropriate. Black always looks great. Black is always impeccable. Black can look casual, or dressy. The little black dress can go to work, cocktails, dinner, theatre, a funeral. Black slacks and sweater looks good in almost every situation, day or night. Black is also: slimming. Is it any wonder why the people who work at fashion mags wear black?

Alas, when I moved to the tropics, it became impossible to wear black during the day. The white light of the sun just doesn’t work with black clothing. So, white and khaki have become my new black.

What is the single, greatest fashion accessory? A great body. By “great body” I don’t mean you need to be reed slim. Have your own great body – in shape, a good weight, physically fit and most important, healthy. If you are happy with your body, you look good. Try the jeans test: if you look good in jeans and a white shirt…you’re looking good! Sometimes you don’t need to buy new clothes…you just need to lose a little weight.

Overaccessorizing. This is a great piece of WASP advice I learned in Lisa Birnbach's "The Preppie Handbook" that I think is really good. When women dress for the evening, they err towards over accessorizing. So here it is: When you are finished dressing and ready to leave, stand in front of the mirror and take off one thing. Now you are ready to go out. It never fails.

Underdressed is better than overdressed. This is my personal opinion and you can feel free to disagree. Elegance means: pared down, or as Diana Vreeland said, “Elegance is refusal.” Only if I am invited to meet royalty or going to the Vienna Opera Ball, would I even consider wearing a long gown. Simple clothes and expensive jewelry makes me always dressed correctly.

Your fashion signature. After my first visit to Italy years ago…I have always owned a pair of red flats. I learned this from watching those effortlessly chic Italian women who always have something “tweak” their look. Red flats are my finishing touch; they are a smile. What’s your fashion signature?

The Shirt on your back -or- How to get dressed

2008-06-09T13:42:00.004-05:00

What's the big deal? You wake up, you get dressed.

Clothing, like almost everything in life, is a paradox. Clothes can make your life miserable or charming. "Clothes do not make the man," and yet, the right clothes for you, can make you a happier, more confident, comfortable person. Wearing clothing that isn't you can make you feel rotten, affect your experience of an event, or uncomfortable in something too tight or too short.

"Don't judge people by the clothes they wear." And yet, we do. The clothing you choose to wear speaks volumes about you.

There are trillions of choices out there. Who are you and what will you wear? What is your style? Why does something look good on someone else and look terrible on you?

Understanding your personal style is a process that can take years. Your personal style can change in your different careers and lifestyle changes. When I worked in the public affairs department of Exxon Corporation in New York City, I wore the constricting, unimaginative uniform of the 80's career woman: silk blouses, stockings, conservative skirts, tailored jackets. I never felt good about these clothes, or the job. These were not my happiest years. I own none of this clothes today.

A few years later I became a copywriter in an ad agency, and I dressed stylish and creative wearing the high fashion of Comme des Garcons, Issey Miyake, Agnes B. I was much happier. I spent a fortune on clothes, none of which I own today, either.

That's because I became a mother and my style changed again, into quick to put on easy to care for clothes that babies could throw up on. I spent a lot of time on the floor too with the babies. So it was jogging clothes, leggings with big tops, jeans.

Then I moved to the tropics where clothes faded and lost its shape in a matter of months due to the calcified water, bleaching from the sun, extreme heat, and mildew. My friend Jean Cappello came to the rescue. "The secret to tropical dressing is to get yourself to the Gap or Banana Republic and buy some great cotton and linen pieces and wear them for six months, then throw them out and start over." Which is what I do and now I always look fresh and stylish.

Some people don't care what they wear. Others obsess. As in everything, the secret to clothing happiness is moderation. You want to get to the point where you enjoy your clothes, dressing is easy and fun, and shopping is not a bother.

Experiment with clothes. Have fun, try different things on. See what looks good on you, what feels good on you. Of course you'll make mistakes from time to time. To be expected. When you find yourself attracted to the same thing, over and over, you'll know it's you.

Tomorrow: my best clothing tips.

Thought of the day

2008-06-09T13:37:00.005-05:00

There are two enduring things that we should aspire to give to our children: the first is roots, and the second is wings. -- Hodding Carter

Death "etiquette" -- as if there could be such a thing...

2008-06-06T09:31:00.005-05:00

Here are some understatements: Death is as real and common as birth. Death is, actually, life's main event. Death is the ultimate unknown.

But we don’t want to think about it. We don't like to talk about it.

So, when death arrives in our lives via our families and our friends, we feel unequal, insecure and awkward about how to deal with it. Death strips your soul raw. Here are some gentle tips to help you through.

I live in a place where wakes and funerals are an accepted and crucial social event to honor a person’s life and make your love and support known to the grieving family and friends. My kids grew up going to wakes and funerals, and I would like to think they feel comfortable with death in a way that I didn't when I was a child. My parents were so uncomfortable about death they never went to funerals if they could help it.

Don’t shy away from dying people. Visit the dying. They have a lot to teach you. The dying are in a holy state, hovering on an invisible border. They are the closest you can be to divinity in your living, breathing life.

When my father was dying, my Mother and I spent hours sitting with him. He seemed to be very busy in his mind, doing "soul work." If I talked to him, I felt I was disturbing him. I was in despair. I asked a friend who is a pastor and who has sat through many death vigils, "What should I do? How should I be?"

His words comforted me. "Your presence is all that is required. You take your cute from your father. If he wants to talk, listen. If you wants you to talk, then talk. If he wants silence, be silent. But your presence is what is important. Don't feel you hav to entertain him or say dramatic goodbyes. Just be. Be there."

Go to funerals. Your presence gives comfort to the friends and relatives. Your presence is an honor to the deceased, bearing witness to the goodness of their life. You don’t have to worry about what you should say or do. Anything you say or do is perfect. It is your presence that is everything. An embrace, a hand holding says volumes.

Death does not mean an end to your relationships. Whatever relationship you had with the person in life, will be the same one you have in death. Yes, when someone dies, your earthly relationship with that person is over. You can’t sit at a table and share a meal, you can’t call them up for a chat on the phone.

But your emotional and psychological relationship with them never ends. Conflicts that you didn’t resolve with them during your earthly time together will reappear until you work through them. Your relationship is never over with the people you loved in your life.

Tears are a good thing. This is no time to be dry eyed. Cry as much as you can, as much as you want. You’ll cry for every reason – for what was resolved and what wasn’t. For what you said and what you didn’t. Because you’re sad for yourself, because you’re sad for their family. Souls can hear you.

Death is a maestro, the ultimate teacher. Every person’s death that you experience should bring you closer to life, and to your own life. Let death bring you closer to your loved ones, help you to mend broken relationships, release the hate and vonfusion in your heart.

Don’t judge other people’s death. Dying is a messy, human business. Since we only die once, dying is not something we know how to do. There is no right or wrong way to die. Some countries, like Holland, have legal euthanasia. Others countries have organizations, like Exit in Switzerland. There is no easy way out. It is just as hard. Just as in childbirth, any behavior that gets you to the end result is fine. Every person’s death is unique and to be honored.

Letting go is hard. Often, it helps, when a person is in the final stages, to assure them that they are doing great, that there is nothing to fear, that everything will be okay, that you will be okay, that they can let go. Often, dying people need “permission” to let go. Sometimes people die precisely when you leave the room.

My brother was plagued by the fact that he was not with our Mother when she passed away. She died in her bed, in her bedroom, in her home, cared for lovingly by my brother. He had gone downstairs to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. When he came back to her room, she had passed. He felt guilty. I told him that I couldn’t die in front of my children, that my all-encompassing love for them would make it hard for me to leave. He took comfort in my words.

Don’t ignore your feelings about death. Acknowledge them. If you feel frightened, uncomfortable, whatever, live all these feelings, think about them. Death is the ultimate unknown and all our fears are justifiable.

Read books bout death, both clinical and spiritual. When my Mother was dying, I learned a lot from talking to the Hospice workers, and from reading a lot of material published by the hospice movement.

Grieving takes a long time. Expect death to shock you, to make you feel vulnerable, exposed and unimaginably sad. Grieving takes on different strengths, different faces and different stages. It can take years to “get over” someone’s death. And you never really “get over” a death of a loved one.

Often at first, when a friend or family member dies, you feel relief. This is natural. You have just seen this person suffering. And now, they are at rest. The grief will come later. The mourning comes in waves and in stages. It lasts longer than you think.

Let time do its gentle work on you.

More thoughts on death

2008-06-05T13:46:00.006-05:00

When Pablo borrows the car to go out for the evening I always say, “Please drive carefully.”
“Of course,” he says flippantly.
“No, really,” I say.
“Well, we’ve all got to die sometime,” he replies with the insouciance of youth.

When you are young, you feel invincible. Death is a fuzzy concept, something that happens to other people, to old people. You can’t even imagine your own death.

We Mothers know how fragile life is. We know that death is always only one breath away, one heartbeat away. My job as your Mother, when you were born, was to keep you alive. My job, for the rest of my days, is to wish you happiness and life.

The “Tibetan Book of Living and Dying” is a book that I keep by my bedside. Not because I am morbid, but because I am life loving. The Tibetan idea is: if you are always aware that you are going to die, you will live a better life. This book helps me to live joyfully every day. Instead of waking up in the morning and saying, “Oh, okay,” taking it for granted that you woke up alive, the Tibetans suggest you think, “My God, I’m alive! A miracle! Another amazing day!”

Being born and dying are the only two things you have in common with every single creature on this earth.

I ask that you let the awareness of your death and the death of loved ones help you to live each day joyfully, fully, lovingly, intensely, freely, lightly. Live always respecting the sheer miracle of being alive. See "the tiger in the grass" every day because he is indeed, hovering there.

In Sherwin Nuland’s illuminating book, “How We Die,” he discusses people’s desire for “a good death.” But "a good death" is a myth, he says, there is no such thing. Dying is hard work and traumatic. He continues: the only way to have “a good death” is to live a good life, meaning, a life that is rich and full and satisfying for you.

I prefer the term “passing over” rather than death. Death signifies an end, a termination. I personally don’t believe in this. Yes, the physical body dies. But the soul does not cease to exist. The soul, that which gives life to our flesh and blood, is divine, it is the energy of our consciousness, and when we pass, this energy transforms into something else.

Believe in angels. They abound all around us. In many forms, both seen and unseen.

Here is an excerpt from “Facts of Faith” by Henry Scott Holland that brings me comfort when I miss my Mother, which is...every day.

Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way, which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

Thinking about death

2008-06-04T09:37:00.004-05:00

Death has been on my mind lately...and always, actually. Tomorrow, I'll share some of my thoughts on death with you …but for today, I leave you with a pensamiento by a favorite author of mine, who published her first novel in 1978, "Stones for Ibarra" when she was 68 years old.

Yesterday was my eighty-fifth birthday, and my son, who has had lung and brain cancer for two years, gave me a toy stuffed tiger as a reminder to write, without further delay, a short account of my long life…
…It was only four years ago that I realized I was making my way through the thickets of life together with a scarcely visible, four-footed companion, who matched his steps to mine.
I first learned of the tiger in the examining room of my glaucoma doctor.
Sitting in a black revolving chair, my chin in a rest, my forehead against a strap, and facing an intense light about to be focused on my inner eye, while the doctor at his illuminated glass counter made entries on my record, I turned pessimistic.
“Let us hope,” I said, “that I don’t lose more sight in my right eye,” and went on, “since I have only peripheral vision in my left.”
Without turning from my folder, the doctor said, “Don’t belittle peripheral vision. That’s how we see the tiger in the grass.”
Then he added, “It’s also how the tiger sees us.”
In this way, at the eye clinic, almost at the end of my life, I met and recognized the tiger that was mine and had been from the start.

-- "The Tiger in the Grass" by Harriet Doerr

My Defining Moment: The Black Box

2008-06-03T10:47:00.004-05:00

A defining moment is one that can change the course of your life, change your thinking, and open the world to you in new ways. If you are perceptive, you might have several defining moments in your life. Often, you don’t realize it is a defining moment until days, weeks, months, or years after.

I wanted to tell you about my first, adult, defining moment. I didn’t know it was a defining moment at the time, it just seemed like an experience.

I was an average student in high school – entirely undistinguished and unformed. I drifted through Tenafly High in a cloud of painful self-consciousness, the typical self-doubting adolescent haze.

Chemistry class was the bane of senior year, with the difficult hurdle of its pass/fail chem labs. The first lab was the famous “Black Box.” Away from our prying eyes, Mr. Colombo, our chem teacher, (in my memory, forever wearing his beige lab coat) put an object into a black wood box and nailed it shut. Using the principles of scientific observation we had to figure out what was inside The Black Box.

For one week we could hold it, weigh it, shake it, smell it, listen to it. We could do anything but throw it, or open it. Among ourselves we talked and talked, in study hall, in the cafeteria, at the football game, at gym, in the library, on the phone, as we walked to school in the mornings and home in the evenings, trying to collectively put our observations together and guess what was inside The Black Box.

After a few days, everyone decided it was an empty film canister. Back in 1969 (!) cameras used film, and the film came on a metal canister.

This didn’t make any sense to me at all. A film canister was even, it was light, and it didn't wobble. Whenever I held the box, the object had an uneven roll and an uneven weight, it tilted and seemed to fall on its heavy side, causing it to wobble.

But who was I to think it could be something else, me, Liza Dunkel, not an honors student, me against 120 classmates.

I tried desperately to imagine what it could be. Then, one day during class, my eyes settled on a row of acid bottles. The glass stopper of an acid, or poison bottle, is thick and rounded on the bottom, with a thin plaque to grip it on top. Placed on its side, it rolled and wobbled unevenly. Bingo.

I told my best friend, Janet Feigelson, the super smart star of the honors classes, about my idea of the acid bottle stopper. I told Sharon Goldstein and Mark Jay and other smart kids. They shook their heads. “No way," they said, "It’s a film canister."

No one heard me because I was “just” Liza Dunkel, a nobody.

Everyone wrote up their labs in the little blue books, laying out the arguments about why it was a film canister. For awhile, I actually considered joining everyone, because I could not believe that I could figure out something so different from 120 other people. I had so little confidence in myself, how could I possibly be right? And what if they were all right and I was the only one in the entire senior class who flunked the first chem lab?

But in the end, I just couldn’t do it. I had heard and felt the object tilt. A film canister doesn’t tilt.

Finally, the big day arrived for the great opening of The Black Box.

I had chemistry first period. Standing beside the stack of graded blue lab books, Mr. Columbo smiled at us and shook his head. “What a bunch of dummies,” he said. Everyone groaned. He proceeded to toy with us, lifting off the top of the Black Box looking inside and replacing the top.

“In all of the senior class, there was only one person who guessed correctly what was in the Black Box.”

My head and heart were pounding. Could I be this person? Could it be me? No! I wasn’t smart. How could I alone have figured it out and no one else? No, it must be someone else.

“And that person…is sitting right here in the front row!” he shouted, pointing at me! I screamed with joy amidst the uproar in the room as he held up the glass stopper of an acid bottle.

After class, the word flew through the halls of Tenafly High. I floated with happiness for the rest of the day as I was congratulated (even by Eddie Harris) and looked at with new eyes.

Maybe I was smart, after all. Could I even be, special? The Black Box was the first lesson I had about the need to believe in myself, to listen to myself, to rely on what I thought was true. The Black Box was a premonition of great things to come. It wouldn’t be until college that I would realize my great potential.

Remember children to seize your defining moments and make them yours. I wish you a lifetime of defining moments.

What's wrong with this equation?

2008-06-02T09:40:00.003-05:00

Just some wistful thoughts for you sons and daughters to think about. And also for you Mothers out there too.

When your children are young, you are their hero. Their faces light up when they see you. You can do no wrong. You are their world, their joy, their survival.

Then they get older, and comes the moment when they tolerate you with a smile. They still need you, but you begin to embarrass them. Your sheer existence bugs them.

And then comes the moment I’m in right now. My son can’t wait to leave home. He wants no Mother in his daily life…just a Mother out there – somewhere.

There’s something wrong with this equation. Our children are the beings we love most dearly in our lives. We cherish them, raise them, educate them and then at 18 – after all that loving, which will never stop on our part… we must let go of them, because they want nothing more to do with us!

The only consolation, of course, is that we all felt this way too. Ready to get away from our own Mothers and claim our lives. Ready to live without Mother watching.

It is our turn to let go. It comes with the territory. And if you let go properly, you become the Mother that your kids want to come home to. And after some time passes, you become the Mother who they enjoy being with, again.

Pulitzer Prize-winning author Jhumpa Lahiri, in her new collection of stories “Unaccustomed Earth” writes:

"He remembered his children coming home from college, impatient with him and his wife, enamored of their newfound independence, always wanting to leave. It had tormented his wife and, though he never admitted it, had pained him as well. He couldn’t help thinking, on those occasions, how young they’d once been, how helpless in his nervous arms, needing him for their very survival, knowing no one else. He and his wife were their whole world. But eventually that need dissipated, dwindled to something amorphous, tenuous, something that threatened at times to snap… ...The entire enterprise of having a family, of putting children on this earth, as gratifying as it sometimes felt, was flawed from the start."

No such thing as a late bloomer

2008-05-30T09:46:00.004-05:00

You've heard this expression? "She's a late bloomer." Used in an apologetic tone for someone who is taking their time, or not finding their way, or changing their direction in life.

Late bloomer? What is this? I don't like this expression and think it should be banished.

Life is not a contest or a race.

You might be a later bloomer....but you're never late. It's not about who flowers first.

You just take your own sweet time. Flowers bloom at all times of the year. Early spring flowers...late summer flowers...fall flowers. All equally beautiful at their own special time.

Remember that!

Practice makes Perfect

2008-05-30T09:30:00.004-05:00

Don't wait for--or look for-- the perfect man, the perfect job, the perfect vacation, the perfect house, the perfect car, the perfect dress, the perfect whatever.

If you wait for perfection, you miss out on life's experiences and waste a lot of time. You'll be sitting on the sidelines while everyone else is living.

Just get yourself into the fray and work your way up to perfection! Get a job and then you'll find a better job. Don't wait for Mr. Right; go out with Mr. Okay. He just might turn into Mr. Right.

It really is practice that makes perfect.

P.S. Perfection doesn't exist. When you do find something that's "perfect," it will be perfect for awhile, until you decide something else is... more perfect.

Life with no regrets

2008-05-29T10:15:00.006-05:00

You can't live a life with no regrets. We are human, and there is no such thing as a perfect life.

There are two kinds of regrets in life, those you can do something about, and those you can't.

It is never too late to say I love you or I'm sorry. Depending on your age, it might not be too late to learn or try something new, visit a place, buy a particular thing. If you have the chance to undo a regret, do it!

The regrets that you can't do anything about are the ones that hurt. But don't get stuck! Feel the pain and then move on.

Thinking about your future feeling may help you to think twice before deciding to do -- or not do -- a particular thing. Here's an example: Your friend is in ill health. You are torn about your vacation that you planned with your family -- do you go to the beach with your family, or take some time to see your friend. Ask yourself, "How would I feel if in a year, my friend were gone?" The answer to that guides your decision about what to do. Another question to always ask yourself is, "What would I like to have done to me?" and then act accordingly.

Also, keep in mind the famous saying: "You only regret what you don't do."

You never regret things you have done, because everything - good experiences and bad-- adds to who you are as a person. You never say, for instance, "I regret that I went to Montana where I climbed mountains and rode horses." But you will probably say, "I regret that I never went to Montana."

Here are a few of my gentle regrets. I share them with you, in the hope that perhaps they might help you to think about your lives.

I regret not having started therapy earlier in my life. I went into therapy at age 33. I lived for so many years, unhappy, confused, lost. If I had started earlier, I might have been more in command of my life at an earlier age. Moral: Don't waste time being unhappy. Take control and deal with it. Do whatever it takes to get to th root of your unhappiness, insecurity, whatever.

I regret that I didn't go into the Peace Corps when I was accepted back in 1975. Looking back now...I can't believe I didn't go! What an amazing experience that would have been! I had been accepted to teach English in French speaking Togo. I had the government physical, they pulled my wisdom teeth out getting me all ready for the adventure...and then...I didn't go! Decades later I now understand that it would have sent my life into an entirely different direction. I don't beat myself up about it too much, because, well, my life took other turns. But it is something I think about. Moral: An action not taken can change the course of your life. Only you don't know it at the time! Another moral: Go for it! Take risks!

I regret that I didn't take music more seriously and make it my career. I am tremendously musical. I had a good voice. I played the piano. Most important, I loved music. I'm not saying I would have been a rock star or a concert pianist. Far from it. But I was talented enough to have had a soul satisfying career in music, a music teacher, for instance. Moral: Take your talents seriously.

I regret that I didn't go to medical school. I would have liked to have spent my life in a healing profession. But the fact is, I never took my acadmic achievements or intellect seriously. It never occurred to me that I could become a doctor. I thought it was something other people did. Now I realize, that person could have been me! Moral: Take yourself seriously.

I regret that I didn't have a honeymoon. Not a life shattering regret, but just something to think about. The husband and I didn't have any money for a honeymoon. Or so we thought. We could have at least gone to Atlantic City for a weekend, or something simple like that, to call something a "Honeymoon" and honor the event. As a result, all my life I've said, "I never had a honeymoon." I'm divorced now...and regret not having a honeymoon even more! Moral: You never get a honeymoon again, so do it the first time!

There is one regret you can't win! I'm laughing here! You've all had this experience. It's when you are shopping on vacation and you see something you want to buy. If you don't buy it, thinking, "Oh, I'll see it again, later on, cheaper," I guarantee you, you'll never see it again. And if you buy it then and there, at full price, I guarantee you, you WILL see it again later, cheaper! For some reason this is a no win situation! My advice after a lifetime of this: buy it, enjoy it and carry on!

Celestial Cheesecake

2008-05-28T08:39:00.013-05:00

Since I just spent two days talking about gifts...I thought I'd give you one.

Everyone needs at least one WOW dessert recipe in their repertoire. This is mine. I cherish this cheesecake recipe so much, I want to share it with you.

Many years ago, I asked my Mother's grand friend, Betty Kass, to send me a few of her signature recipes. Betty, who raised her kids in Huntington Woods, Michigan, was a masterful cook, and having some of her favorite recipes would be my way of having her spirit with me always.

My Mother passed away almost two years ago, but Betty Kass continues on as I write this, in an Alzheimer's home in Colorado.

This is a masterful recipe because it is foolproof, easy to make, exquisitely delicate and impressive. It is my idea of a perfect cheesecake: light but creamy. Great to serve at any dinner party, no matter how humble the first course. Make it early and forget about it. And if you bring it to a friend, they will know they are cherished.

But mostly, it is a great dessert to welcome kids, friends and family back home.

Betty Kass' Huntington Woods Cheesecake

Graham cracker crust in a 10" springform pan.

5 eggs, divided into whites and yolks
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp cream of tartar
1 cup sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
3 3-ounce packages of cream cheese
1/2 pint sour cream
1 cup milk

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

1. Make a graham cracker crust in a 10" springform pan.

2. Beat to stiff and set aside: 5 egg whites,1 tsp vanilla, 1 tsp cream of tartar.
3. In another bowl, beat 5 egg yolks to pale.
4. Add 1 cup sugar, 2 tablespoons cornstarch. BEAT well.
5. Add 3 3-ounce packages of cream cheese. BEAT well.
6. Add 1/2 pint sour cream. BEAT well.
7. Add 1 cup milk. BEAT 5 minutes.
8. Fold in the egg whites (from #2 above). Don't beat. Just fold in delicately!
9. Turn entire mixture into graham cracker crust.
10. Bake in 350 degree oven for one hour.
11. Here's the secret! TURN OFF OVEN AND LET SET FOR SEVERAL HOURS. DO NOT OPEN THE OVEN DOOR. DO NOT PEEK!
12. Can be served as is, or top with fresh strawberries and glaze if you like.

Share the magic with someone you love.

"I hope you like it!" On giving a gift.

2008-05-27T09:58:00.007-05:00

The purest way to give a gift is from your heart, with great joy and love. This is true giving.

Gift giving appears to have no strings attached. At best, it is. But in reality, gift giving is full of strings attached: emotional strings, political strings, hidden agendas. Payback gifts, bribery gifts, impersonal gifts. Interesting once you start to think about it.

Gift giving can be political. People give gifts for many different reasons. They can give gifts out of their own sense of guilt. Or to inspire guilt in you. They give gifts out of fear ("every else is giving one") or out of politeness. Some people give gifts out of obligation. Some people give only because they want one in return. Others give you something to annoy. Some give gifts begrudgingly.

How do you choose a gift?

Do you give something you love? And because you love it so much, you hope the other person will love it too?

Or do you think only of the other person and buy something you know they will love? Your friend collects watermelon folk art and you don't particularly like it. But you see a nice watermelon salt shaker, so even though you don't like it, you select it as the gift.

The best gift giving is when you combine the two: something that the other person will like, that has a little bit of you in it. Your taste, your style.

A few of the finer points...and some stories.

At Christmas, when I was a little girl, my mother would ask me what I would like and I would proceed to tell her. But then she would buy me something only if she liked it. No matter that I liked it. Her gift giving modus operandi was if she didn't like it, I wouldn't get it. Of course this made me feel as if my opinion didn't matter.

As a result, I have always made it a point, ever since my kids were born, to get them things on their lists especially if I don't like them.

Because the whole point is to give pleasure and delight when you give a gift. Your pleasure is my pleasure.

I learned a few things about gift giving as founder of The Merida English Library. Our entire collection of books is donated. Over time, we learned we had to institute a policy on how to receive the book donations because because we learned we were hurting feelings. In the early days, a person would come into the library with a bag of books, only to have the volunteer librarian say, "Oh, we have that book," or, "This is a trashy novel," or, "This is in such bad condition, we'll have to throw it out."

We learned that quite often, people weren't giving us their books to make us feel good. They were giving us their books to make themselves feel good. So, our job was to welcome them, be thrilled no matter what the book or the condition of the book, and to thank them for thinking of us. In private, because we had a book policy, we could dispose of the books anyway we wanted: feature them on our shelves, sell them, throw them out or givie them away. The lesson learned was: if you burn out the giver during the gift process they would never give you another book again.

"You can return it if you don't like it." If someone says this to you while you are opening their gift, never say in front of them, at that moment, that yes, you will return it. Accept the gift, let it delight, and return it privately and quietly on your own time, knowing you have the blessing of the donor.

If someone brings, unrequested, a dessert or an hors d'oeuvres to your dinner party and you already have your menu planned and ready, it is not correct to leave their dish in the kitchen and serve only what you prepared. Put everything out.

However, if you bring a bottle of wine to the dinner party, don't expect that it will be opened. If there isn't any wine, or not enough wine, your bottle might be opened. But if the bottle is put away to be enjoyed at some later date, that is perfectly appropriate.

I don't agree with people who say, "Don't bring flowers to your dinner party hostess, because she doesn't have time to arrange them." Flowers are always a lovely gesture and a delight to receive. However, if you do bring flowers, don't expect the hostess to rush into the kitchen, clean and prep them, find a vase, arrange and display them. She might stick them in a bucket of water in the kitchen and save them to enjoy the next day.

What to do when people keep giving you gifts you don't want or like? Well, the first thing is to remember: it really is the thought that counts!

If the "bad" gift givers are business contacts, you might say, graciously of course, "You are so kind! But my company doesn't allow me to accept gifts. So, thank you for your consideration, but please, no more, because I simply can't accept them." They might even be secretly thrilled.

You can always preface your birthday party invitation with "No gifts please!" I'm laughing here, because...if you say it, you should mean it! I recall one woman who threw herself a 40th birthday party and specified, "No Gifts Please" but it was clear, to all who were invited, that she meant, "If you don't show up with a gift I'll be sad."

A gift that's always appreciated?

When in doubt, give a gift that can be consumed. Sometimes people "have everything" or have difficult tastes and are hard to shop for. In this case: a box of lovely French soaps. A bottle of fine Chardonnay. A box of Swiss chocolates. A beautiful candle. A tin of English tea. A jar of home made jam. A luxury handcream. A cellophane bag of Italian biscotti. A plant. Little luxuries are always in good taste and welcomed. You use it up, and it's gone. Pure delight and no clutter.

And then, there's the issue of "regifting" or gift recycling of gifts that you don't want. Never regift to friends. Only to a charity organization please!

"You shouldn't have!" On receiving a gift.

2008-05-26T09:02:00.007-05:00

What's the big deal? Everyone loves receiving a gift. What advice do you need about this?

Well, apparently, a lot. One of my all time disappointments in human nature is a lack of common courtesy. The inability of people to utter a simple, genuine, delighted "thank you" stuns me every time. "Thank you" really is the expression that can make the world go 'round.

Gift giving - and receiving - is actually far more complex than you think. Whenever a gift is involved, there are messages being given and hungers being fed...or frustrated. (Tomorrow's entry will explore all that.) But for today, just know that gift giving and receiving is a human exchange you will participate in all your life. Doing each side of the transaction well adds tremendous enjoyment and satisfaction to your life.

Gift giving is a a social dance with its own choreography. It is a transaction with a beginning, a middle, an end. The giving and receiving of a gift is a cycle that must be completed if both parties are to be satisfied.

The receiver of a gift has a job to do: to acknowledge the giver for his thoughtfulness and generosity.

Not being thanked or acknowledged for giving a gift has killed the joy in gift giving for me. Lately, I haven't been receiving thank you's for wedding and baby shower gifts. I go to the effort to choose something I think the couple will like, or, selected something for which they registered, spend my hard earned money...and then it falls into a black hole! I don't know if they even received the gift, opened the gift, or knew it came from me!

This is low class behavior. I don't care if you have a college degree or are a millionaire. Saying, "Thank you," is priceless and it doesn't cost you a thing.

Always be delighted when someone gives you a gift.
Say "Thank you!"
Ask if you can open the gift right away, because people like having their gifts opened in front of them. Unless of course they say, "Do save it for Christmas morning," or, "Open it at your party tomorrow."
If you love it, then by all means express it! If not, then you must appreciate it. Never show that you don't like it. After all, it really is the thought that counts.
Don't just open it and put it aside. Comment on the gift. Even if you don't like it, there are things you can say: Where did you find it? The color is amazing. It is so exotic. I've never seen anything like it! Tone of voice is everything.
Try to refer to the gift at least once during the course of the time you spend together.
When the person leaves, thank them once again for their thoughtfulness. You just can't overdo, "thank you."
Certain gifts --Christmas, birthday, wedding--deserve a written thank you.

Never say you don't like a gift. Never even show ambivalence about a gift. Even if you have the book, say, "Oh, I adore this book." And you are telling the truth! If it is a particularly close friend, you might be able to utter a geniune groan and say, "Oh dearl...I love this book so much that I already have it!" And they will groan and be disappointed too. And then you'll make the arrangements about who will return the book and get something else.

Tomorrow: on giving!

My favorite time of day

2008-05-25T08:58:00.001-05:00

When it comes down to it, every time of day is my favorite time of day.

But I must admit, in early motherhood, I discovered an especially beautiful time of day. Naptime. But it was not because I finally had time for myself. No, it was because in the few minutes the kids were napping...they were mine and they were: safe.

I write this on a Sunday morning, years later. My now teenage adults are sleeping late after their Saturday night out. During the week, they are busy in their lives, driving in a car, windsurfing in the ocean, going about their daily activities, prone to the risks of everyday life. Young people feel invincible, they think bad things or death happen to other people. But we parents know better. We know how fragile life is.

So as I sip my morning coffee, putter around the kitchen, read the Sunday newspaper, I have a beautiful feeling. My "children" are in my home, asleep. Safe.

This is my favorite time of day.

Thank you dear reader!

2008-05-24T10:41:00.009-05:00

Dear Reader,
Thank you for your tremendous response to The Portable Mother. What started out as an attempt to get my thoughts down about living a "good" life for my Pablo and Nina...turned out to be something else altogether. Your emails, your phone calls, your posts on this blog and other forums that I belong to show that: I love writing it, and you're having a blast reading it.

Who's reading The Portable Mother? Mothers of young children. Mothers of older children. Also, men and women in their 20's, 30's, 40's, 50's. Men and women who have Mothers, and men and women who have lost their Mothers. People who had great mothering...and people who had less than great mothering. People who love(d) their mothers and people who less than love(d) their mothers. People who remember their mothers and people who can't remember any longer.

Readers have told me they send posts to their family members and friends, that its their way of telling them something and not having to say it themselves. Sometimes, you can "hear" a message when it comes from a stranger.

Here's the thing. Your job as a mother in the beginning, is about survival: getting your child socialized and fit for human life. You start at zero with your newborn. Eating, drinking, walking, talking toilet training, dressing, bathing, shoe tying, bicycle riding, reading, writing, etc.

It is just when your child becomes an adult and leaves your home, that you want to convey the interesting stuff, the topics I'm addressing here. But they're gone! And what's more, they don't want to hear it!

That's why I have readers in their 20's, 30's, 40's -- who finally are ready to hear it. They suddenly are open. It is amazing to me how many young people have written me, acknowledging a lack of thoughtful, common sense information in their lives. What happened? They were so busy living, and trying to get away from Mother...that they forgot to ask and, more importantly, to listen.

Even as adults, successful or struggling, there are days when we miss the iconic presence that is MOM. We want Mother -- for that caring, in-your-best-interest advice that no one else can give. How I wish I could ask my Mother certain questions today.

So thank you, dear reader, for your confidence and for your inspiration. Thank you for sharing your stories and giving me ever new ideas and topics to address. Upward and onward.

About Money. Part Three

2008-05-24T09:49:00.005-05:00

How "healthy" is your attitude towards money? Let's say you inherit a huge sum of money tomorrow. What would you do? Go out on a wild spending spree? Buy a house? Travel around the world?

If inheriting money would change your life that much, then you have what I would call a problem with money. If you feel you would go out and immediately trade in your car for a more expensive one, or buy yourself a wildly expensive watch, then you need to think about your relationship with money.

But if you put the money in the bank and think about your life, what you need, what your plans are, then, carefully invest and save some and then spend some, I think that would be a good attitude towards money.

Spend your money wisely. Become a smart consumer. If you spend your money "wisely" you can buy more things and have more experiences. But more important, you will enjoy your purchases much more. If you are buying something big, do your research, do some comparative price shopping.

Buying things on sale is one of the best feelings there is. I have a friend who never buys anything at retail price. "Anyone can pay retail," she says. "The fun is in the chase -- in getting something for less."

There is no correct price for any object. Be aware that "regular" prices are false and "sale" prices are false too. The price is whatever the market will bear. A shirt might start out at $300 but you'll pick it up for $29 at a discount store because no one wanted it and it lost its supposed market value. And just be aware too, that just because something is marked down, doesn't mean it is a bargain. Don't think a discount store is necessarily a deal wither until you've done your homework. A sale at Saks Fifth Avenue migh tbe cheaper than what you pick up at a discount store. The world is a tricky place.

Never be in a hurry to spend your money. If you're not in a hurry to buy, you are always much better off. You can compare prices or wait for a sale. If you don't need the sheets immediately, wait until the January white sale. I often ask salespeople, "When will this go on sale?" You are not being silly or cheapl you are being smart.

One thing I've become quite good at is buying gifts for people when I see the right thing and holding onto it until the gift giving moment arrives. That is how the gift becomes the perfect thing. Christmas shopping during Christmas rush is not fun, nor is having to find a birthday prsent. That is when you are pressured and things sell at their full price.

How much is something worth to you? Get to know yourself. Everyone has a different level of how much they would spend on something. I personally could never spend a fortune on a car. I would feel terrible spending $40,000 on a car when I could have a nice one for $23,000. That's me. Another example: I am renovating a bathroom. The price range in toilets is tremendous. I can buy a toilet for $150 or I can buy one for $800. The technology is the same, they all serve the same purpose. The price difference is in the design. I bought the less expensive one and used the "leftover" money to purchase rustic tiles for the terrace floor.

Some people are happy with a Timex watch. Some want a $1200 Tag Heuer. Fashion magazines are filled with watches that cost $12,000 -- and someone is buying them. Spending $12,000 on a watch would make me tremendously unhappy. I have a $25 Tiffany crystal votive candleholder, not a $300 Baccarat one. Some of you may know that I love handbags...(ahem) but even I have a threshold when it comes to purchasing one, and as to how many I will allow in my closet at one time. I have a "one in, one out" rule with clothes, shoes and yes, handbags.

I have a friend who worked hard in her job and was careful with her money. She was not wealthy by any means. When her husband started earning a lot of money, her lifestyle changed tremendously as they moved into a different economic bracket. I asked her, "So, are you happy now?" She sighed and said, "You know, now that I can finally afford a $100 while blouse, I want the $300 one." This is but one tiny example of elusive and tricky money is.

Enjoy your posessions but don't let them posess you. Don't let them define you.

Value Experiences over Things. Is it a trip to Paris, or a more expensive car? Will it be an evening at the theatre or a new dress? You must decide what's important for you. But at a certain point in life, you will have basically evrything you need. At this moment, you understand that experiences enrich your life far more than more possessions. An experience makes your soul grow, a thing doesn't. Creating moments, experiences, memories are priceless. Swimming with my children and the dolphins is worth more than any object I could ever own.

Get your money life in order. It clears your head for the other, more important aspects of life on this earth. Determine your priorities. Work to get what you want. Always save some of whatever money you receive. There are no tricks, there is no magic. Common sense and respect of money can bring you great peace of mind, happiness and yes, even riches.

About Money. Part Two

2008-05-20T08:21:00.003-05:00

Learn how to save money.
Always save something out of any money you earn or receive. Saving money is your new mantra, your new religion. Saving should be automatic on your part. If you receive a large sum of money -- an advance on a book, an inheritance, a bonus, you should save 95% of that. Large chunks of money are hard to come by and should be treated with great respect.

Saving money should not be a torture. If it is, you are not doing something right . Perhaps you are living beyond your means, not spending properly, buying badly, allocating poorly. Saving money should be natural and free. Put it away and keep a little bit for your living needs at the time.

Learn how to invest money when you are young. Put your money to work for you. (Instead of you working for it.) Learn the famous "rule of compound interest." If you start saving and investing in your 20's, you will have wealth and peace of mind in your later years. Why struggle to pay for college with actual dollars, when you can save today and let it grow by itself, to the quantity you will need.

I know, it is very hard, when you are in your 20's to discipline yourself and think that you need to save...and that you will ever get "old." But time will fly faster than you ever imagined and you will be grateful for this advice.

Take responsibility for your retirement. Being "old" is hard enough. Who wants to be old and poor? There is nothing worse than being sick and not having money for the doctor. These two scenarios can be avoided with planning and the simple fact of saving a bit of all money that ocmes your way.

Learn how to spend money.
Wisely. You can spend money, or you can spend it well. Spending money should not be frivolous, nor should it be painful. I have a friend who spends every cent she earns and another friend who has buyer's remorse and can't buy a thing without feeling tremendous guilt. You work hard for the money, and money is there to be enjoyed.

Do your homework. See what things cost. Comparison shop. If you don't need something right away, buy it on sale. Ask for "something off." Be a smart consumer. Buy what you need, not what you want. But of course, occasionally you have to splurge. But when you do spend your money, enjoy it.

Money does not bring happiness.
Don't fall into the trap of thinking money will make you happy or that rich people are happy. The rich have the same problems as you and me. All the money in the world can't help my friend whose son has a terrible neurological condition. Another friend has accumulated several million dollars during his lifetime and lives like a miser, never taking vacations, inviting people over to dinner etc.
While money doesn't bring happiness...having enough money can make your life a lot easier. Hence: save!

Money and good taste are entirely unrelated.
Even after all these years I am still surprised when I come in contact with a wealthy person's life and discover, more often than not, how ugly their house is, how badly dressed they are, how boorish their manners. Just because you have money, doesn't mean you know how to live or you spend it on lovely things.

Good taste is what is priceless. Having a good eye or your own personal sense of style lets you live with "champagne taste on a beer budget." I line my garden patio with inexpensive votives that I buy by the ozen at Ikea. My simple, twinkling garden makes everyone feel I'm living luxuriously. It is my personal sense of style that brings wealth into my life. You don't need Gucci, Pucci or Fucci. A trim, toned body dressed in clean, pressed jeans, a nice white shirt and good leather shoes is my idea of perfection.

How to feel like a million(aire).
Feeling rich is far more than just having money. Look at the daily graces in your life. If you enjoy good health, you are truly blessed and rich, because good health, like good taste, is priceless.

Luxury is an attitude. A home made loaf cinnamon swirl bread, still warm from the oven, is luxurious. A vase of fresh wild flowers that I picked myself is luxurious.

It's all about your ability to take pleasure in the details. Cooking a lovely meal for a friend is the most extravagant gift you can imagine. A glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and an excellent cup of coffee in the morning is what makes me feel rich, taken care of, in control of my world, happy with my life.

You've often heard the cliche that the rich are bored with things, that nothing brings them pleasure because they can have whatever they want. The ability to take pleasure in my things is what makes me feel rich. I never taken anything for granted. Perhaps I don't have expensive cars, antiques, first class flights to Paris...but a cup of tea and a clean house make me feel like a million.

To be continued!

The world doesn't owe you a living. About Money.

2008-05-19T09:07:00.007-05:00

Money is very complicated.

That's an understatement.

The relationship you have with money will affect every aspect of your life: emotional, physical, spiritual, mental. Like most of the advice I've given you, moderation is the key. (Oh those clever Greeks...) That's because money is filled with paradox. Money can bring you joy or unhappiness. You can have a windfall, or lose it in minutes. You can be obsessed by money --either getting more of it or fearful of losing it. If you ignore money, you will be tortured by it too.

Money and sex are the two power issues of life. Money and sex make people do foolish things, like lie, cheat, steal, plot, kill. Money and sex are the two issues around which marriages flourish or founder. When you have the "right" amount of each, you don't think much about them. But when you don't have any at all, they are all you think about.

Money is a concrete, worldly thing -- but, another equally important aspect of money that most people ignore is that money is a spiritual thing. Your attitude about towards money affects the quality of your life. If can affect your ability to have harmonious, satisfying relationships. Your attitude towards money determines your ability to enjoy yourself and to realize your true self and your dreams.

If you are constantly anxious about money, or always feel you don't have enough, you need an attitude adjustment. Here are some thoughts about money, from the concrete to the metaphysical. I'll post it over several days. Here is part one.

Buy a book (or several!) about money and read it.
I agree with Suze Orman on this one. We go to college, we learn and study up about everything. But we never take a course in personal finance!

Money is complicated! You need to learn how to earn it, negotiate for it, manage it, save it, invest it, make it work for you. Money has its own set of distinct "rules." Learn what they are. In order to fully understand and respect money, you need to read and study about money. Think about your money, learn about money, read books, talk to experts and friends whose attitudes and money management you admire.

Just as your life's reading should include fiction, non fiction and poetry -- you should also read up on money.

Stop asking people, "How much?"
Often the first two words to pop out of a person's mouth when a friend has purchased something: How much? It is aggravating and besides the point. Assume it costs more than you think. Usually, if something was cheap, the person will offer that information because everyone loves to show how clever they are. But learning the price tells you what exactly? That the other person has money to spend? That the thing they bought was so expensive you could never afford it? That they are richer than you?

When I lived in Manhattan, the first thing people would ask me when they came into my apartment was, "Do you mind if I ask how much rent you pay?" I learned to smile and say, "A lot." The perfect, ambiguous answer. Because what is "a lot?" If means entirely different things to you and me. And that is precisely the point.

In short, asking, "How much" is gawking and just plain rude. More important, stop thinking of everything in terms of its monetary value. If you really want to know the cost of something, you can look it up yourself.

The world does not owe you a living.
Take control of your financial life. Earn the money you need. Be responsible. Don't wait for an inheritance. Don't marry for money. (Who was it who said, "She or he who marries for money, earns it.") Understand that you have the power to earn the money you need and want.

Bite the bullet.
Just as you should not worship money, do not be afraid of money either. By being afraid of money, you give it a power it doesn't have. Never feel powerless about money. Don't feel powerless about earning it, or changing the circumstances in which you find yourself. If something's too expensive, cut down, cut back.

Be honest with yourself about your money. If you are in debt, handle it. Decide what steps must be taken and do something about it. Seek help if you have to.

An example of what not to do is to close your eyes. Some friends lived in an overly expensive house, unable to meet mortgage payments. They lived in daily dread of when it would be taken away from them, creating altars to God in every room and praying daily for a miracle. They kept giving up things in the name of God if only he would act. This is not living, this is hell.

They should have faced reality: Found a cheaper house, sold their house and taken control of living within their means. But they didn't because it would signify in their eyes, defeat and shame. Fact is, we admire those who life themselves out of adversity, those who fight back and win. There is nothing shameful about having to cut back.

Don't compare yourself to others.
This is a true waste of time. There will always be people who have more money than you. And there will always be people who have less. Money does not define a successful life, as you will see. If you want to get into the comparing game, compare yourself only to people who have less than you do.

Being "rich" means more than just having money. Feel rich in your good health. Health is everything, because money cannot buy your good health. So look at your good health, your artistic sensibility, your ability to receive pleasure from literature, art, music, nature, people.

If you are a happy person, you are rich beyond words, beyond money.

To be continued!

Don't stop at "No."

2008-05-18T15:18:00.003-05:00

The world is full of “no.”

No, you will never make it to the Olympics. No, you didn’t get into this college. No, you didn’t get the job. No, you will never write the great American novel. No, you are too old to be a great chef. No, you can’t afford this house. No, you can’t move to Europe.

Don’t believe any of it.

Strange I should say this, because when you were little children, after saying “No!” repeatedly to something you were doing sans cesse, or to one of your endless requests for another cookie, I’d say in exasperation, “Don’t you know that “No” means “No?”

In grown up life however, “no” doesn’t mean stop. “No” is often the first and easiest word out of someone’s mouth. They probably don’t even mean it or know any better. “No” should never stop you. When you are pursuing a person or dream, getting an appointment, trying to return something in a store etc, you have to:

--Get past the “no.”
--Never take the first “no” someone says to you.
--Learn to view “no” as the first step in getting to “yes.”
--And when you have really arrived at NO, then you must take a new direction.

I cannot tell you the number of times I have gotten past, “No.” I view “No” as the beginning, not the end of an encounter. When the credit card person on the end of an 800 number says “No” to my request, I don’t yell at this person, I just view them as powerless to say “yes” to me, and ask to speak to a supervisor. No anger involved. Just get to the person who can say “yes.” Sometimes it is as easy as saying goodbye, hanging up and calling again to get a different operator who says "yes" immediately.

Get yourself to the person who can say “yes,” – even if it is the President of a company.

Your goal in life is to get to “yes.” When I was looking for a job as a copywriter in advertising, if I had stopped at every “No,” I would never have had the happy, successful career I did. Imagine all the “No’s” I heard as I walked around Manhattan with my portfolio, trying to get a creative director to see me.

“No, you can’t have an appointment.” “No, he’s not interviewing anybody.” “No there are no openings here.” “No, he is too busy.” “No, we don’t hire junior copywriters.” “No you don’t have any job experience.”

Sometimes, getting to the person who can say yes is as simple as waiting until the secretary has gone to lunch and the person himself answers the phone and you’ve got five seconds to make your case.

Another way to get past someone’s “No” is to enlist that person to help you. When I was founding the Merida English Library, a woman named Marilyn Smith would come in and tell me I'd never get it off the ground. I realized I had to turn this woman into my ally. I said, “Look, I really need this children’s reading room to work. How can we make this happen? Can you help me?” In short, keep the conversation going. Turn the “no” into a positive, problem solving experience.

And finally, there are times when you really will arrive at a definitive "No." Don’t beat your head against the wall and remain bitter or antagonized. Accept it, knowing that you’ve exhausted all possibilities. Change your tactic and move on to a new situation where your outcome will be yes.

When the first No really means No In sexual matters. If either man or woman says no, IT MEANS NO. It does not mean yes. No in this case means No and you should not persist your way to yes.

Airport Mother vs. Helicopter Mom

2008-05-15T08:27:00.007-05:00

It is May, and I am in the final days of driving Pablo to school, as he graduates in June. I have had the pleasure of driving him to school for 16 years. When he gets out of the car with his deep voice and his heavy backpack, I think of the three-year-old he was, "just yesterday" running into Pixie PreSchool to get his hands on the Playskool doctor's kit.

I have never complained about all the driving I've had to do over the years -- and it has been considerable-- because I learned early on that driving in the car is when your kids really talk to you. The most interesting things, deep thoughts, confessions and wonderings float up as you wait for a light to turn green.

When Pablo goes to college in August, I will become what my Mother was to me for most of her life: an airport Mother. How I recall seeing my Mother's anticipatory face, wandering through the baggage claim, looking for me, and the happy light in her eyes when she saw me. "Yoo hoo!" she'd call. Her daughter was home.

The airport Mother is always happy to go to the airport to pick up her "child" and always takes her "child" back to the airport when he must leave to go back to his own life.

Whereas, the helicopter Mom is a somewhat derogatory term, used by college administrators, to describe a mother who sends her child to college, but hovers over him the whole time, ready to swoop down and fix his problems or whisk him away at the slightest call. Or sometimes, even uninvited.

My older brother, Buzz, describes raising children with an analogy to the solar system. You are the earth and your child is your moon, orbiting around you for 18 beautiful years. Then, the child breaks free, like moons do, and drifts out of your gravitational pull, to orbit around a different planet. Occasionally, your orbits intersect and you fly together for awhile, but then, again, off he goes. You are in the same solar system, but in different orbits.

It is amazing: You will spend more time without your children than you ever spent with them! You really only have the fulltime pleasure of your children for the 18 years they live at home.

You've all heard some of your friends or acquaintances say, in a pained tone, "Oh gee...I have to go see my Mother," anticipating a draining, needy Mother.

I want to be the kind of Mother whose child says, "I'm going home to see my Mother!" The welcoming, approving, supportive, fun Mother. The home where the bed is made up, the soup bubbling on the stove, the car keys dangling so they can go out and see their friends.

Planet Mother. Because it's a rough solar system out there.

Sunshine Eggs

2008-05-14T08:27:00.005-05:00

When my kids were little, I learned that if I named a dish, they enjoyed it all the more.

Sunshine Eggs is not so much a recipe, but an assemblage of common ingredients which, when combined in a certain way...creates a breakfast moment!

Just this morning as I drove Pablo to school (May of his senior year in high school, so you can imagine his mood...) I told him I would post the recipe for Sunshine Eggs. He smiled. I said, "Someday, you will cook this for your girlfriend in the morning, and she will love you even more." And of course, someday, he will cook this for his children and they will think he's the most amazing dad in the world. But let's not get ahead of ourselves here!

I discovered this dish in the film, "Moonstruck" when Cher had it for breakfast. It seems to be of Italian origin? Well, now it is Sunshine Eggs. To start your day with a burst of sunshine.

Sunshine Eggs

1 slice of bread. (Little children like the softness of regular bread. But a more elegant version for the more adventurous is to cut a diagonal slice of French or Italian bread.)

1 egg.

Butter, salt & pepper.

1. Cut out a small hole in the middle of the bread. What size hole? About the size of an egg yolk. What do you do with the hole? Eat it or give it to your dachsund!
2. Heat a nonstick skillet. When nicely heated up, plop in a pat of butter.
3. When the butter is sizzling, put the bread into the middle of the skillet.
4. Let the bread crisp for about 20 seconds.
5. Break the egg into the hole of the bread. The yolk should go into the hole. The egg white will go where it wants to. It might stay on the stop, it might seep around to the bottom. It's all good.
6. When you feel the egg yolk has set a bit, with a spatula, pick up the bread and the egg and gently flip it over. You want the egg yolk to stay whole.
7. When you feel the egg white has cooked and the bread is crispy, slide it onto a plate and serve immediately.
8. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.
9. Place dish in front of you and NOW you can pop the egg yolk with your fork. The yellow spreads all over the toasty bread, like sunshine, making it all eggy and delicious.

The Five Simplicities

2008-05-13T09:29:00.007-05:00

I've been away on business to Princeton, NJ and a one day shopping fling in Manhattan (amazing how much credit card damage you can do in one day)...so I thought I'd get back in the groove with some simple thoughts that were years in the learning. These simplicities can ease your way in the world and make life a whole lot nicer, for you and for others as well.

1. Be nice to the little people. First of all, there is no such thing as "little people." They are big people in little jobs. They control the access to the big people you want to get to. These people have the ability to make your life hell or heaven. They have the ability to get your papers slid in after five o'clock, to protect you from "situations," and to get you where you want to go.

When I worked in advertising, I always treated the secretaries like queens. Not only my secretary (who would cover me if I spent too long at lunch or stay late to get something done for me) but also, the secretaries of the higher ups whom I had to please. Those secretaries guarded access to the important people and could get me appointments as well as be a source of information when I needed it, even going so far as putting in good words for me. I am not implying that I used these people, just treated them with courtesy and genuine concern. I always gave gifts for Christmas, lunch for birthdays and flowers on special occasions.

Amazing how a small but caring gesture goes such a long way. The mailman will hold a package for you instead of returning it back into the system; the garbage collector might good naturedly take away something beyond the call of duty; a store clerk who actually makes the effort to help you locate what you're looking for or calls you when something's come in.

2. Make your bed each morning. I know, not what you wanted to hear. Not something you think has the key to the universe. And I'm not saying, "make your bed" because someone will come over to your house and think you are a slob.

No. A made bed gives you the gift of a fresh, orderly state of mind from which to begin your day. A made bed greets you happily and calmly each night. This is no joke; it is extremely important. An addendum to this is: wash the dishes at night before you go to bed. Even when you're tired and say, "I'll do it in the morning." You want to start the day inspired and unencumbered when you walk into the kitchen in the early a.m. -- not burdened by yesterday's business.

3. Find the joy in daily life. Do not wait for "big" things or moments to come and make you happy. Don't say, "I'll be happy when vacation comes." Be happy now. If you make something so big in your mind, when it arrives, you will find it doesn't make you as happy as you had imagined. And besides, why wait for a "happy moment" when you can live happy, every day.

Happiness is not something you wait for. Happiness is something you make. Or recognize. Life is made up of a continuity of small moments, therefore, the small things are what add up to big happiness. Try to do everything beautifully, even the "lowliest" task, knowing that you are honoring yourself and others, honoring life itself, and you will find yourself living in grace and... happiness.

Don't take daily life for granted. Happy moments simply need to be acknowledged. It is so easy to say, "I am so depressed," and great courage to say, "I am so happy!"

Take charge of your happiness. Practice it! You are taking your first sip of morning coffee accompanied by the crinkle of The New York Times. Say, "I am happy." Take a walk with the dog, smell the sweet country air and say, "I am happy." Sip a cup of cocoa in bed with a book at night and say, "I am happy." And you will be.

4. If you are sad, lonely, bored, get outside yourself. It's an easy solution and it works every time. I tell you this with great meaning because I spent too many years floundering in loneliness.
Read a book. Books are the ultimate best friend. Books open the world to you. Better yet, go sit in a cafe and read a book. Join a library. "Libraries Change Lives."
Exercise is a great way to get outside yourself, change your attitude and feel better phsycially. Go for a walk, a bike ride, a swim, a rollerblade.
Volunteer. Help someone less fortunate than yourself.
Learn something new. Learn how to sail, how to knit, how to speak a new language.

Life is entirely too short to spend on sad, lonely, bored.

5. Surrender your soul to the joy of art. Make art an integral part of your life. Art is the soul's expression of divine creation. Art is an infinite inspiration to your life. Art comforts and inspires. Art challenges and explains. Go to museums and galleries and see how people over the ages have tried to capture the varieties of the human experience on canvas and in sculpture. Go to concerts and recitals. Bathe your life in music, the soundtrack to your life. Support artists always.

Now...carry on!

"Don't complain, don't explain."

2008-04-25T09:25:00.003-05:00

These four simple words have accompanied me for decades. I can’t remember now where I read this quote, (if you do know, please leave a comment below) but they have made my life easier, comforted me in difficult times and bestowed grace on me.

This, of course, is about the “other” kind of complaining. Negative complaining.

Emotional complaining and being negative are not only a waste of time, it is bad for your soul. For more eloquent explanation of this, read “A New Earth” by Eckhart Tolle.

You know what I’m talking about. The kind of complaining that goes round and round, leaving you no better off. On the receiving end, you phone a friend and say, “How are you?” And man…you hear about it! What a downer.

Being negative doesn’t raise your spirits or get you what you want.

Secondly, you don’t need to explain yourself all the time to everyone. You don’t owe the world an explanation for everything you do or don’t do.

“I can’t come to dinner because my sister is arriving and she doesn’t have a car and my car is in the shop so I have to go to the airport to get her but the taxi is so darn expensive and I’m a little broke now because the paychecks at work got delayed because there was a power failure and the computers were down, and can you imagine we had to sit there steaming for the entire afternoon, which made me late…”

A simple, “Thank you so much for the invitation, but I can’t join you this evening.”

Tone of voice is everything. People sense authenticity and sincerity.

I’m not saying you can’t share the issues of your life with a friend (that’s what friends are for) …just not everyone. If a friend really wants to hear about your mood, your doctor’s appointment, the current drama in your life, they’ll let you know.

Someday you'll be going round and round, stuck in negativity...and these four words will spring up like a mantra to calm and simply your life, silencing the clutter of your mind.

“Don’t complain. Don’t explain.”

How to complain

2008-04-24T10:32:00.003-05:00

Learning how to complain properly can serve you well for the rest of your life. It can make your life a lot easier and more pleasant.

I’m not talking about bad mood complaining like, “I hate my hair,” or “That movie was terrible!” (I’ll cover that kind of complaining in another blog entry.)

I’m talking about constructive complaining, for when things in life don’t go your way or don’t happen properly or to your liking.

For instance: You’re in a restaurant and the fish you ordered doesn’t taste fresh. The new windows weren’t installed properly in your house. A charge showed up on your credit card after you cancelled the purchase.

1. Complaining properly is all about your tone of voice. If you speak with an annoyed tone, angry, ready to kill – all the other person hears is your tone of voice, and not the substance of the complaint. All they think is, “This person is a jerk,” or “What a bitch!” All they see is a crazy, impossible person. And they don’t want to help you.

2. Start with a compliment. “You know, I eat in this restaurant at least once a month and I’ve always had a delicious food here. But tonight, there is really something wrong with this fish.” This establishes you as a sane, decent person with a legitimate complaint.

3. Complain calmly. State the facts in an even tone of voice.

4. Realize that the person you are complaining to, in many cases, isn’t responsible for the problem, so don’t treat them as if they are. Yelling at a waiter because the soup is cold isn’t good. His job is to carry the soup to you; it is the job of the chef to make sure the soup is hot. Yelling at a credit card person doesn’t help, because s/he is just an employee with no power, taking your call.

5. If you are nice and/or civil to the person you complain to, then they will want to help you resolve the issue.

6. Make a suggestion as to how you want the problem resolved. Don’t just say, “This fish doesn’t taste fresh.” Say, “This fish doesn’t taste fresh, and I don’t feel comfortable eating it. I would like to send it back to the kitchen and have a steak instead. Also, could you please tell the chef to check the fish, so that other patrons won't get sick?" You have to tell people what you want, what would make you happy.

7. Don’t stop at no. If someone can’t help you, don’t yell at him or her, antagonizing the situation even more. Simply ask to speak to the manager, headwaiter, or supervisor. But not in a threatening tone. “I understand you can’t help me resolve this. Can you please pass me to your supervisor?”

8. Write letters. Write emails. Write to the President of the company. She or he probably won’t personally read your letter, but I know from working in corporate America, that all letters to Presidents get read and answered by someone who will take action on behalf of the Prez.

I’ve had people bend over backwards to help me resolve a situation. I'm not saying it is easy, or that you won't have to be tenacious sometimes, to get what you want. My New Yorker magazines disappeared for 4 months. I wrote to the subscription department, with detailed explanations, and they got me my back magazines and extended my subscription for 6 months longer as a compensation, thanking me for being so detailed in my report. Another recent example is that recently, my credit card was billed incorrectly. It took several calls and emails, but finally, I found the person who would credit the mistaken charge. Then, I received 5000 points as a "We're sorry," compensation.

Cigarettes?

2008-04-23T09:07:00.006-05:00

Do I even have to address this stupid topic?
A cigarette is cancer in a stick.
You can either get active cancer (smoking) or passive cancer (being around someone who smokes). Take your pick.
Do you want to huff and puff and be short of breath?
Do you want to have yellow teeth and bad breath?
Do you want extra wrinkles and crepey skin?
Is there something wrong with the air you breathe?
Do you want to experience the joys of lung cancer or emphysema?
Do you have lots of money to waste?
There is no one good reason for the existence of cigarettes.
Cigarettes = pure stupidity.

Love your hair

2008-04-22T08:38:00.005-05:00

Let me spare you years of anguish.

There are two things you should understand if you don’t want your hair to drive you crazy for the rest of your life. In the grand adventure that is life, hair is not worth all the worry.

Hair grows. If perchance you get it cut into a style that doesn’t work for you, relax. Hair grows. If you get tired of short hair, grow it. If you are tired of long hair, cut it. Never think that you can’t change your hair or that a mistake is irreparable. “This too shall pass.”

Understand your hair type and accept it. This is where most people’s problems with their hair begin. It is a common belief that whatever kind of hair you have, you wish it were different.

Your hair cannot be what it is not. It is by trying to work against your hair type that you cause yourself needless anguish. Why work against your own good looks? Be the best YOU can be. Nature knows best. You have exactly the hair that you should have.

Of course, experiment. You have to. It’s part of life. Get a perm. Try highlights. Go super short. Then go long with a ponytail. Cut bangs. Grow bangs. But in the end you will see that f you have straight hair, you really look better with straight hair. And if you have curly hair, all your efforts to straighten it won’t really be in your best interest. But there are lessons you must learn yourself.

Hair Tips

1. Forget what’s in fashion. Go to the style that is most attractive for your face and for your hair type. You never saw Jackie Kennedy in a shag or a pixie.

2. At a certain point in your life, you must give up the hairstyle of your youth. When you are young, your youth is what carries you and basically anything looks good on you. But steer clear of the Miss Havisham effect. (Remember Great Expectations by Charles Dickens?) Have you ever seen older women who insist on looking like they did when they were seventeen? Scary. Modify your hair to your age so you look your best.

3. Beautiful hair is healthy hair. Don’t mistreat it. Don’t over perm, over color, or go without cutting your hair.

4. Your hair is your permanent fashion accessory. It can make or break your look. If you are beautifully dressed but have dirty or badly cut hair, you have ruined all your effort. Keep your hair nicely clean and trimmed. Learn how to use gels to slick your hair in different directions if you don’t have time to wash or are having a bad hair day.

5. There is no such thing as a “bad hair day.” This is a subjective perception on your part and has nothing to do with reality. If you announce to people (and you shouldn’t) “I’m having a bad hair day,” they will invariably say, “Oh, I think your hair looks great.” What to do if you feel less than thrilled by your hair? Use gels. Wash it and start over. Maybe it’s not a bad hair day but rather, time for a haircut. But some great hats. Learn to use head wraps. Laugh.

6. Spend money on great haircuts. A good cut can absolutely transform your hair, your face, your entire being.

7. “Men like long hair.” Forget it. This is a myth that has tortured women for eons. What you want is to look and feel your best. You’re the one wearing your hair on your head, not the man. If you wear long hair and it looks terrible on you, you are not doing yourself a favor. You are playing the pleasing game and you will never be your own person.

8. Fashion magazines have nothing to do with reality. A magazine photograph represents a split second of time, where the model has been prepped by a phalanx of stylists, hair, makeup and editors. Her hair has just been arranged, strand-by-strand, with the hair stylist standing off camera with a brush should one strand budge.

This is not real life, nor is it your life. Enjoy the fantasy, but embrace the reality: YOU are the real, (gorgeous!) thing.

P.S. Happy Birthday to my darling daughter Nina, who is 16 today!

The 11 must-have people in your life

2008-04-21T07:38:00.004-05:00

You can't get through life alone. You cannot possibly be an expert in every area of your life. Wherever you live and especially, when you move, try to find these important people who are basic to your well being. Cultivating lifelong relationships is even better.

Get referrals from people you like and respect. My gynecologist, besides being a superb doctor, has an extraordinary personality. Whenever I need a specialist I ask him, for he has a chain of equally good doctors with extraordinary personalities.

Don't wait for the crisis point to find a lawyer or a doctor. When you are in an emergency, you are not in the mood to be interviewing people. You want to have them at the ready. Always be open to meeting these individuals, so that when you do need their help, you feel confident in their abilities and that they have your best interests in mind.

1. A good doctor.
2. A good dentist.
3. A good mechanic.
4. A good lawyer.
5. A good plumber.
6. A good electrician.
7. A good accountant.
8. A good hair stylist.
9. A good therapist.
10. A good spiritual advisor.
11. A good friend.

"Sex & the City" and my kids

2008-04-20T12:48:00.002-05:00

My Mother was horrified that I let my young teenage children watch Sex & the City. She thought it was far too risqué (her word).

I made the usual argument. “Well...they watch how to kill and maim, rape and plunder, how to blow things up, how to load guns and shoot them. What’s wrong with learning about love and sex?” She still didn’t buy it.

Not only did I let them watch it (only occasionally telling them to close their eyes, which they did gladly—sometimes too much information is, well, too much and even they knew it) but when they got to high school, I bought the entire series and we watched it together from start to finish.

It was the best sex education my kids could have had. Because they watched their friends -- Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha -- struggle to make sense of sex. They saw, episode-by-episode, that sex isn't perfect or easy.

We laughed and cried our way through the cocktails, the fabulous clothes, beautiful Manhattan inside and out, great apartments, vacations, cultural events, the restaurants and the bars -- all sprinkled with sex. Rather than turning my kids into precocious or jaded monsters, Sex & the City showed them "it's a wonderful life" but complicated.

They saw good sex, bad sex, confused sex, kinky sex, no sex. They learned an entire lexicon about kissing, hand holding, sexual positions, masturbating, dildos, penis size, premature ejaculation, fetishes, three ways, prostitutes, sexually transmitted diseases, homosexuality, transvestites, et al. But they saw all this vis a vis characters they had come to know and like.

But more than the techniques and vocabulary of sexual life, they saw the excitement, anguish and pitfalls of dating and looking for love. They saw men and women trying to love each other, the missed signals, the fighting, the making up and the sad parting of the ways. They saw loneliness, selfishness, neurosis and generosity. They saw different sexual appetites and attitudes. They saw testicular cancer, breast cancer, alcoholism, drug use – and all how it related to sex and sexuality.

From the vantage point of my age and experience, the best thing they learned is that sex is something you can laugh about -- and then get on with the ever fascinating business of living.

Not your usual sex tips

2008-04-19T12:02:00.005-05:00

1. You are not born a great lover. You become a great lover, by experimenting and learning – what you like, what sex means to you, what your lover likes. In addition to experimental learning, do some homework and hit the books. There are some great sex books out there. As in everything you want to learn in life: practice.

2. With each lover in your life, you begin at zero. Each lover is a different communication where you begin again. You might think you are an accomplished lover, but suddenly you will find yourself fumbling like a teenager.

3. Sex is about communication, both verbal and nonverbal. Communicate to your partner what you like and what you don’t like. Ask your partner the same. Don’t be a selfish lover. Learn how to give pleasure and how to receive pleasure. A great lover is open and sensitive.

4. Masturbating is sex. Good sex. Do it and enjoy it. It relaxes you, gets rid of tension, makes you feel better, keeps you happy. It is another aspect of your sexuality. (Such an ugly sounding word for something so nice, don't you think?)

5. Sex means different things to different people. For some it doesn’t mean all that much. Others obsess about it. For some, sex as the ultimate expression of intimacy and love, for others, it is a physical act of release, nothing more. For some it is recreational, for others it is a religious experience. All these attitudes will change of the tone of your sexual encounters with different lovers in your life. Everyone has different limits and appetites for sex.

6. Nobody is having as much sex as you think they are. Don’t compare yourself to other people’s sex lives.

7. Having sex or not should not affect your self esteem. You are still a sexy man and a sexy woman even if you are not having sex. Don't let other people make you feel bad if you are not having sex.

8. If you’re not having sex, you are still a sexual being. You are still sexy and sensual.

9. You will spend more of your life not having sex than you will having it.

10. Don’t have sex if you don’t want to. Take responsibility. Have principles. Don’t be manipulated by people. Don’t be ruled by your penis or your vagina. You are not a doggy on the street; there are moral decisions to be made. Be the adult and say no if the situation isn’t right.

11. If you have sex with people at work rest assured, it will create problems. I'm not telling you what to do, just the facts. People gossip. You can’t concentrate. Your performance suffers. If things get awkward, you’ll be looking for a new job.

12. Don’t sleep with your best friend’s boy/girlfriend or husband/wife.

13. Be discrete because discretion is sexy. Don’t talk about your sex life or betray intimate secrets of your lovers. Don’t brag about your sex life to your friends. Only insecure people need to boast about their sexual prowess. If their sex is so good, why do they have to talk about it?

14. Sex is powerful. Respect its power.

15. Having sex means you will be hurt by sex. A whole variety of hurts. I won't even bother to catalog them. Just pick yourself up, brush yourself off. Love yourself and know that you are the most lovable, sexiest person alive.

16. Use condoms.

Your sex life (Don't believe movie sex)

2008-04-18T12:26:00.006-05:00

You’re thinking, “Zheesh! The last person I want to get sex advice from is my Mother."

But, me being me, here it is anyway. And, it is actually really nice advice.

I’ll just say this: Sex is for you to discover and enjoy.

And this: What I wish for you is to have a beautiful sexual life.

Sex, like everything in life, is extremely paradoxical and complex. How’s that for an understatement?

Sex is extremely important, and yet, in the grand scheme of things, sex is not important at all.

Society has a false and damaging preoccupation with “having a great sex life.” When you aren’t having sex, it becomes the most important thing in the world. And when you are having sex, you sort of forget about it and take it for granted.

Sex takes on different meanings during your life, ebbing and flowing. Each generation of youth bursts forth into their own sexuality. All young people feel they are inventing sex. And in a sense you are. Because you must each invent a sexual life for yourselves.

Sex is a chameleon, changing colors all the time. Sex can be wonderful, easy, beautiful, spiritual, delicate. But it can also be scary, uncomfortable, embarrassing, weird, mean. Sex can also be disappointing, frustrating and sad.

Society bombards us with the message that sex, and sexuality, is the most important thing in the world. Typically, your first view of sex is in the movies and in books. Novels are filled with detailed sex scenes. The movies show us glistening images of attractive young movie stars with great hair, makeup, pretty, honed bodies having perfect, sensual, lustful sex. They swoon over each other like synchronized swimmers, usually climaxing at the same music filled moment.

This assault of perfection in the movies and in literature does nothing but undermine you. How can you possibly measure up? The problem is, you will think that this is actually what will happen when you finally do have sex. Movie sex is not reality. Imagine, the cameras a few feet away with a crew of onlookers, body doubles stand by, the lovers are acting.

So don’t be surprised if the first time you kiss someone, you don’t feel fireworks. Same with sexual intercourse. Sex is an acquired taste and skill.

Americans tend to separate their sexuality from their persona. Sex is something they “have” or “do.” Europeans and Latin Americans think differently. They believe that your sexuality is your entire being. Your sexuality not just the sex act per se, it is who you are -- the way you act, dress, eat, play, enjoy and live your life.

The lifelong comfort of a French Potage

2008-04-17T10:15:00.006-05:00

One of the nicest things you can do for yourself, or a friend, is make a pot of soup. Soup has the magical power of being able to comfort and inspire.

I first met potage (pronounced poh-tahj) in Paris during my Sweet Briar Junior Year in France. I was thrilled to be living on Gertrude Stein’s street, at 16 rue de Fleurus in the 6th arrondissement, right off the Jardin de Luxembourg. My hostess, an extremely religious spinster, Mademoiselle Ley, served potage to Mary, Chris and me every evening as our first course. We never tired of it. It warmed us and settled our tummies for the meal to come.

The French have been making potage since time began. The beauty of potage is that you make it with whatever vegetables you have around. In lean times, the potage is thin; in good times, it's thick.

Potage will be the “little black dress” of your cooking repertoire. It is elegant and easy. It is sexily delicious and good for you too. It is perfect when you think you have nothing in the house to eat…or when you want to start an elegant dinner party with soup. Girlfriends and boyfriends will look at you with longing eyes. Even children love potage. The flavor is accessible to little palates and the texture is velvet.

Whenever I’m feeling blue, I fill a pot with water and throw in a few vegetables, and suddenly, the world is not such a scary place anymore.

I’ll start you off with quantities and vegetable suggestions, and then just make it with whatever you have in the house, using whatever quantity of water you want. Start tasting and adjusting until you have something you like.

French Potage

8 cups of water
2 potatoes
4 carrots
1 large onion
1 large squash – either a few zucchini or whatever you have (1/2 a butternut; one red pepper…you get the idea!)

Put the water in a large pot to bring to a boil.

Peel whatever veggies need peeling. Chop everything into large chunks. Toss into the pot.

Cover the pot and bring to a low boil. Let simmer until the veggies are really soft. Maybe 30-40 minutes.

When you can stick a fork into the veggies and they are extremely soft, turn off the flame and let everything cool down.

Scoop out some of the veggies and put them in a blender with a little bit of the water and blend to a puree.

Return the puree to the pot. Continue blending until all the veggies are pureed. You want a uniform, smooth soup.

Stir your potage. If the potage is too watery, boil it down a bit. If it is too thick, add some water.

Simmer your lovely potage as you add the seasonings. Again, whatever you have on hand: A tablespoon or two of powdered chicken broth is rather important. Taste and then add salt. A few grinds of pepper. I like to snip some fresh dill and parsley. (But if your kids hate little green stuff floating, then don’t.) You might add a pinch of thyme. A splash of balsamic vinegar to make the flavors sing.

In France, potage is served in a shallow soup bowl. You can serve it alone as a first course. For heartier fare, toss some croutons in or grate some cheese over it. It’s nice served with crusty bread and thinly sliced ham, but my favorite is to accompany potage with a grilled cheese sandwich.

Refinements:

As always, if you sauté the onion in a frying pan before you add it to the water, you will get a deeper flavor.

My daughter Nina likes me to go the extra step and sieve the soup after I puree it to give it an even finer texture.

For a different slant, you can break up a little spaghetti or toss some alphabets into the soup. But then it’s not really potage anymore.

Pass the butter please. On table manners.

2008-04-16T16:16:00.010-05:00

“Tell me what you eat and I will tell you what you are,” said Jean-Anthelme Brillat–Savarin, author of The Physiology of Taste, always on my bookshelf.

I say: “ Show me how you eat and I will tell you who you are.”

Table manners are a microcosm of your life in society. Your behavior at table speaks of your past, of your future, of who you are or wish to be, of where you’ve been, of where you're going. Not to mention that eating with people who have bad table manners can make you lose your appetite.

I work with college students. I always meet my students for the first time at a casual dinner.
After the meal, I know everything I need to know about them. From their table manners.

I see who their parents are and how they have been brought up. I know if they have traveled, whether they are intelligent and sensitive, or vague and without a clue. It begins even with the way the students approach the empty table and how they choose where they want to sit and with whom. Volumes speak to me in how they converse for the first time with new fellow students and with me. I can see much in the way they handle their napkins and their relationship to the objects on the table. I can see their lives in the way they read the menu and address the waiter. I can learn things in the way they look at the food when the plate is placed before them, and how they manipulate their knives, forks, spoons. And finally, how they arrange everything at the end to signal they are finished. And sadly, there are those who, after I have paid the bill, leave without a "thank you."

I learn if they are perceptive, neurotic, demanding impossible. I see if they are wasteful, shy, adventuresome, rude, fearful, picky, gluttonous, happy, sloppy, whatever. It is all there at the table.

One student licks her knife and picks up every crumb off her plate with a wet finger. Another drinks coffee and pokes his eye out with the spoon he insists on leaving in the cup. Yet another student grills the waiter, “Does this dish have cheese? What kind of cheese is it? Is it white or yellow cheese? Is it melted or cold? It is grated or sliced? Is there a lot or a little? Is it high fat or low fat?” Then, upon receiving this diligently queried dish, she inspects it, poking this corner and that with her knife, proclaiming, “I can’t possibly eat this,” and moving the plate aside.

Another student asks, “How much can I eat?” and worse, if there could be such a thing, “How many dollars' worth can I order?”

“Do you ask that when you are out on a date?” I say.

Like it or not, table manners are a barometer of civilization, they are the lubrication of a life in society. We are not cavemen grunting and pointing. Sharing a meal with someone is a daily ritual of social interaction. The ease and delight with which you choose, order, converse, eat, drink and finish can open doors for you, and shut them. Table manners can lose you a date or get you a job.

Many years ago I interviewed in the public affairs department of Exxon Corporation. My appointment began at 11:00 a.m. and after an hour and a half of conversation the Senior Vice President pulled back his chair and said, “Okay then. Let’s go to lunch.”

He took me to an elegant and very expensive Indian restaurant in midtown. I declined a cocktail and spoke to the waiter in quiet, respectful manner. (Never drink on a job interview no matter how confident or relaxed or nervous you are feeling.) I studied the menu with interest and decided to try something new that I had never eaten before. When it arrived, I ate it with delicacy and delight. I was able to make conversation and eat at the same time.

It wasn't because he didn’t want to eat alone that day that he invited me. Our lunch was the final testing ground. Why? Because the job required dealing with high ranking executives and he would not hire someone who could not function smoothly at the table. I passed lunch and I got the job.

Table manners do have to be learned. It is hard work for parents. When I think of the tiresome mealtimes I have had with my children: “Sit up straight. Watch out, your sleeve is in the soup. Move your glass a little further from the edge of the table. Lift the fork up to you, not your head down to the food. Don’t chew with your mouth open. This is how you hold your knife. This is how you put your fork and knife to signal when you are finished. Wipe your mouth before taking a drink. Take sips not glugs. Don’t burp. Don’t stretch at the table. Wait until everyone is finished before asking if you can leave. This is how you cut your meat. Don’t talk to the waiter like that.”

If you think these are all obvious do's and don'ts, believe me, they are not.

Table manners should be as natural as breathing, and not something you have to think about. If you need to freshen up, get yourself one of the many excellent etiquette books out there.

Because if you are at ease at the table, you are at ease in life.

P.S. One of the nicest things Jean Cappello ever said to me was, "Your children have such beautiful table manners."

Life is a voyage

2008-04-15T07:26:00.004-05:00

I feel compelled to write this because you, my darling son and daughter, feel the intensity of your lives and are wondering about having and creating "the right life."

You don't have one life. You have many lives.

You will be a hippie, a conservative, a single person, part of a couple. You will be a student, a worker, a volunteer. You will have a job, be unemployed, start your own business. There will be times when you drink a lot, perhaps, and times when you are against alcohol totally. You will have years when you meditate, eat vegetables and do yoga. Then you will find yourself a rip-roaring steak eater, the more rare the better. You will be a baker, baking your family's daily bread, and then go for years buying your cookies and pies. You will identify yourself as a painter, then stop painting and become a business person or vice versa. You will go through many different styles of life and of clothes. You will be skinny, you will be chubby. You will be happy, you will be depressed. You will have long hair, short, spiky, coloured, permed, curly, straight hair. You will be single, married, divorced, a widower. You might be a parent, a grandparent, an aunt, an uncle, a niece, a nephew, a cousin, a sister, a brother, an in-law, a friend, an enemy, a client, a boss, an employee.

No matter who you are or who you are with, you are always yourself, alone.

Life is an evolution of who you are, of who you become. You are never one thing. Life is a voyage. Flow in each moment, loving each version of yourself, each burning interest of the day. Life is always a quest. Embrace the journey; there is no "arriving." That's what makes life so wonderful. Always something around the bend. Always something to learn, something to strive for.

And if you understand now, that there is always one more person who needs your love and understanding, you will never be lost.

The Good Mother of a Mother

2008-04-14T19:46:00.004-05:00

That's the grandmother, of course.

My German friend, Barbara Asper, was babysitting for her daughter Maya's children, Jana and Juri, while Maya was away at a teacher's conference for four days.

Barbara was reading the list Maya left her, about the kids' schedules, mealtime menus, activities. She looked up at me and said, in a proud and happy voice: "I always do exactly what my daughter tells me to do!"

"Wow," I said. "That's remarkable and generous."

Barbara continued, "Look, I had my chance as a Mother, raising my children as I wanted to. Now, it is my daughter's turn to be a Mother and do exactly what she wants. Besides, my mother-in-law never would do what I asked her to do and that made me so frustrated."

Thank you Barbara! I won't be a grandmother for awhile, but you have saved me from a lot of angst. You have taught me that Grandmothering is not showing your children that you know better than they do about how to raise their children.

The Good Grandmother respects her children's right to raise their children as they want to. Because...it's their turn.

The Three Tenets of Life

2008-04-13T08:15:00.000-05:00

When I was single and lived in Manhattan, my friends and I were obsessed with getting the same three things exactly right in our lives:

A great love. (Soul.)
A great apartment. (Shelter.)
A great job. (Sustenance, Mind & Spirit.)

They are the basic components of happiness: meaningful work, a roof over your head, and someone to share it with. No matter in what country you live, in what time you live, these are the big three.

Getting all three to your satisfaction seemed elusive. In my Manhattan days, we would joke that you could have one, possibly two, but never all three. You might have a great job, but a terrible apartment. You might have a great love, but a terrible job. You might have a terrible job, but a fab apartment.

Hence, my amended three tenets of life are:

You need a roof over your head to find your dream place.
You need a job to get a good job.
You need to have loved (and lost, perhaps) in order to find "the love of your life."

The point being: don't hold out for perfection. Jump into the fray. Start the energy. Get your basics working first and then you can get picky.

When you move to a new city or new country, your first priority is to get a roof over your head. You can't be choosy if you have no place to sleep. Rent a "decent" place for awhile. You don't have to love it. You need to learn the lay of the land. Learn your way around the city, check out the different neighborhods and discover where it is you really want to live. If you arrive to a new place and buy immediatly, you may soon come to dislike your neighborhood or stumble upon another one you like much better. You need time and clarity to find your dream abode and are in no position to see anything when you are desperate for shelter.

Same goes for a job. You need to have a job, in order to get a good job. It is a fact of life that you are more attractive to prospective employers if you are employed by someone else. If you have a job, you are considered employable...someone else hired you after all! It also takes away your desperation. If you have a job and are at least earning money and supporting yourself, you won't jump at any job. You are more discriminating and feer to shop around for what it is you really want. Losing your desperation makes you more attractive.

Ah love. The same thing: losing your desperation makes you more attractive. Learn to live beautifully by yourself and love your life as a single person. Then, bring out what my old college friend Jan Heissinger called, "the shock troops." The shock troops are any old guy or girl who gets you out of the house and into the flow of life. Don't sit home and wait for Mr. or Ms. Right to come along. They don't exist and they won't knock on your door. Jump into that fray again. Go out, be social, practice your social skills. Dating helps you to be casual, helps you to have fun and to meet other people. It takes away your desperate edge.

It is hard to work on all three things at once. A roof over your head is the most important. We are talking basic survival here. Then, you can get a job to pay for this roof. With those two down, you can concentrate on getting a better roof and a better job. And, if you are lucky, in the process of doing the first two, love will find you, instead of you having to look for it!

If you are a houseguest...

2008-04-11T09:32:00.003-05:00

... Be a great one and you’ll be invited back.

Always bring a hostess gift. It doesn’t have to be expensive but you must bring something. Keep it light if you’re traveling by plane. Textiles are always good – lovely kitchen towels, for instance. If weight is not a factor, something the hostess can consume is always appreciated. Beautiful soaps, incense, fancy chocolates, a great book. Remember: how many nights of hotel are you saving by staying with your host?

Take your host(s) out for a meal. Or two or three. Be generous. Pay for the coffee if you’re out strolling together. Offer to dash out and buy the milk if they need it.

Clean up your foot print when you leave – as if you weren’t ever there.

Strip the bed and fold the sheets. It doesn’t matter that they will be put into the wash. It is not a nice “look” to come into a guestroom and see dirty sheets crumpled in a pile. And it is worse to come in the room and see an unmade bed with dirty sheets that need to be stripped. Stripping the bed and folding the sheets shows respect and thoughtfulness.

Empty your bedroom & bathroom trash into a bag and ask where you should deposit it.

Leave the bathroom neat. No hairs in the sink, no bathtub ring.

Hand over the keys before you forget!

Really make a thank you ceremony when you leave, an official moment to acknowledge your hosts and the gratitude you feel towards their generosity.

Invite them to your home. Even if you live in a dorm room, say, “If you ever need a place to stay, I’d be happy to have you.” Because you would!

Send a thank you note.

April 9, 2008

Welcoming the jetlagged traveler to your home

2008-04-11T09:06:00.005-05:00

My friend Sally Bradshaw is a British lyric soprano with a celestial voice. She lives in a charming maisonette in Highbury Park, London and has a medieval country home in Najacs, France. Sally travels the world, singing in festivals, directing operas, teaching singing, recording everything from Handel to Pet Shop Boys.

On my last trip to London, I arrived at Gatwick at 6 a.m. I stood on the immigration/passport control line, waited for my luggage, changed dollars into pounds, bought a train ticket and an Oyster card, rode the train into Victoria Station, got onto the Victoria Line to Sally's tube stop, Highbury Islington, walked through Highbury Fields and finally, rang Sally's bell at 8 a.m.

Sally answered the door in her lovely white flowing nightgown and robe and took me in. Her table was set with a hot, brewing pot of PG Tips and an English breakfast of soft boiled eggs, wholegrain toast, her homemade marmelade and French country butter. It was a balm to my frayed traveler's soul.

So here are some thoughts on how to welcome the jetlagged traveler to your home.

Have the bed already made up for your traveler. Just the sight of it will welcome and soothe. It is unnerving to see your flustered host running around snapping open sheets and hurriedly making a bed. I already feel I've been too much trouble.

Don’t forget to put a folded bath towel and washcloth at the foot of the bed.

By the bed: A set of house keys. A covered pitcher of water and a glass. A local guidebook. A bud vase. A chocolate.

A pot of hot tea waiting when they walk in. Don’t ask, “Would you like a cup of tea?” They’ll invariably say no. Jetlagged travelers are in no position to make any decisions.

Ready options for a warm, light meal. Travelers need comforting after all the nerve jangling. Soup (preferably homemade) is always great to have simmering on the stove. It never overcooks and is always ready. Bread, cheese and fruit to accompany. Or, if they arrive in the morning, a light, fresh breakfast.

After you’ve fed them, invite them to take a nap. They might say no, but they will lie down and fall asleep anyway.

P.S. I told Sally not to get me at the airport because my flight arrived at 5:55 a.m. But, whenever possible, meet your guest at the airport. This is a welcoming gesture that is a huge comfort. And it will be extended to you when you need it most.

Plane Survival

2008-04-11T08:45:00.007-05:00

When airplane travel began, it was expensive and glamorous.

I don’t need to tell you that flying today is mentally and physically exhausting, requiring a survival of the fittest attitude. By the time you squish into your tiny seat on the aircraft, you've traveled to the airport and stood on how many lines? --check in, security, boarding... All necessary for the miracle of air travel, but still. Being prepared is the key to controlling the cramped fatigue and perhaps, turning your flight into an almost pleasant experience.

Food is scarce and getting worse on flights. Being hungry on a plane adds to your general level of misery and/or anxiety. So…

Pack gummies or fruit candy. Gummies are friendly and cheerful, comforting and not messy.

Pack crackers or cookies. I’ve often looked over with envious eyes at people who had thought to bring a little snack on the plane.

When you make your reservation, order the vegetarian meal even if you’re not a vegetarian. For some reason, the airlines pay more attention to the special meals. You get served first, before anyone else and are not waiting for the cart to make its inexorably slow way down the aisle. At that altitude, light food with low salt is what your body can handle, instead of sticky, over salted mush, or sticky, over salted tough stuff. Also, on vegetarian meals they always put fresh fruit or a fruit salad.

Better yet, eat before you get on the plane or bring a wonderful, gourmet sandwich that you bought at your favorite deli or made at home.

Learn about good airport restaurants. Pappadeaux in Houston International has some of the best seafood I’ve eaten anywhere.

Try to sit in the front of the plane. Lower engine noise is somehow less tiring on the mind.

An aisle seat makes it easy for you to get up and move. Very important for long trips. Get up and stretch once each hour so you don’t have heart and leg problems. This is not an “old person’s” problem, it happens to young people too. Swollen ankles are a sign that something is very wrong.
A window seat is good for sleeping on long haul flights. But don’t feel embarrassed about asking your seatmates for a chance to pass through. Continue to get up and walk around.

Planes are always cold. Take your own pashmina. Take cozy airplane socks. Your feet will swell and feel tight if you keep shoes on for long distance flights. An eyeshade really tunes you out of the world. An inflatable pillow is a must. Keeps you from that head dropping with jerk up reaction and the open mouth, which is so attractive.

Drink H2O every time they offer it to you. The pressurized air in the cabins is so dry... it can dry a wet terry cloth towel in half an hour. Dehydration contributes to jet lag and travel malaise.

Planes are rife with germs. Take some Airborne or Vitamin C fizzy tablets and plop one into the water every few hours. Use your hand wipes.

Many happy landings.

Pack light, travel happy.

2008-04-11T07:25:00.006-05:00

I'm just back from Zurich and London, and want to get this down for you post haste! Culled from a lifetime of travel to save you agonizing hours of lugging impossibly heavy suitcases up and down steps, of black and blue knees, of returning home to unpack clothes you never wore once, declaring, “I’ll never pack like this again.”

If you have packed correctly, you should hate all your clothes by the time you get home.

This isn’t about packing to go away for college, or packing for a road trip. This is about packing for touristic travel: the classic two-week trip to Europe. I’m talking airplanes, subways, buses, trams, getting lost wandering long blocks to your hotel. Travel is exhausting enough without having to cart too much stuff around. Also, with all the restrictions on suitcase weight for air travel and the one carry on rule…you’ve got to travel smart.

Suitcase

One great wheelie. On the smaller side.

Two pants: one pair jeans; one pair black pants.
One sweat pants: to sleep in, to exercise in.
One skirt if you're a girl; another pants if you're a guy.
5 undies
3 undershirts or bras
3 pairs socks
1 pair tights (for skirt)
1 nice sweater, preferably black
1 hoodie or a second sweater
2 long sleeve t’s or shirts
3 short sleeve t’s or shirts
3 pairs of shoes: one you wear, the other two you pack. Daily walking (can be joggers); “opera” sneakers (a black shoe that is comfortable, that when paired with your black pants or skirt, you could actually wear to the opera!); Birkies or Crocs: super comfort, to give your feet a rest, to wear around the hotel room or dash down the street to pick up a baguette.

You’re either wearing or you packed your jacket.

Carry On Bag

- Travel umbrella
- Packable raincoat or windbreaker
- Underwear in a baggie
- Teensy flashlight. You have NO idea how this can help you. Fixing a car in the dark of a deserted highway…Signaling someone for help…Reading the phone book to find help…
- Toothbrush
- Tissues
- Lipbalm (airplanes are dry!)
- Airplane needs: travel socks (yes, take your shoes off in the plane), inflatable travel pillow, earphone, eye shades (a must!) Being comfy on a long distance flight is everything.
- Little travel notebook & pen
- Your paperback book. Key to have something to occupy your mind when your plane is sitting on the tarmac for hours.
- Tiny digital camera
- Pashmina. For both men & women. Use as a scarf, a blanket, a pillow, a sarong.
- Granola bars and candy
- Glasses, sunglasses, baseball cap
- Your meds. When you catch a cold on a trip, you want familiar remedies at hand. You know how they work and the proper dosages. Running out to a pharmacy in the middle of the night, when you're running a fever, with bad German, is not an optimum situation.

12 Travel Tips
1. Don’t worry if you forget something – you can always buy it there. Buying abroad is part of the fun.
2. Heaviness matters. Heaviness adds up. Travel size toiletries to get you started. Then, see #1. It’s fun to come home with Swiss toothpaste.
3. Guidebooks are extremely heavy. Copy the pages you need and leave the book at home. Magazines are heavy. Read and shed along the way. Bring a cheap, mass-market paperback to read on the plane and leave behind.
4. Travel makeup: minimal! One lipstick that you use also on cheeks. One balm. One mascara. One powder compact. One eye pencil. See #1. Save the drama and artistry for when you're home.
5. Don’t pack jewelry. Wear “travel jewelry” – which is jewelry that if you lost, you wouldn’t be hysterical. (I wear my Tiffany silver ring, necklace, watch and earrings, and leave the rest in the safe.)
6. Really DO pack an extra set of undies/socks in your carryon bag. Until you’ve been stranded after a 10-hour flight without your luggage, you have no idea how much you will want this. To arrive at a hotel and be able to change into fresh undies is everything.
7. Europe is always colder and rainer than you think it will be. Summer or winter.
8. The carry on rule really is one bag. Your handbag should fit into your carry on. Do you really need a handbag? A small, hands free, cross shoulder bag is good. Laptops are heavy. Don't live on line when you travel. Internet cafes are everywhere.
9. Dollars, pesos, pounds, euros, Swiss francs. In your wallet, carry the currency you currently need. Put everything you're not using in a little flat pouch.
10. Wash your hands all the time. Doctors have said that 95% of travel illnesses can be avoided by washing hands -- after handling money, holding the subway railing, opening doors. Washing your hands before you eat can keep you healthy.
11. Don't take perfume and body lotion. Just take a small bottle of perfumed body lotion. Takes care of two needs at once.
12. Mail it home. If you buy clothing or souvenirs and they don't fit, just mail them home and save yourself the hassle.

The Seth Gopin test. Pick up your packed carry on and suitcase. Walk down the stairs from your bedroom and out of your house, then around the block twice and back upstairs. If you can’t do that with a smile on your face, go back and start over.

Bon Voyage! And send a postcard!

Difficult Decisions

2008-04-10T07:37:00.004-05:00

Sometimes when you need to make a big decision…YOU CAN’T! You are paralyzed with indecision. You think and think, you moan and groan. You ask your friends what they think and every one tells you something different and everything sounds right, and then wrong.

How do you decide the really big stuff when it seems impossible to decide. Should I marry him? Should I leave her? Should I move to Montana simply because I like it there? Should I go to this graduate school or take that job? Not to mention all the serious issues you will be confronted with about health, relationships and money.

Here are some thoughts that have helped me and now, maybe you.

The power of a pencil and paper. Write things down. Make lists. Sometimes the simple fact of committing things to paper can help you to see them more calmly and clearly. Writing things down reduces the question at hand -- to facts, to visual and quantifiable things. Instead of lots of emotions swirling around, you can look at the words in black and white. Write a list of pros and cons. Make a list of your feelings, your fears, your expectations, a list of why and why not’s. Writing things down is such a simple concept that we often overlook because you think, how can this possibly help? But it does. Try it.

Letting go. When a big decision is absolutely paralyzing, sometimes it helps to stop trying to force an answer. Focusing so hard on a problem can make the answer even more elusive. So, stop.

Instead, focus on the details of your daily life, and it is entirely possible that the big answer will float up to you and make itself marvelously clear. Instead of obsessing about the issue at hand, think about what to cook for dinner. What you need to prepare for the meeting tomorrow. About taking your car to be serviced. About what to do this weekend. What to bake for the church sale. Calling the dentist for an appointment. Cutting the grass.

By not focusing so much on the big question at hand, you are giving the answer some space to make itself known. You open your heart to receive the answer. “Of course!” you will suddenly realize as you fold the laundry. “Yes!” you will say as you walk the dog. Letting go so that the decision can float to you is sometimes the only way forward.

Making no decision is sometimes a good decision. It takes the pressure off. Not yes, not no. Not you, not me. Making no decision leaves you open to all options. It gives you the space to see the answer.

Worst Case Scenario. When in doubt, you can always fall back on the model of “worst case scenario” to free you from the fear of making a mistaken decision. Say, “What is the worst thing that will happen if I do this?” Fully understanding the consequences and the worst possible outcome, can free you to take a risk more comfortably.

In the end, there is really no such thing as a mistake in life, just a life well lived with all its twists and turns, ups and downs, and righting yourself as you bobble in the water.

The Most Beautiful Chicken Soup

2008-04-09T09:41:00.006-05:00

Following my advice on How to be Sick. Nicely. is my finely-honed-over-the-years recipe for chicken soup. My kids always ask for this. It comforts them psychologically (Mother's love) and it truly is just the thing to sip when they feel under the weather. We also love it as a Sunday supper soup. If you are Motherless, make it for yourself and you will feel the love. If you have young children, start making it now so they too will have the benefit of your Mother Love for years to come.

What makes this soup so appealing is its pure, bright, gentle flavor. I skim the fat and strain the stock resulting in a clear yellow broth. Tender slivers of chicken, noodles, thin discs of carrots, celery and onion turn it into a classic. Make it for a friend and they'll be forever grateful and kind to you.

Of course there are shortcuts (canned chicken broth, store roasted chicken) but here is the definitive recipe for posterity. First..you catch the chicken, kill the chicken, clean the chicken...Just kidding! People, this is not a lot of work. Three easy steps. Let me talk you through it. Give it a try once and you'll see.

Make the broth
1 chicken
8 cups of water (or enough to cover the chicken)
1 bay leaf
3 peppercorns
1 large clove of garlic (I pan roast the garlic in a cast iron skillet before adding to the pot. It deepens the flavor, but you don't have to do it.)
A toss of salt (a rounded 1/2 tsp is good)

Wash the chicken. Make sure to remove the gizzards, kidney, neck, etc. that may come with the chicken when you buy it.
Put the chicken in a large pot and cover it with water.
Add the bay, peppercorns, garlic, salt.
Cover and bring to a nice boil. Not a furious boil, but a nice boil.
Cook until the chicken is tender and...cooked! About 45 mins. to 1 hour.
Turn off the flame and lift the chicken out of the pot carefully and put on a plate to cool.

When the broth has cooled down a bit, skim the fat. I do this with a special pitcher I bought expressly for this purpose, that separates the fat from the broth, but you can do this with a big soupspoon too, skimming the fat gently off the top.
Next, strain the soup over a strainer into a clean pot. You could even line the strainer with one paper towel if you like. Voila: a gorgeous broth. Now, simmer the broth on a low flame.

While the chicken is cooking

2 carrots
1/2 large onion
2 inside stalks of celery

Slice the carrots & celery into thin and lovely slices
Dice the onion nicely.

Saute the above, gently, in a bit of butter or olive oil. Don't fry, just saute. The vegies should be soft, not dried out. This is a very important step. You don't just throw raw veggies into a broth. You'll see the difference in sauteing them first, in flavor and in the way the veggies will color the soup nicely.

Turning broth into soup

Peel the chicken meat off the chicken. Dice it up into whatever size you like (some like big chunks, some like little) and add to the broth. If you only like white meat, just use the breast meat. Add to the simmering broth.

Add your gently sauteed veggies to the simmering broth.

Add a little bit of pasta. You can break up a little spaghetti, or throw in some alphabets or whatever pasta you have around. Go easy on the quantity. Pasta is very misleading in its ability to grow and absorb the broth. If you add too much, you will have mush. Start with a 1/3 cup of alphabets, for example. You can always add more later, after you see what has happened, if you like more pasta..

Add:
1 tablespoon of powdered chicken broth (Knorr) to give your broth a tad more body.
A splash of balsamic vinegar. This "brightens" the flavor. It will go unnoticed by all, but it is your secret!
Snip some fresh dill into the soup. Or, use powdered dill if you don't have fresh.
Taste for salt. Add more if needed. A few grinds of pepper.
Add more a bit more water if the broth has reduced too much.

Simmer your soup gently until the pasta is cooked.
Serve it piping hot in a bowl with a wedge of fresh lemon to squeeze in at the last minute. This lemon juice is truly your secret ingredient.
Nice with sliced French bread & sweet butter. Or, saltines are nice too.

How to be sick. Nicely.

2008-04-08T10:24:00.009-05:00

I'm not talking catastrophic illness here...just the common cold, strep, flu. Being sick when you are alone -- whether at college, while you're traveling, or living alone--is an art and requires a strategy. There are two general schools of being sick: "Stop the world I want to get off," (that's me) or "It's nothing." The latter is where you ignore it macho style until you get so sick, you are out even longer.

You get sick from germs or virus. However, if you let yourself get run down, your body succumbs more easily. If you are overworked, stressed, under emotional strain, your body's defenses give in. It is as if the soul is saying, Arthur Miller (Death of a Salesman) style, "Attention must be paid."

If you don't treat yourelf nicely when you're sick, no one else will. Maybe there really is no one around and you're truly alone for the long haul. Why not make it as pleasant as you can, instead of adding to your misery. You are a captive audience of one, so do it in style. Here's your chance to become Queen and King for a day.

1. Don't think any deep thoughts or make any major decisions while you are sick. You are weak and feeling perhaps lonely and sad. Depressed even. Life seems overly serious and impossible when you are sick. If you find yourself drawn into existential conversations with your mind, put it on hold and say, Scarlett O'Hara style (Gone with the Wind) "I'll think about it tomorrow."
2. Lay in the supplies and hunker down! Listen to the runny nose, the tickle in your throat, the achiness and the sneezes and trudge post haste to the store as if you're preparing for a snowstorm. Buy the orange juice, the ginger ale, the Campbell's Chicken Noodle or Tomato, the saltines, ice cream, Jell-O, Social Tea biscuits. Get the aspirin, cough syrup, cough drops, cold meds, tissues, lots of them. Buy some magazines; get some books and tapes from the library. Set up your bed with fresh sheets, have a hot shower, get into your favorite PJ's and...be sick!
3. Really do take cold medication. "Oh, it's just a cold," you say. But if you let a seriously stuffy nose continue...you can end up with sinusitis. If you let a bad cough go unchecked...you can get bronchitis. Take the aspirin or Tylenol for fever, aches and pains.
4. Nyquil (or the night time versions of cold meds) is your best friend at night. A good night's sleep is where healing happens.
5. Really do drink lots of liquids. The doctors always say that, but it is TRUE! It flushes out your system, it seems to cool and hydrate you. You do not want to get dehydrated.
6. If your fever persists for more than 3 days, and your symptoms don't start to get better within 5 days...GO TO THE DOCTOR.
7. Call your friends and tell them you are sick. Someone needs to know you are sick so you feel less alone. You will feel better knowing there is someone worrying about you, caring about you. Don't be so stoic.
8. Declare yourself an official lump. Catch up on all your sleep. Watch all the daytime TV you want. Cruise the Internet. Listen to talk radio. Read books and magazines. Make phone calls. There are lots of bed bound activities : Pay bills, make Christmas lists, writer letters, shop from catalogs.
9. Pretend this is a spa vacation. Use your illness as a mental retreat from the world. A break in routine. View being sick as a meditative activity. Empty your mind.
10. At a certain point in your illness, it helps to take a short, hot shower. Wash your hair if you can. Dry it right away. Put on fresh PJ's. Change your sheets. Feeling grungy and sticky doesn't add to the experience.
11. Think you are recovered? Spend one more day at home. Going back to school or work too soon can give you a relapse and take more days away from your life. Of course, you won't believe this until you're headed back to school or work too soon and have landed back in bed...but you heard it here.
12. The Hot Toddy! Oh those cozy English...they really know how to feel better. A mug of boiling water, a splash of whiskey, a stir of honey, a squeeze of lemon. It's magical.
13. Vin Chaud! The French version. Heat a cup of red wine, a stir of honey, a squish of lemon, a cinnamon stick.
14. Be nice to others when they are sick. Bring your friends whatever they need and whatever they don't. Don't wait to be asked. Jump at the chance to shop for them. (They didn't have all this good advice like you do.) Phone them daily and ask their progress and...listen to it. A phone call from someone who cares is a tremendous gift.
15. Thank your body. Appreciate your body. It works 24 hours a day for your entire lifetime. Be aware of how you take your health for granted and what a precious gift your health is.
16. A side benefit of being sick? The easiest, natural cleansing diet. You're drinking lots of liquids, giving your tummy a rest. When you're well, you'll have lost a few pounds!
17. Call Mother. Mom is who you want when you're sick, even if you don't think so. She'll coo over you and tell you how to take care of yourself even though you schluff off her comments. You will feel a lot better after that phone call.

If you are the macho type who goes to work with the flu, you don't need my advice. You're macho, remember? You can tough it out on your own.

Nina and me.

2008-04-07T10:13:00.004-05:00

It's Nina's turn.

Pablo had my full attention for two years before his sister Nina was born.

With Pablo going to college, things have come full circle. Now I will have an amazing two years of exclusive time with my smart, talented, funny, beautiful daughter Nina.

Nina, as second child, feels she has always gotten the short end of everything.

I also felt the same way, because I too, was the second child, the sister of an older brother. But of course, now as an adult, I know differently: Mother loved both Buzz and me equally but in different ways, as mothers do with sons and daughters.

The minute my brother left home for college, I was the queen of the house, the supreme, reigning, ten times cooler teenager. I was no longer compared to Buzz in any way -- and I came into my own, changing in ways I could not have imagined.

This is Nina's special time and a blessed gift for me. Already we are planning our bohemian girly life, mother and daughter friends, how we will eat veggies, do yoga and bike together, take an evening stroll for sorbet. For the first and only time in her life, she will have all of me.

Here's to you, Nina!

Pablo is going to college!

2008-04-07T08:03:00.006-05:00

"When you go to college..." It's a phrase you say to your child all his/her life, staring from the day they are born. It's a cliche, it's a dream, it's far off into some unknown future. You want it for your child, but are thankful the day will never come.

It came. It's now.

My baby boy, my first born, Pablo, IS going to college. Grinnell College. Class of 2012. He's not only leaving home, but he's leaving the country. His presence in my life will never be the same again. When he returns home, it will be as a visitor.

Tears well at odd moments of the day. I know there is nothing more for him, right now, in Yucatan, at our home. He needs to become who he is, away from me, on his own in the world. It is the end of a certain kind of Mothering -- the delight of the day to day intimacy, of my eyes loving my child, of being able to call his name and knowing he will answer.

The only thing that soothes me is knowing how happy he will be. Campus life is wonderful. College is a beautiful bubble: You're on your own and not paying for it. My college years were a treasure of discovery and delights and I know they will be for him as well.

"The empty nest." A cliche and also a real issue to resolve, as all parents do. I am left to contemplate Pablo's empty room and my reinvention as a Mother of an adult "child." It will never be the same again. Something big is over -- for both of us.

I cry in private. To him I show my proud and happy face. I am proud and happy for him. We must let each other go. He will only understand how much it hurts when he lets his own child go. In some distant future.

Right now though, the world is his, and he wants at it.

Godspeed my darling.

Welcome to my world!

2008-04-01T14:38:00.006-06:00

There are lots of self help books out there, covering every subject in exhaustive detail, and countless professionals who are only too eager to help you through life's difficulties for a handsome fee. But The Portable Mother is something different. It is about what I call Motherlove or Momism: the unique feeling that only a Mother can provide. This is not the best advice, nor the only advice, it is a Mother's advice.

I was 55 when my Mother passed away. I was lucky enough to have known her for so many years. But when she died, I realized I did not know her at all! I only knew my Mother as, my Mother. By the time I was born...she had lived so much of her life that I would never know about. Wait, I thought, come back.

It was only then that I "got" it: you only really understand that you don't know your Mother, after she has died. And the perplexing corollary to that: you understand your Mother only after she has died.

Regardless of our relationship with our Mothers (good, bad, indifferent), we all need a Mother sometimes...because being an adult is hard and downright scary.

My friend, the poet Anne Carson writes me: "Parents giving advice to their children is an age-old form of letters. In the classic tradition it is called "wisdom literature." In West's edition of Hesiod's "Works and Days" he summarises precedents in Sumerian, Akkadian, Ireland, India, Greece and Rome. The usual form is that a father instructs his son or a sage instructs a future king; Hesiod, however, instructs his brother, Perses. Three Roman authors who wrote works to help their children are Cato: De agri cultura, On Farming; Cicero, who wrote De officiis, On Public service; and Macrobius, Somnium Scipionis, Scipio's dream."

Parents trying to teach their children about life brings to mind the inherent difficulty of age trying to talk to youth. Carolyn Heilbrun wrote: "There are few old people who have not wished to tie a young person down, hand and foot, and tell her or him the truth about life. Unfortunately, the young person will not listen, and the old person will inevitably come across as, at best, a tedious bore."

Raising a child is a gift, an enterprise, an adventure. It is a soul business.
So here we go.