The best of both seasons

The kids went back to school today, making it official: summer's over.

Time to show the sunny months -- with their adventure, freedom and weekends that start Friday at 3 -- the door. And as they walk out, you stand up a little straighter, pat your hair into place and look the back-to-business months of fall square in the eye. Sigh good-naturedly. Invite them in to set up shop in your favorite chair. Ask what they need, and then go get it. You know it's time.

In reflecting on this changing of the seasonal guard today -- as I catalogued our summer activities, wondered where two-plus months went, and felt a little shell-shocked by how dramatically one day can change the communal zeitgeist -- I wondered how the two sides of us - Summer Us and Fall Us - might mix. The best parts of both, working together to make us adventurous, free of spirit AND productive. As we move into the comforting routines of September, whether it be at work, in school, or at home, how do we hang on to the special joy of summer, with dinners on the patio and kids playing until after dark, while also enjoying the autumnal satisfaction of a misty day spent ticking off boxes on the meaty to-do list we neglected for three months?

I for one will try, as an experiment. How? Perhaps by injecting a little more spontaneity into the predictable structures that school-time brings our family. Maybe skip a school event and head to the beach for some storm-watching and indoor s'mores making. Maybe it's a November trip to a yurt. Or splurging on fresh berries in October. Or maybe it's just an attitude, reflected in subtle ways: A bright color worn on a dark day. A dinner revolving around fresh herbs and good tomatoes for as long as one can get them. A willingness to let the kids stay up late one night, even though we'll all be wrecks the next day.

The point isn't to deny the seasonal rhythms our ancestral beings need. Nor is it to eschew the renewed focus on the practical, the predictable, the work of life that we all seem to aspire to in fall. It's about acknowledging that, like old friends, maybe you don't need to shut one out in order to enjoy the other. And in mixing them, you may find some pleasant surprises.

Country Song for Spring

Country music always reminds me of being on the road. I found this song I wrote in my early 30s (which, was, um, not too long ago). I always like country music in the spring, and maybe this song will make a few of you smile. I find the message to take charge of what you want is always a good, fun reminder for me. And if you have any Dixie Chicks connections please pass it along.

I’m Writing Your Love Song to Me
Copyright 2000 by Sarah Pagliasotti

You say that you love me but you can’t let it out,
You just can’t express how you feel,
Well, I need to hear something -
I need some connection,
To believe that your place here is real.

So since you’ve become so dang speechless
But for me words are flowing out free,
I’ve decided to do us a favor
And I’m writing your love song to me.

You’ve been tongue-tied too long, and it’s getting me down
so let me just write you some verse.
It may seem like bad news
to do it this way,
But believe me, hon, no news is worse.

And since you’ve forgotten your romance
But I need some sweet poetry,
I’ve decided to do us a favor
And I’m writing your love song to me.

You’ll pick your guitar and sing to my soul
The moon will be your spotlight
You’ll speak of the beach
and dancing together
And how our love makes the world right.

You’ll sing of the lilacs and beauty and how you
Feel like the birds understood,
And bird by bird
your song will say
What, word by word, you never could.

It may need some practice, a read-through or two
To feel comfortable with these strange words
But do practice, my sweet,
Cause the perfect it makes
Is the loving that we both deserve.

Well, since you’ve been so strong and silent
And I want to be weak in the knees,
I’m courting myself in your honor
And I’m writing your love song to me.

Yes since you’ve become so dang speechless
But for me words are flowing out free,
I’m doing us both a big favor
And I’m writing your love song to me.

Feeling Bullish in Bear Times

This time, the New Year didn't seem quite as shiny and promising as it has in years past. Partly because every day the radio alarm spouts still more economic bad news. Also because of a particularly rough patch in my girls' sisterly relations that caused multiple family members to give me more than the usual "input" about how best to parent.

There were a few weeks, from December into early January, when it all peaked. It started with a snowstorm that trapped me in the house for nine days with two wild-eyed, manic preschoolers. Then there was the drop-off in work projected for '09 by a number of my belt-tightening clients. And it didn't help that, during my first official commune with nature of 2009, my purse was stolen out of my car.

It was enough to make a normally optimistic gal a bit snarly and defeated.

I was ready for the clean slate and the return to normalcy that the New Year usually promises. But this time, it took a good ten days into '09 before the psychic clouds broke and a little sun got through. Looking back, when I see how I narrowly skirted a permanent malaise about the world and my own piece of it, I get a hindsight shudder like that of a plane-crash survivor realizing how close he came to eating his cabin-mates.

What saved me? Certainly the crucial support of my husband and other family and friends. But from inside, it was also a strong desire to feel good again: a forced optimism that became a true optimism. At my lowest points, I just cried and yelled at my family (and then cried about yelling). But somewhere in there, knowing I didn't like that version of me, I began a conscious decision to find, sometimes moment by moment, something to be happy about.

Gradually, I found little joys in a time that, personally and globally, seemed determined to obscure them. One example: After lamenting my stolen purse and the $300-plus dollars of gift cards I had lost, it occurred to me, as I looked at my new, empty wallet, how this one area of my life had been instantly simplified - a goal I've had for more than a year. In some weird way, it was comforting. I didn't need any of the stuff those gift cards would have bought - it would have just meant more shopping, and more things in my life to wash, dust, or arrange. Now I could turn my energies to other things, like the baby books I've been meaning to finish. The new business I'm launching. And most of all, like the effort to relish my children's childhood while we're all still in it.

Yes, it's that same old adage: your attitude determines your altitude and all that. I've long been a believer, but really came close to going to the dark side this time. In the end, it was so heartening to discover that this old approach still works. I hope it does for others, too, as we all muddle through job losses, daily parenting challenges, and the work it always takes to be human and humane.

Four tips to keep you bullish:
1. Hang on to whatever shred of perspective you can muster: The health, safety and love of family and friends are the markers around which everything else revolves. If you have at least some of those, you're way ahead of the game.
2. Get back to work: When your spirit's drained it's hard to muster energy to do what needs doing. That's got downward spiral written all over it. Starting just one thing on your growing to-do list can rejuvenate your will and your attitude.
3. Be honest: Share your fears - people will offer surprising amounts of support.
4. Take care - When you're overwhelmed it's tempting to neglect yourself. But self-care can be a crucial subconscious lifeline. Keep eating foods that make your body happy, keep exercising or spending time in fresh air, and keep doing the little things that add up to daily care of you.

Sex and the Mommy

Whenever I watch Sex and the City reruns, I get the urge to move back to New York, lose 20 ( okay, 30) pounds, start smoking again (hence the lost pounds), and most of all, be free to sit in my impossibly nice apartment on a rainy urban day, pondering life and relationships, and writing my short, well-paid column.

I told my husband this. He didn't say, "Mee TOOooo!" like my girlfriends would have. But I wonder if he has always suspected this about me and SATC, and that's why he has never liked it. On the other hand, that is, of course, why women love the show. We fantasize about life as a single woman: the freedom, the fun, the sex.

I was once a single New Yorker, making decent money and having fun. What I do now is so far from who I was 20 years ago, I feel like a character in an imposter movie, where a lookalike steps in and starts living a new life in the same body (or a larger, lumpier version).

I'm doing okay in my assumed life; in some areas (like motherhood) I'm actually quite proud of my performance. I seem happy and productive. People, I suspect, are buying it. And me? Well, I can no longer figure out which is the real me. I mean, many times I wonder when I agreed to stop being what I thought I was (informed, energetic, optimistic and cheerful, sometimes sexy, passionate, passionately loved), and be the new me (oblivious, grumpy, frumpy, and tired waaaayy too often).

I sound cynical and a little bit sad, I realize. And probably I am. But that's not all I am. I am also okay with being a bit oblivious (I'm still tracking what's important to me, like what Josie's favorite color of crayon is this week), I can often fight my way back to optimism, and I'm blessed with a healthy and loving and smart and interesting family of origin, two assertive, affectionate and beguiling daughters, a good and loving man who tries his hardest to be what everyone needs of him and who is a fantastic father, and a small passel of great friends. I am also, as of this year, making real money as a writer, because I asked the universe for it and prepared for it.

So yeah, I'd like more cosmos and some strappy sandals in my life. But if it meant I'd have to trade in my new life, I'd just as soon pass, and watch it on TV in my sweats instead.

Mama Adventure #2: Reviving Your Style

We Mamas have so many things to be thankful for as we reflect on last year and turn our energies toward the new. Kids, partners, projects, friends, family, each other - all those people and things in our lives that renew us and keep us engaged.

One thing we tend to miss, though, is our own sweet selves. I'm not saying we neglect ourselves entirely - there's too much zeitgeist these days around mamas taking care of ourselves to claim that the world expects us to just sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice. But we do still spend less time on ourselves than anything or anyone else.

What suffers? Among many other things, our sense of style. From the days of wearing maternity clothes long after we've given birth (come on, you know we all do it)to an absolute lack of time in those infant/toddler months for anything like styling our hair or getting pedicures, to the sag in our once perky bosoms and bellies, it's a struggle to be a mom and a woman of style.

Claim it back!
So, my challenge to you mamas is to get back in touch with your style - whatever it may be. Spend a few minutes pondering your style, what it used to be, what it is now, and whether you've let yours disappear behind your Mama facade. Some things to consider:

• How long has it been since you felt really good about the "you" that you present to the world?
  
• Has it changed since you've become a Mama? Do you do less for yourself? More? Do you care less? (That's not necessarily a bad thing, of course!)
  
• What makes you feel...sexy? ...alive? ...energized? ...unstoppable? Is it when you've taken the time to blow-dry your hair? When you've set aside 30 minutes to meditate, do yoga or be outside? Or...?
  
• Think about a time, or an outfit, in which you felt the way you'd like to feel most of the time. What was it about that shirt, or that night, that made you feel that way? Can you identify a "persona" that you'd like to "wear" more often?
• How can you use all of this information to get your style on?
  

How? By putting it on your to-do list.
Once you've identified some things you can do to revive your style, take another five minutes right now and put three of those things on your calendar. Seriously - right now, schedule time for those things into your day. Ask your husband to get the kids ready for school once a week while you work out. Arrange an old-fashioned girls' night where you do each others' nails and home facials. Buy one new accessory that makes you feel great. Or just go window shopping so you feel more stylistically with it.

You? I'd like you to meet...you!
The boost you get from feeling more alive, more stylish, more sexy and less schlumpy will make the loss of whatever you had to sacrifice (sleep, TV time, getting all the laundry done, the cost of a week's worth of lattes) well worth it. You'll be amazed at how some small changes to your regular routine, that remind you to honor how you like to look and feel, will change your daily mood, outlook, sense of confidence.

I offer this suggestion not as a resolution, but as a way to be thankful for your single greatest gift in life - yourself.

Mama Adventure #1: Traveling with Kids

I have a lovely and difficult curse.

It's called wanderlust. You know, that feeling of, I've got to get OUT of here/town/the house NOW! I've got to GO! You don't always see it coming, but when it's there, it's almost obnoxious in its insistence, despite the other things in your life like, say, work, appointments, deadlines, or people who are relying on you being here, in town or in the house.

I think it's genetic because my Mom has it too. As a teenager, I remember coming home a time or two to an empty house and a note that said simply, "I had to go to the desert. There's money on my dresser and food in the fridge. See you on Sunday XXOO Jude the Mom." When this happened (and it wasn't too often, but often enough) I remember always being a little stunned, but also sort of innately understanding her need. (And back then, as my freedom dawned on me, and I dug my secret pack of cloves out of my backpack and turned on the TV, I quickly moved from stunned to thrilled.)

An Unwilling Traveler Converts
A little later, after I had graduated from high school, Mom took me with her on the - pardon me - mother of all roadtrips: A six-week meander around the perimeter of the country in our '72 orange-and-white VW bus. Just her and me. We drove down the West Coast to L.A., across the Southwest and then east to Florida, up the eastern seaboard to NYC, and then right through the middle of the country to Utah and back home.

It was truly an epic adventure, but I didn't want to go at first. In fact, she pretty much had to drag me kicking and screaming. After all, what self-respecting 18-year-old wants to leave all her friends the summer after high school to hang out in an old hippie car with Mom?? I sulked for the first 20 hours like the most wounded of drama queens. My bitterness and attitude was like a lead blanket for our drive down I-5.

But it didn't take long for me to get on board...only a day or two, in fact. Here's what started to win me over: Waking up in a small Northern California coastal town still shrouded in nautical mist, getting coffee and danish from a local bakery, and wandering the town with Mom, looking for undiscovered treasures and interesting people to talk to at a roadside flea market.

Here's what nudged me further: Mom relenting to buy a map of stars' homes and spending hours searching the hills above L.A. in the July heat and with no air conditioning, all so I could stand alone for a few minutes at the gate of what was once Judy Garland's house, tears spilling out of my awestruck, idealistic, over-the-rainbow colored eyes.

And here's what sealed the deal: Mom letting me drive one night -- a thrill since I never had a car in high school -- the whole long stretch of highway between LA and Pheonix, while she slept in the back (or didn't, as I now know) and I sang along to a mix tape from my boyfriend, my left arm holding a freshly lit Marlboro Light out the open window, sucking in through every pore the romantic cool blackness of a summer desert night at 65 mph and the thrill of being young and alive and not knowing what lay ahead. That trip was a thousand of those memories, and it sealed my destiny as a Wanderluster forever.

What's out there?
Now I'm a couple of decades older, but every few months, especially in the summer and fall, I still get a visceral desire to be in a car, driving outward on fast highway, with a "leaving" song escorting me past the city limits. I struggle with that almost physical need to go to the high, cold desert of eastern Oregon, where the air sears your lungs and spirit; or to the ocean for the rythmic push of the waves and the soothing mist of negative ions, or the call of unknown people in unremarkable towns who might share a bit of their lives with me and therefore make this world seem a little less disjointed.

Most times, I am willing to settle for even a long drive by myself around the city at night, listening to the radio too loud and soaking in the mood of the city lights. (And not listening to Free to Be You and Me for the 700th time. Or placing dishes in to or out of the dishwasher for the third time that day. Or sitting in front of the TV after the kids have gone to bed, not because you want to but because you lack the energy or imagination to do anything else.)

Until recently, my wanderlust has been a curse, because for the past 13 years, I've been either:

1. gainfully employed (and could therefore skip town for only 14 days each year) or
   
2. freshly married (when skipping town seemed inappropriate; better to set up house and gaze adoringly at hubby, or new oriental carpet, or the 27 glass vases received at wedding) or, since 2004,
3. the mother of one, then 18 months later two, baby girls

Traveling with Kids: Isn't That Just for Crazy People?
Mamahood and wanderlust are not the best partners - at least not if you long for the trip you would have taken with your college roommate: all Cheetos and beers and cigarettes and bare legs out the window and secretly staring at yourself in the sideview mirror and admiring how you look in your tan and your highlights and your new Oakleys.

On the other hand, if you prepare well and have the right mind-set, the call of your children and that of the open road need not be mutually exclusive. For one thing, many mamas opt, at least for a while, to take some time away from work (the biggest road-trip killer there is). If you don't work outside the home, either because you're a SAHM, or a self-employed mama, even better - you can take off generally whenever you want!

But even if you work regularly - in fact especially if you work and you don't see your kids as much during the week - a road trip with kids can be the most incredible experience. Or a plane trip, or a train trip. Even a weekend at someone else's house when they're out of town, and you're in a slightly new environment with the beings you love the most - can satisfy that need that mamas struggle with: that need to be out in the world, doing something other than making PB&Js, other than nursing or burping or bathing or diapering or shopping or cleaning or soothing or wiping - just something other. Because even if you're doing the same old stuff, somehow, doing it somewhere else seems different, seems more voluntary, more like adventure and less like drudge.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about and doing travel, both as a singleton and as a mama, and I believe in its powers. But you have to do it right in order for it not to be a complete stress-mess for you and/or your children, and that takes trial and error. In upcoming entries, I'll cover what I've learned from my own adventures and those of other smart, fun and sometimes wild mamas. We'll talk about:

Air Travel with Kids - how to survive , what to pack, what to wear, how to take care of them.
Road Trips - how far and how long is reasonable, how to do it without a DVD player, ideas for short or long trips.
Weekends away - how to get that wanderin' feeling when you have kids and only a couple of days

...and more. If you have ideas, questions, or comments, please join the conversation. My hope is that anyone reading this, who has had that feeling in her guts, will find the inspiration and support to go for it, and to take her kids along for the ride.

--Sarah, December 2007

Beyond Mamadom: Thriving as a Woman

This blog is dedicated to every Mama who has ever wondered where the person she was before Mama-hood went. For Mamas who love their babies more than anything in the world, but would love to strap on their dancing shoes every once in a while. Or their writing shoes, or their hanging-out-with-buddies-and-without-kids shoes, or their husband-loving-me-and-I-don't-mean-as-a-Mom shoes.

I can't say we all have those moments, but I suspect we all do. This blog is about the adventure of motherhood and about having adventures while being a mother, with kids and without. In other words, it's about living, truly living - whatever that means to you - through your time of Mama-hood. For me, now that Littlest is 16 months and Biggest is almost three, it means re-igniting my writing career, trying to blow-dry my hair at least a few times a week, working on loving my body now and as I want it to be 15 pounds from now, and just generally jumping back into the world a little more, and with a little more verve.

As I go through this journey, I know others are on similar paths, and I hope you will add your comments, thoughts, tips, and experiences. By sharing ideas, inspiration, information, conversation, events and stories about being a truly awake, happening, active and self-loving Mama, I hope this blog will help all us Mamas feel alive!

More soon,
Sarah