Mother's Day

Aside from Father’s Day and our children’s birthdays, what better way to celebrate a day than Mother’s Day? This year, Mother’s Day falls on Benjamin’s 7th birthday. I am thrilled to share this day with him. Seven years ago, my baby boy was born two days before Mother’s Day. Will and Elizabeth were 4 and 2 respectively.

Benjamin was as unpredictable in utero as he is out. From conception Benjamin was the cause of quite a few stressful situations. For starters, as with all of my children, I had a CVS (chorionic villus sampling). A CVS is a genetic test that is done between ten and twelve weeks of pregnancy, usually for high risk pregnancies to determine if the fetus is genetically healthy. Because of the loss of our first child, and because of the high risk of our subsequent children having the same genetic disease, we chose to have a CVS. Unfortunately with Benjamin, the lab made a mistake, so I had an amniocentitesis as well. After many grueling months (25 weeks gestation) we finally received the great news that our baby boy was healthy. After a few wonderful weeks of elation we soon found out that not only did I have placenta previa, but Benjamin was transverse.

At 30 weeks pregnant Raj, and I went to a private showing of Anything Goes with Patty Lupone. It was a wonderful evening - a small venue and the cast was extraordinary. Patty belted out an encore and Benjamin went crazy. He was kicking and flipping in ways that I had never felt before. By the end of the evening, I ended up in the hospital. The next six weeks were spent in and out of the hospital, and when I wasn’t in the hospital I was on bed rest. With much relief, Benjamin was delivered by a scheduled cesarean section at 36 weeks.

At conception Raj and I knew that this baby would either be our last pregnancy, or more optimistically, our last child. Thankfully it was the latter, and Benjamin was born two days after Mother’s Day. I was so relieved, so happy, and so proud to be spending Mother’s Day in the hospital with my new beautiful son. He was so little and so cute. I was lucky – I had the "perfect nuclear unit."

Raj brought the kids to the hospital to see their new baby brother again, and to celebrate Mother’s Day. The children came with cards and flowers. Will and Elizabeth eagerly climbed onto the hospital bed with me and Benjamin – such a sweet moment in a mother’s life. Unfortunately, the “moment” was over before you could say “Happy Mother’s Day.” Will immediately discovered the remote control buttons to the hospital bed. Up and down went my back, and in and out went my legs at high speed – not exactly part of my perfect Mother’s Day fantasy. If you have ever had a c-section, you know what I am talking about – ouch!

While Will was moving my body in various positions, my sweet little Elizabeth also discovered a button. At first it was very sweet – “They are sooo cute,” the nurses said. But by the fifth or sixth call to the nurses station, there was nothing cute about it. I think that it would be fair to say that Will and Elizabeth were “pushing my buttons” that day. They were making me pay for not being at home, and for not giving them all of the attention that they were accustomed to. Needless to say, Mother’s Day with my “perfect nuclear unit” was a far cry from perfect. In fact it was a disaster ending, in a total meltdown, with three of us crying (one being me) and Raj carrying Will and Elizabeth in either arm out of the hospital like a sack of potatoes.

I look forward to Mother’s Day - my day, each year. Thankfully we have passed (and survived) the “meltdown phase” only to move on to other stages and phases. I am dreaming of my morning cup of coffee in bed with my three precious children, my three dogs, and Raj, all happily piled in together... my "perfect nuclear unit."

Happy Mother’s Day!

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes...

I'm suffering from a serious case of spring fever, which has manifested into writers block. It's frustrating - I have a lot to say (I usually do!), but I have been paralyzed when it comes to writing it down. My mind is completely discombobulated by all of the of scheduling and planning I have to do. With a change of season comes a change of schedules, and in my case that means 3 new schedules must be committed to memory, and "Houdiniesque" magic tricks must be performed in order for me to be in 3 places all at once - never a dull moment.

While evaluating the children's new schedules, my mind naturally drifted and I became philosophical in my thinking. I started to think about how we are forever changing. There is a beginning and an end to everything we do. We may think that we follow the same routine everyday, but eventually that routine morphs into a new routine without us ever noticing.

Change is good - it represents a new beginning or a new chapter in our lives. Change happens for all kinds of reasons. Some changes are out of our control, such as illness and death, while others are planned; going to college, getting married, etc. As I think back through the years, my life reads like a chapter book – I suspect most of our lives do. Some chapters are better then others.

I've been lucky, I have many fond memories of the past, and no regrets, but when times were tough, they were really tough. When our daughter passed away, my life forever changed. Her short life taught me many great lessons - things that I wish I had learned under different circumstances. She has given me, and Raj, a precious gift; the gift of understanding what truly matters in life, and how to separate the small things from the big things, and the good from the bad. I am at peace knowing that she will forever be in our hearts, and in the hearts of her brothers and sister as we pass her gift of life onto them. She has changed us for the better.

Life is a process of change, a metamorphosis. We change physically and emotionally as we go though each stage of our lives. It's interesting because we basically all follow the same pattern, the same set of milestones. Through all of these changes, most of our character remains the same, and we still hold onto the same value system we grew up with. I think what changes for most of us, and I speak solely from my own experiences, is our philosophy on life, and our acceptance and tolerance for things.

My sister Betsy is two months away from starting a new chapter in her life - she and her husband are expecting their first child. Expecting a baby is such a beautiful time in life - full of dreams of the unknown. As Betsy’s big sister, I am tickled when I think of how drastic her life is about to change…for the better (I promise Betz!). A baby brings a lot of joy and wonderful changes to one's life. But, unlike a hairstyle, a baby is forever. There's no turning back, no changes here except for diapers...lots of them!

I'm due for a change (ha ha). I'm ready to begin a new chapter in my life. I will be busy pursuing some of my own dreams…we'll see where they lead me.

Czzy

REALity

Finding material to write about for a weekly blog is challenging. As a writer, one of the principle rules I follow is simple - write what you know. When I write, I often draw from my own life experiences, or I get an idea from something interesting that a person around me has said or done. I also use current events for ideas, as I did for the postings of "Beware of the Fat Bug," "Barbie's World," and "Public School Envy."

A reader of 3 Kids and a Dog…Plus 2 referred to last week's blog as "reality TV." I am thrilled that I have sparked an emotion in this reader. I do not watch much reality TV but I have seen enough to know that this was not a compliment.

I scrolled through my past blogs to see what she meant by her comment (which by the way she accidentally forwarded to me…Oops! A future blog will deal with email etiquette). She is right, there is "reality" in what I write, and that is exactly what I hope to bring to my readers - real life issues that many of us can relate to. Whether I am writing about something campy, like Barbie's 50th birthday, or a more serious topic such as choosing the right school for our children, I often lend my experiences to the story. Making a connection, so to speak, brings life to a story – it adds honesty and emotion to a topic that otherwise may be just factual.

The "reality TV" comment got me to thinking. If I were to have a reality TV series I would call it "The PA" (parents association). It would be brilliant! There would be several leading roles: the controlling former business executive, who runs her home, children, and the PA like a business; the mother with too much help, and oh too little time; and then there could be the competitive mother who wants to "one-up" everyone on everything. This is an excellent example of writing about what you know – been there, seen that! My role would be producer. Writing about binging on Doritos with my son is one thing, having it caught on camera is another - I'll leave that up to the Kardashians.

Back to reality ladies -spring has arrived and it is time to put away our light boxes, shave our legs, and get happy. I look forward to this time of year. After a long cold and snowy winter spring-cleaning begins: we open our screen porch, sweep terraces clean, covers come off the outdoor furniture, and the grill gets going. The children will celebrate spring with their cousins, and a few friends, roasting marshmallows and eating s'mores in our roaring outdoor fireplace. It is a fun time of year.

Spring for me also means preparing for our vegetable garden - I will be tilling soil (that's a sight!), and seeding - there is much to do, so I will post every two weeks now. If you would like to make a comment, or suggestion regarding my blog, it does not have to be by accident. You can comment anonymously by going to Post a Comment, then Select a Profile. I look forward to hearing from you.
Czzy

Barbie's World

This week marked several 50th anniversaries. It was the anniversary of President Obama's 50th day in office, Lilly Pulitzer marked 50 years of happy-hue clothing designs, the Dalai Lama entered exile 50 years ago, and Barbie turned 50!

President Obama's 50th day in office sparked questions concerning gray hair and whether or not gray hair is determined by our genes or caused by stress. Martha Stewart celebrated Lilly Pulitzer's 50th jubilee by having her entire studio audience dress in Lilly attire. Sadly, not much attention was given to the Dalai Lama. Barbie, however, is having a splendid 50th birthday celebration - Mattel has built a 3,500 square-foot Malibu mansion for Barbie and her celebrity friends to party. When the party is over, the mansion will become a Barbie Museum.

Embarrassingly, Barbie's birthday interests me the most out of the week's jubilees. Babs is 50 and fabulous – how could she not be? For her 50th, Mattel has given her a makeover. Based on "Dr. Czzy's" observations (who does not treat Barbie), she has indeed had some "plastic" work done. Her lips appear plumper; she has a thinner jaw line, larger eyes, and not a gray hair in sight!

The concept of Barbie is amusing. As a child, my mother would not allow me to have a Barbie Doll, which probably explains my interest in the toy's anniversary. My mother, who was a product of the women's rights movement, believed that the Barbie doll exploits women as sex objects. She's right, Barbie did and still does, but at least now she has a brain.

Here are a few facts about our brainy friend: She debuted on March 9, 1959, and her full name is Barbie Millicent Roberts. She is from the fictitious town of Willows, Wisconsin, and she has had an impressive 108 careers in her 50 years - that's 2.16 careers per year. If she were life size, she would be 5'9", her measurements would be 39-18-33, and her shoe size would be a size 3. According to studies done on Barbie's measurements, if she were human, she would have to crawl around on all fours, as she would not be able to balance her buxom chest with her tiny feet! The studies also indicate that a "real" woman of these proportions would not have enough body fat to menstruate. Perhaps that is why Barbie never had an heir!

Barbie comes with every imaginable accoutrement a girl could want. She has a dream house, a beach house, and a convertible, among other material objects. She has an enviable wardrobe with matching shoes and a handbag for each outfit. She even dons an outfit for each of her 108 careers. Have you ever seen an astronaut look so chic in a space suit?

My mother was progressive for her time. She was a young mother of five, and tough as nails. She never gave in to the things that really counted – like her beliefs. I was desperate for a Barbie doll - all the girls had them, but my mother never gave in. Do not feel sorry for me, I have had my fair share of Barbie time. I was a resourceful young lady, and spent many afternoons playing with our neighbor and her collection of Barbie dolls while her mother and mothers boyfriend practiced yoga, naked, in the room next door - How's that for progressive?

My mother was far from naive and was well aware of my surreptitious Barbie play. To her credit, she looked the other way - I think she appreciated my gumption. It was not until many years later that my mother found out about the naked yoga - she took it well.

Ironically, it was my mother who bought Elizabeth her first Barbie doll. I was shocked. When I questioned this contradiction, she said, "It's just a princess." Albeit, a princess with large, perky breasts, and not a bit of cellulite! Don't all princesses look like that?

To this day, I cannot look at a Barbie doll without seeing all the silly sexist elements to the doll - it is actually quite humorous. However, and clearly I am not a psychologist (just a "plastic" surgeon!), I believe that just as playing with a toy gun does not make a boy a killer, that playing with a Barbie doll will not psychologically damage a young girls self esteem and/or body image (Hollywood has that one covered!).

My mother passed away several years ago - it would have been fun to talk to her about Barbie's 50th anniversary. I am sure that she would have had some insightful thoughts and comments, and possibly a real explanation for why it was okay for Elizabeth to have a Barbie doll, and not me. My guess is, that with time, she learned that it isn't the doll that makes the girl, but rather good mothering and she was the best!

If I could design a 50th anniversary Barbie, I would name her "Menopause Barbie." She would have a flirty salt and pepper bob, and wear a Dalai Lamaesque toga, with Lilly Pulitzer prints. I would of course preserve her fabulous plastic fantasy figure, and she would come complete with a boy toy. "Life in plastic is fantastic….."

Happy Birthday Barbie!

Public School Envy

Will and I just binged on a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos…I have been picking Doritos crumbs out of my keyboard ever since – it serves me right. At first, I could not figure out what had happened to my computer. Every time I typed the letter "I," it would not work so, I took the "I" key off and there it was – a Dorito crumb. I blew it away only for the same thing to happen with the "H" key, and so forth. After a while, I succeeded in getting rid of the crumbs by blowing all of them onto the car floor all the while feeling confident that one of our three dogs would eat them. I have learned a valuable lesson: the next time that Will and I have time to spare we will not stop at a convenience store and binge on junk food in a parking lot. Ick, it must be the state of the economy that made me do it (they were delicious though)!

Unfortunately, the economy is in the forefront of all of our minds - whether we like it or not. It is unavoidable and quite depressing (hence the comfort food). Some of us have lost our jobs, and those of us who have been lucky enough to keep them are not sure how long this will last. In a society where we are used to being in control, the uncertainty of the economy is starting to take a toll. It has touched all of our lives in one way or another.

There is a definite change in the energy around me -the buzz is gone. Shopping, which has become a "sport" for many Americans, is now done out of necessity – milk, bread, new school shoes, etc. Indulging no longer feels as good as it used to - the guilty pleasure that we once enjoyed has turned into plain ol' guilt. We second-guess our purchases – "Do I really need those shoes?", or we wait for them to go on sale. The "haves" are quickly becoming the "have no ts" and "staycations" are becoming the norm. Our happy-go-lucky days are temporarily on hold...I hope.

Private education has become an area of uncertainty for many families. They are having to ask themselves the unthinkable - "Are we getting our monies worth?", and even worse (in their minds), "Should we consider the public school?" Many of you following this blog are fortunate, like me, to live in areas of the country that have excellent public school systems to use as a "fall back." These public schools are hardly "fall backs." In fact, many of these public schools are some of the finest schools in the country. Things could be worse.

When our children attended private school many parents in our town often asked me why I sent my children to a private school when the public school system in our area is so good. I never really had a good answer. Usually, I would chalk it up to smaller class sizes. The longer our children attended the private school the more Raj and I would ask ourselves the "burning question" - "Are we getting our monies worth?" In the end, our answer was NO.

It took us a couple of years, and a lot of wasted money, before we made the switch. My husband was on the Board of Trustees at the private school so he was privy to alot. He saw the school from two very different perspectives: as a parent and as a trustee. It was Raj, who for the last couple of years wanted our children to leave the school. However, I could not let go. I clung onto the ideals of a private school education, and selfishly, I felt insecure about the social implications if we were to leave private school for public school. Silly, right…or not?

At the end of the day, we all must sit back and honestly ask ourselves "What is best for our family?" and not worry about what the "Jones'" think. Switching schools was the right choice for our family. If your family chooses the "fall back" option, for whatever your reasons, I can assure you that your children will not suffer. In fact, the chance of your children going to the college of their choice is as good if not better after attending the public vs. private school.

A friend said something that helped put it all into perspective for me. She said, "I use to have private school envy." She went on to explain that at first she thought her children might be missing out, but that was before she saw how great the public school system is. Her children are happy and thriving at the public school. What more could a parent ask for?

Raj and I are both products of public school, and we didn't turn out so bad…perhaps we should all have "public school envy!"

The Donald

We have just returned bronzed and fresh from a week in Palm Beach. The children had a blast swimming, surfing and meeting other children. They were very sad to have to pack up and head back north – always a sign of a good vacation.

Esmar, our incredible nanny, joined us on vacation. Without her, our vacation would not have been nearly as relaxing. Each morning Raj and I were able to workout together, and in the evenings, we could escape for dinner on our own. Esmar is a Godsend and we all adore her.

One evening, while Esmar and the children hung out in the hotel game room, Raj and I had cocktails with a friend at his very exclusive club, The Mar-a-Lago Club. It has been close to 13 years since Raj and I had last been there. At the time, Donald Trump, who purchased the estate in the mid-80's, was on his 2nd wife, Marla Maples - and the dust from their scandalous relationship had just about settled.

Mar-a-Lago, as it is appropriately named, means sea-to-lake in Latin. The estate is comprised of 20 beautifully manicured sea-to-lake acres with exceptional water views. Raj and I have been lucky enough to see the property during the day and during the evening - both times were equally stunning.

Our first visit to Mar-a-Lago was during the afternoon. We toured the estate grounds (as Marla frolicked poolside in her bikini), and we toured a few of the 126 interior rooms. The estate, which was originally built in the 1920's by the elegant Majorie Merriweather Post (at the time Mrs. E.F. Hutton), has a museum like quality to it, with every detail from doorknobs to the light fixtures meticulously appointed. To The Donald's credit, he has done a phenomenal job restoring it. My favorite room is the bar. Not because of the room's stately mahogany walls, or because of the elegant drapes and upholstery, but because of a rare portrait hanging prominently for all to enjoy while sipping a favorite libation.

During our recent visit, we enjoyed our own libation on the terrace. The stars shined brightly above and the breeze was heavenly. The lights from West Palm Beach twinkled happily in the distance across Lake Worth, and we sat next to Mr. Trump and wife No. 3. We exchanged pleasantries with The Donald, and she smiled (I keep wondering who No. 4 will be!). A spectacular evening, but for one small detail…jets roared thunderously across the sky, for what seemed like every 10 minutes, making it very difficult to hear one another speak..."Excuse me?!" For all of its splendors, Mar-a-Lago has the misfortune of being located directly beneath the main flight path of Palm Beach International Airport... How does the "jet set" stand it?

My metallic gold Jimmy Choos worked overtime aerating the grounds (a cost savings for The Donald) as we strolled along the property after cocktails. Our visit was nearing an end, as we had dinner reservations in town. However, before I could leave I had to see it again – "The Portrait." It is not often that a commoner, such as me, has the privilege of seeing such a rare piece of art once, let alone twice. The average person has a far greater chance of seeing the Mona Lisa in their lifetime; the Louvre, is open to the public for a nominal fee, as opposed to Mar-a-Lago's six-digit membership fee.

I hobble along the sprawling lawn, up the terrace staircase and into the mahogany bar – and there it was, right before my very eyes – the most outrageous, comical portrait I have ever seen…The Donald, sporting tennis whites and his signature comb-over. OMG!

Amongst chauffeurs and Bentleys, Raj and I were graciously escorted into our rented gold Kia minivan, and excitedly sped off to our next adventure – theatre at its best…dinner in Palm Beach.