History of Holiday Hurts

From the time I can remember, the holidays have been rough. My parents got divorced when I was 2 years old, and there was no greater time of parental struggles than during the holidays. The struggles were always over where the kids would go for Christmas, and when they would arrive. And no matter what, we were always delivered to one parent or another LATER than agreed upon, which always caused someone to be angry, hurt, and disappointed. This was the case for my entire childhood, year after year. No matter which parent I was with, I felt I was letting the other parent down, hurting them by not being there. (Even though, of course, none of this was my fault...)

Once I met my husband, he pointed out that this pattern was still going on, even in my adult years. In fact, he made a list entitled "The History of Holiday Hurts." Every year, he would write onto the list what the annual "hurt" was. The list is very full now, mostly of complaints made by each of my parents. My father never gets enough attention for the gifts he gives. My mother never feels we spend enough time with her. Hurt, hurt, hurt....waah, waah, waah...

Now that we have THE LIST, I can really see what I have done wrong...Nothing! My parents just act like little babies at this time of year, and apparently this has been the case since I was a toddler.

So, this year, we spent the holidays at home with our children and our friends--and did not invite my mom or dad. Sure, my parents were hurt by this, but at least I only had to deal with the occasional whining of my young boys (who are at an age where whining is EXPECTED)! I felt a lot of my own angst about this decision, but I don't think my kids could tell, since they had an awesome time!

Sorry, Mom and Dad, if this hurt you again. But I am trying to stay focused on your grandchildren so that the holidays don't fill them with anxiety and guilt when they're parents themselves.

(note: my parents don't actually read this blog.)

8 Minutes

I have 8 minutes before the sitter leaves. What shall I do with this time?

I could-

Do some work or
Update my website or
Wrap presents or
Think or
Fix the broken towel-holder in the bathroom or
Look up holiday recipes or
Put away my shoes or
Clean off my desk or
Eat or
Start printing 2 years' worth of photos or
Reply to e-mails or
Return phone calls or
Cancel tomorrow's dentist appointment or
Put away groceries or
Plan for my workshop or
Internet shop for diapers or
Balance my checkbook or
Make a to-do list or
Start the next grocery list or
Breathe or
Sit or
Pee...
Maybe I'll multitask and do these last 3 at once...oh, no...too late. Time's up.

Rock-a-Bye

Have you ever thought about the lyrics to "rock-a-bye baby?"

My toddler, Tot-Tot, has recently been asking me to sing "rock-a-bye baby" to him. I sing it, changing the lyrics from "down will come baby" to "mommy will catch you." Of course, I KNOW that this defeats the whole purpose of the song, which, in my shrink-ish opinion, is to serve as an outlet for maternal aggression. ("All your crying makes me want to throw you from a tree! But I can't, so I'll sing you this sweet-angry song instead," for example...) But, I don't feel particularly aggressive toward my toddler (since now he sleeps all night!), and I don't want to make him scared of falling objects, and I don't want to answer the million questions about how the baby got in the tree, and why he had to fall...so I change the lyrics.

But, now my son has adapted the lyrics even further. He asks me to sing that I am the one up in the tree, that I must fall, and that HE will catch ME.

Touche, Tot-Tot, touche!

Parent Squeeze

Our society is rough on new families. Really, really rough. What is expected seems impossible: bring in money, run a home, care for small, dependent, children (who are prone to self-injurious behaviors), manage cars, toys, clothes, and shoes, keep everyone fed and cleaned...the list goes on and on. And, in this fast-paced, race, race, race world, how are parents supposed to be able to do all of this...and also raise the next generation to be smart, happy, and well-attached? Especially when many of us parents-of-young-children have little or no family support nearby to help. After 5-1/2 years of motherhood, I cannot figure this out. It is unsolvable.

In my psychology practice, I treat a number of parents of this generation...and I hear this story over and over again. How can a mom work full-time, bring home the majority of the family's income, feed everyone, clean the house, AND get to spend time with her child? There is not enough time. There is not enough emotional space. Moms like this get no time for their own self-care. How can a father work full-time, deal with the pressures and demands of a job while supporting his family financially, and also be able to be home in time to relieve his burned-out, exhausted, stay-home wife...and be available to spend time with his children? And how can the couple, the parents, find time to connect with each other so that their marriage stays strong? Really, these are impossibilities. Yet, with lots of planning and strategizing, these parents manage to scrape by, often by lowering their standards in one of these areas. It's the only way.

You have no idea how much I wish I could solve these problems. But it is impossible. In a society where everyone is spread thin, disconnected, and life pressures and demands are enormous, parents often suffer. I know that some families have it easier than other families (when they have adequate social supports), but for the most part, I think our society has failed in this area. Where are our priorities? Help parents help their children! Come ON!!!

In Sweden, new mothers and fathers are BOTH entitled to a year of leave when a child is born. My understanding is that this is paid for with government (tax) money. In this way, the entire society has said that it values new parents and values the work they are doing to bring up the next generation. It will support them however possible. Our society seems short-sighted...will it ever change?

If you have any thoughts or strategies that have worked for you...please share them with me! I would love to hear how you're managing this selfless phase-of-life.

Averting My Eyes

Motherhood has taught me a lot of things about myself. For example, before having children, I didn't fully realize that I am a closet perfectionist. And, yes, I know that "closet perfectionist" is a double-entendre (a word/phrase with more than one meaning). So, I am a closet perfectionist because (1) my closets must be perfect and (2) I tend to not let other people know that I am a perfectionist. I didn't really have to face my own perfectionism until children came along...and...DESTROYED EVERYTHING that I was so perfectionistic about.

I have also realized that my perfectionism often manifests itself in compulsive organizing. I really, really, REALLY love it when everything has its own place, and when things are put back where they go. I RELY on being organized during crazy, stressed-out times, so that I can find what I need, when I need it.

[I'm sure you know where this is leading...]

We all know that there is no crazier, more stressed-out phase-of-life than the transition-to-parenthood. This is a time when I have needed my own organizational systems more than ever before...and, yet, since having children, my urge to organize has been the source of deep frustration for me. I have, by some miracle, found time here-and-there to create would-be effective organizational systems...like toy bins with labels, so that the kids and their babysitters can put the proper toys back in the proper bins. But, really, do you think this actually happens? (Can I get a resounding "HELL NO!"??) I have organized our mud room, kitchen cabinets, laundry room, kids closets (of course!), etc etc etc. And nothing stays put. I can never find what I need. I live in a constantly migrating house.

So, I have a new method for dealing with this problem. In order to keep myself from freaking out, crying, or flying-off-the-handle--I AVERT MY EYES. Or I shut a door. Or I make the conscious decision to not THINK about the mess-that-was-once-organized. (Really, this could make me cry. Is that insane or what?)

Because if you are like me, and you need some help with raising your kids (while you work, or even work out), and running your house...then you know that HAVING HELP = RELINQUISHING CONTROL. This is so hard for me. I want the help, but I also want other people to think and do what I would think and do...and, well, it just doesn't work like that.

And, all of this really just makes me hate the stupid Pottery Barn catalog even more. (That post is coming soon.)

How Many No's Does it Take to Equal NO! ?

My older son has stopped listening to me and GEH. It's as if he doesn't hear us at all. He starts doing something dangerous. We tell him to stop. He continues. We pester him. He continues. We nag...until we eventually have to physically interrupt whatever he is doing to get his attention. (Then he often cries and flees the room.)

What is UP with this? I did not think that age 5 would be such a challenge...I feel like he is already in the midst of some teenage-angst-ridden rebellion...ignoring, ignoring, ignoring us...and I am suddenly thrust into the role of the relentlessly nagging annoying mother who just can't let it go....

And the non-listening also happens when we go out. For instance, I took him to Target (aka, China) today to get (lead-ridden) exterior holiday lights. And, of course, he wanted everything. And, of course, I told him "no."

I remember a woman I used to babysit for advising me about being sure to routinely tell my kids "no." If I don't tell them "no" she said, they will not be able to tolerate hearing "no"...and will turn into the kind of kids no one wants to be around. So, I say this word A LOT! I mean, like, over and over and over again:

"No, you can't."
"No, not now."
"No means no!"

And, still, my kid pesters me. I mean, is he just an innocent victim of consumerism? (But this goes on even at home, when he relentlessly demands his own way.) Or does he need a hearing test? (His doctor says his hearing is on par for his age.) Because, I swear, he asks and asks and asks for things, and I repeat "no" each time. And this has. gone. on. for. YEARS.

Is it me? Is my "no" just not convincing enough? Have we coddled him too much in other ways? Do the poor starving kids in third world countries have this problem?

Ugh. Next week, I'll tell you about the whining...

Drowning in Riches

Lately I have been overwhelmed by life. I've had an ongoing sinus headache for TWO (freakin') months--don't worry, I'm seeing my doctor--my psychology practice is really busy, my husband has been traveling for work, and I am still trying to be a (semi) stay-home mom...which means taking care of children, drop-offs and pick-ups, arranging babysitters, grocery shopping (don't EVEN get me started on the f'ing grocery shopping!), and feeding feeding feeding a family of 4. Really, in my attempt to "have it all", I am just overwhelmed.

I talk to my own therapist a lot about this, and her sense is that what I am complaining about could be re-conceptualized as an "abundance of riches." And, you know what? She is right. My life is full of REALLY good stuff (with the exception of the headache...). I have a healthy, happy family, a house, cars that work, money to buy food, and the ability to work part-time and also take care of my kids. So, what the hell am I bitching about? I guess that having this great ABUNDANCE of riches still overwhelms me, since I tend to go into a frenzy of trying to do everything just right. But, I guess I could swap it all for an abundance of crap...and then I'd be really screwed.

Sometimes, re-conceptualizing things is a good idea.

Rush, Rush

I imagine you've noticed how rude people can be driving their cars...zooming in front of you, cutting you off, not waiting their turn (GEH calls those "opportunists!"). On days when I am calm enough myself, I like to watch these patterns. It has been striking me lately that pretty much everyone is a narcissist when they drive (at least in my neighborhood). It's as though no one else's needs matter to the driver who ignores the stop sign to get in front of you. There's no empathy when someone tries to rush past you and nearly clips the back of your car. And...why is that?

Here's my theory. I think that our world is moving too fast, and everyone is, literally, speeding out of control. I imagine that the dude in the pick-up truck who almost runs me down is hurrying because he's late to work because he was up half the night with his newborn and overslept... and now doesn't want to lose his job. The woman in the zippy convertible who's on her cell phone trying to find a babysitter is too distracted to connect with the world around her. In a world where everyone wants everything instantaneously (if not YESTERDAY), we don't stand a chance at empathy. There is just too much pressure on everyone. And we're all victims here...I know I often feel like my own world is speeding out of control. I mean, when I am the asshole driver, I certainly have GOOD REASON!

With our cell phones, and text messages, and e-mail, and instant messages, and twitter and our endless so-called "connectedness" (more on that in a future blog), we have no time to ourselves. No time to breathe, slow down, or think. Maybe it's this phase of life, but I feel constant pressure to be 100 places at once...and this really makes it hard to imagine life from someone else's perspective. It turns me, temporarily, into a narcissist on the road.

The one thing that I think saves me (and hopefully you) from rush rush rushing so fast that I wind up in an early grave is, ironically, the very thing that makes me rush in the first place: motherhood. Even though I am always hurrying for drop-offs and pick-ups and babysitter curfews, it is my children who put things back into perspective. I swear, my sons are little zen masters! They are always IN THE MOMENT. I tend to be in the future, but they bring me back to right-here, right-now. There's no escaping the pull, either...if you are with them, there is no choice but to just BE WITH THEM. And, I am thankful for this. It's a real gift I get...to slow down and connect, instead of rushing right through their childhood.

I hope the other drivers out there have kids to go home to...so they can take a moment to slow down and realize that the man-made pressures of the world are, frankly, crap. This is honestly something I think about in my car, trying resist social-pressure-induced narcissism...

Salad Haiku

Cool, crisp leafy greens-
now I, with kids, miss you. You
take too long to eat.

Peeping Mom

I don't know if this would classify as a diagnosable mental disorder, or if it is even a problem, but I have to tell you that I am a peeping mom. You might have seen me occasionally peeking into your car window, or glancing in your open front door. But don't freak out. I am just checking to see if your car is covered in toys, cheerios, juice, crumbs, mud, wipes, and more toys. And I just want to know if your house has big huge piles of crap where organization once was. When I see that your car and your house are a chaotic, disorganized mess...I feel a wave of relief that I am not alone, a sense of deep cosmic connection, and a reassurance that nothing is really wrong with me...well, except for this peeping compulsion.

Can you get tutoring for "mom brain"?

I recently agreed to run a panel discussion for a psychology symposium, as the panel's discussant. Sounds easy, right? Stand up, introduce the panelists, give a brief description of what everyone is here to talk about, then sit down...

But, actually, there is WORK involved. And I can't keep up with it. I get e-mails telling me what I need to do, including writing my bio, seminar learning goals, etc, and I can't seem to get it done...actually, I can't even remember the BASIC INSTRUCTIONS that I need to follow...you know, like how many goals to write, and when this is all due. WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO MY BRAIN? My capacity for concentration and attention to detail is utterly shot. I would want it back, too, if I could think about it for long enough.

I was encouraged by an article I read last year about motherhood improving cognitive skills, you know, from all the MULTITASKING we do. The main study cited in the article looked at rat mommies and noted that they were able to do about a zillion little rat things while caring for their pups (compared to their male counterparts). **NOTE: Are you noticing how decidedly unscientific this description is? And I have a Ph.D. HA!!** Maybe my brain is somehow stronger now...but I can tell you, it is not functioning properly!

I think someone should start a business of working for moms as their auxiliary brains. For example, this person could follow a mom around, making notes of what needs to be done, posting reminders and regularly whispering in her ear "don't forget the wet clothes need to go into the dryer" or "you should be doing your work and not writing your blog"...or, what the hell, maybe they should just do it for her! Who are these lazy, pestering jerks anyhow?!?

Oy. I need a drink. Speaking of drinks...Did I mention that I quit drinking coffee? It was giving me severe blood sugar crashes. :( Maybe this is my problem lately. Maybe those rodent mommies did so well in their multitasking because they got to drink coffee.

Here's my new hypothesis:

Mom Brain (minus) stimulants = severe cognitive decline

I'd research this myself, but, well...wait...what was I saying?

Gross

Yesterday, something was awry at kindergarten pick-up. I showed up, parked Tot-Tot outside in his stroller, and ran in to get Big Boy. He was sitting at a corner table looking distressed. He came out walking in a very awkward, stiff way, looking sheepish. I asked "is something wrong" and he mumbled, "I'll tell you at home." Then I smelled him...Ew. Gross.

I asked "did you make a poo-poo in your pants?" Looking VERY sad and humiliated, he admitted that he had. He'd apparently been playing on the playground and couldn't make it in on time. I quickly retrieved the tot, who was waiting just outside, grabbed the bag of emergency clothes I'd left at school, and we made a beeline for the kindergarten potty. After a (stinky) clothes-changing ordeal (that I'd rather forget), he was fresh and clean again, and ready to run outside.

Once we got home, the kids played together and Big Boy was in a fine mood. It was great to have solved the (smelly) problem, but I was left with another dilemma...What do I do with this gross, nasty underwear? Do I throw it out? No--I can't do that! It's from the Gap!! Do I WASH it? Ew. Gross. Who wants to do that? Finally, I decided to dump it in a bucket w/detergent and soak it overnight.

But, then, you still gotta wash it somehow...



...and then you gotta wash everything it touched...



And...ew, gross.

But, you know, I have to admit that (in addition to being thoroughly repulsed by this job) I actually felt proud of myself for taking such good care of my little Big Boy. I somehow managed to not feel angry or upset with him, I reassured him, and got him through his moment of humiliation...helping him to emerge with restored self-esteem.

And, to think...he was going to wait to tell me until we got home...you know, after RIDING in my CAR. (ew. gross.)

Dirty Mommy

For the first several years of motherhood, my appearance was very important to me. Maybe it was a holdover from my working-woman self, but every morning, I showered and blow-dried my hair. Every. Morning. Without. Fail. I never even thought there was another way to be. I never really thought about how my appearance looked to other moms...It was just a compulsion to be "put together" before I left the house. But, for the past several months, I haven't had the time to shower and blow-dry my hair each and every (freakin') morning. I started going to the gym on days I don't work, so now, I don't want to shower first. I want to go get stinky dirty grimy sweaty before I bother taking a shower. This means I often leave the house with baggy frumpy not-cute gym clothes on, my greasy hair covered by a hat. And...I have to tell you, I have made a lot more friends and acquaintances in my nasty-dirty state than I ever did when I was clean-and-fresh. It's funny. Apparently there's nothing like a hat and greasy hair to even the playing field, to show the world that you're right there with them, trying to fit it all in...

Maternal Happiness is...

-my boys laughing together
-GEH walking in the door at dinnertime
-getting the chance to miss my kids
-the sun coming out just when it looks like rain (and it's time for school pick-up)
-childhood excitement about pumpkin season
-glimpses of the brother bond
-hearing GEH's voice reading bedtime stories
-working enough hours to be sane
-greeting a happy child after a day at school
-a bag full of library books
-a trustworthy babysitter
-a trustworthy babysitter WHO DOES THE DISHES!
-children sleeping past 6am
-knowing that your children are thriving, even when you're apart
-getting the chance to contribute 2 great (feminist!) men to the world
:)

Confession

You may as well know that I am not close with my mother. Since she's unlikely to find this blog, I can be pretty honest about this. My mom and I don't talk very often and, when we do talk, it's mostly me trying to get off of the phone. But, even though I am often the one trying to flee the relationship, I am still really mad that I am not closer to her. Of course, I have lots and lots of good reasons for keeping her at an arm's length (it became clear that this was necessary when my kids were born, for their well-being...you'll just have to take my word for it). But still...I yearn for what so many other moms have, which I won't ever have: a mother to nurture me while I nurture my kids. I think about this a lot on days like today.

We drove yesterday to visit my in-laws for Rosh Hashanah. It's a long trip both ways, especially when you factor in toddler whining and crying and kindergartner demandingness. So, today we were exhausted; but still, there were the usual chores to do...I spent the entire day doing chores, running errands, and cooking for the next week. And, in the midst of all of this, I felt like crying out of self-pity. I am so tired of giving and care-taking, and I want a little pay back. GEH gives me what he can, but he is tired, too, from all the giving and care-taking he's doing on his end. And, anyhow, what I need can't just come from him. I need the support of another woman. I joke that I need a wife, but, really, I need a mother: one whom I can rely on, who nurtures, who cooks, who listens, and who knows, loves, and plays with my kids (they need this, too).

I barely ever let myself consider what motherhood would be like if I were close to my mom. The vision is just too far from reality...it's like looking at the sun--if I do it for more than a second it becomes hot, blinding, and painful.

So, there. Now you know.

Family Stretch Marks?

GEH and I spent a lot of time planning this year's school schedule. We live in an urban area, and decided to use private schools for our kids. This meant that we couldn't just enroll our older son in kindergarten, but we had to apply for him to be admitted. We strategized. We applied. Big Boy got in. We changed him to the new school last week, and he is thriving. Kindergarten: check.

We also noticed that our 2 1/2 year old seemed bored at home, so we decided to enroll him in a little preschool 2 days per week. We chose a school that has a great program and is near Big Boy's school. We also had to apply, and he was also accepted. But, in this case, little Tot Tot, it turns out, does NOT seem to be a fan of school. (At least not yet.) The first week, he cried at drop-off, he cried at reunion, and he cried if you said the word "school." He told us all weekend (between tantrums) that he doesn't want to go back to school, and that he wants to know why kids have to cry at school. (So sad, little tot!) He has been really trying to understand the concept of being left somewhere without one of his main people (parents, sitter, big brother), since this has never happened before. He asked us over-and-over "why do daddies bring you to school, play with you, and then they have to go to work???"

So, we were left with the sense that we'd made the wrong choice to send him to school. He's young after all, and he is fine at home with a babysitter. It is easier for mama, too, to not have to go get him early so that he won't cry ALL day...But, then, we heard little Tot singing a new "clean up" song when he was putting his toys away. (What? Putting his toys away?!?! When did this happen?)

And it struck me that this kid is going to be Ok. He will adapt. He is more resilient than we think he is, and now is a chance for him to stretch himself to learn how to be in a new (safe and secure) environment. If we bail out, we miss our chance for him to (1) learn, (2) have fun, and (3) use his own skills to manage something new. When I picked him up early on his first day of preschool, for example, I found him rubbing the little crevice above his upper lip, which is what he does when he needs to soothe himself. At first, I felt sad, like "oh-no, he's so stressed that he's rubbing his lip"...but then I corrected myself, thinking "wait--but thank GOD he has that little trick and knows how to use it!"

This week's school experience was a little better...less crying at school and at home, fewer why-questions about going to school, and less overall resistence. Maybe by next week he'll be even more acclimated, and will start to have the fun we promised him! I feel proud of the little guy for starting to work out this big change for himself, and I feel proud of us for trusting him.

Calm in the Storm

This morning, we made a last-minute decision to take the boys shopping for fall clothes. Even though other parents might have thought it was an early start (10:45am), by the time we arrived I was already afraid that we were too late and our poor planning was going to cost our toddler his beloved afternoon nap. The day was a blur of visiting the potty, snacking, diaper changing, toddler-chasing, getting lunch, toddler-soothing, and returning to the potty. We were there for about 3 hours, 30 minutes of which were spent shopping. And, of course, we screwed up our toddler's nap.

These are the times when I get the most stressed about parenthood. I want to make sure that everyone's needs are met...the kindergartener's, the toddler's, GEH's, and, finally, mine. When I lose track of time, or when I feel unorganized and scattered (which is often!), I just start hating this phase of life. I think I can't do it...I can't get things right for everyone...someone is hungry, someone always has to use the potty, someone is tired or frustrated. I feel frazzled trying to keep everyone comfortable, and then I usually realize that I am frustrated, tired, starving and haven't peed for hours myself...

But in spite of all my stress, my kids love these outings. If the toddler doesn't nap, his behavior may be erratic (and sometimes intolerable), but he will go to bed early. He spends most of his days at home, so these outings are, to him, a valuable change of pace. And the kindergartener thinks shopping is the best activity ever. He loves trying to convince me of why he must have every item in every store... (And making up reasons why is probalby the most strenuous cognitive exercise I get!)

I wish I could relax and enjoy the day...and just know that in the end, it will all be fine. I write this as my kids are sleeping soundly, in spite of the loud thunderstorm outside. Maybe I could learn something from this moment...It may be storming outside, but, really, things are safe and calm inside.

Here Comes the Fall

My older son is starting Kindergarten in 2 weeks. My toddler is starting 2 days of preschool in 2 weeks. They are starting on the same day...each one in a new school, each one with his own excitement mixed with separation anxiety. The schools are just one block away from each other, and they have the exact same spring breaks. In each of these schools will be my boys, each entering a new phase-of-life, each growing more independent by the day.

I have spent the last 2 weeks trying to arrange school drop-offs and pick-ups, combined with childcare for when they're not in school, combined with my (somewhat flexible) work schedule, combined with GEH's schedule...in short, I have been coordinating 5 schedules for the fall. And I am mentally exhausted.

I have spent the last few days suddenly realizing that times are changing. My boys are growing, developing, reaching new milestones. With their growth and development comes more freedom for me (yay) but more distance from them (oh, no!). I don't know how I will manage all of these schedules logistically, but, more importantly, I don't know how I will manage the changes emotionally. For years, all I wanted was my freedom back...now it is closer, and I want my babies back (or do I?).

Don't Be Perfect

I became a mother over 5 years ago. My first son was a screamer. He cried nonstop for, oh, about 4 months... As a new mom of an unsoothable baby, I could not understand why no one had told me how much motherhood sucked. (It wasn't until I had my second child that I realized that all babies did not scream like he did!)

Even though his colic/reflux only lasted a few months, I still feel how it has impacted my mothering. It is psychological torture to be unable to soothe your baby. I responded to my sense of utter inadequacy by trying to do things just right. I quit working to stay home with him. I made sure he napped and ate on schedule. We had the same routine every night. In short, my striving to be a perfect mother made me miserable.

In psychology grad school, I had read Winicott, and knew about the concept of the "good-enough mother." It took me years, though, to finally appreciate WHY being good-enough is far, far better than being perfect. Here's a quote from Winicott:

"The good-enough mother...starts off with an almost complete adaptation to her infant's needs, and as time proceeds she adapts less and less completely, gradually, according to the infant's growing ability to deal with her failure" (Winnicott, 1953)

I think that I've gotten a lot better at failing as a mother. It's not always a great feeling, failure, but the more I do it, the more my children learn to adapt to it. If I were to keep striving for perfection, I would still be miserable, and my children would have no sense about some of life's realities: disappointment, delayed gratification, separation, annoyance...

But, as you will see in reading this blog, I struggle CONSTANTLY with my desire to be perfect, to have it all. I guess this is one of the main problems faced by modern-day mothers. I have a lot to say about that...and I will in blogs to come.