Category: Family & Parenting

Sitting across from my middle school aged daughter, I could see on her face that she was struggling. Her furrowed brow, her irritability, along with her quietness and her frustrated sighs, all told, were like beacons of unhappiness, calling for a mom intervention. Or so I thought. 

I watched her closely and proceeded with a barrage of questions. How are things at soccer? How are things with your friends; are you getting along lately? How about school; the workload sure can be a bugger and stress you out, right? Did you ever hear back on the social studies exam? After several shoulder shrug responses, I racked my brain for more questions. My head was wildly spinning with ideas. 

My daughter assured me that it’s okay for her not be okay all the time

A few moments (and many questions) later, my daughter picked her head up, and looked me squarely in the eyes. “You know, it’s okay that I’m not happy sometimes, right? And, you don’t need to do anything about it.” 

It was one of those parenting moments where I say to myself, “clean up in aisle 15.” As in, listen to your daughter, sending a clear and coherent message about her experience of your parenting right now. Listen to her message. Embrace her experience of what you are doing and take a moment to self-check and decide if you need to shift your parenting course.  

Parents are well-intended when they try to solve their kids’ problems

Frankly, my daughter had nailed it. I was an “emotional perfectionist” when it came to my kids. I actually couldn’t stand when they were upset or unhappy. I’d crack jokes. I’d offer solutions. I’d pepper them with questions.

I was well intended. I figured I had so much wisdom and experience to impart that I could surely save my kids from some emotional angst and we could get everyone on an even emotional keel again, which felt safe to me. 

Here’s the kicker though. I practiced as a psychologist for years. I know better. I used to help parents to look out for their own emotional perfectionism in parenting and to keep it in check.

I know that emotional perfectionism is a double whammy; if the parent solves the problem for the kid, both the kid and the parent immediately feel better. However, with this comes a lost opportunity for a kid to struggle well and problem solve and emerge on the other side with some experience of their own.

Furthermore, it robs the parent of the opportunity to just sit back and show their kid that they believe in their ability to handle the situation. It’s subtle, but when you dive in to help, the undercurrent message is “I’m not sure you can handle this situation by yourself.” 

Expecting emotional perfectionism in kids puts a lot of pressure on them

Expecting emotional perfectionism in your kids also inadvertently places a lot of pressure on them. Pressure to keep emotional expression at bay, pressure to appear happy for the sake of others, and it subtly sends the message that the experience of negative emotions is less than, when, in fact, negative emotions are a commonplace and everyday experience. 

Keeping our own emotional perfectionism in check as parents is important. It creates space for our kids to learn to navigate difficult problems and difficult emotions. This is not to say that it’s a hands off approach when our kids are upset, but instead it is an approach of acceptance of their experience and a willingness to be there in the thick of it with them, with there being only one goal: available for support if needed or wanted.

A parent’s goal should be to be available for support if needed

Reading the room is important here. For me, the shoulder shrug responses from my daughter should’ve been enough for me to back off. She was sending the message that she wasn’t really receptive to help at that time.

I will often say to our now grown kids, are you looking for solutions or an empathetic ear? You might be surprised how many times they are just looking for an empathetic ear and will take off a short time later, solving problems on their own. 

It’s not a perfect road nor is it always a direct path, but I’d encourage you to look for emotional perfectionism in yourself, as a parent.

It quietly hangs around and becomes noisy at times and really can interfere with our true mission as parents to shepherd (not direct) our kids through life’s difficulties. But when you can see it in yourself and catch it, a window opens for your kids to have an opportunity to struggle well through something and this can be a valuable experience for everyone.

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The Crushing Culture of Parental Expectations

This article is intended for informational purposes only and is not intended to substitute for professional mental health advice from a qualified mental health provider for your specific situation. If this is something you or your child struggles with, consider scheduling with a therapist to discuss this, relative to your child and your specific situation. 

My husband and I are both physicians and our oldest daughter has just graduated from college. She majored in biology and is considering a future in medicine. She has completed all the prerequisite courses and has taken and scored well on the medical entrance exam the MCAT.

She has her letters of recommendation ready and she has a position lined up at a doctor’s office to get some clinical experience under her belt. She is ready and she is in a strong position to be highly competitive. But she is hesitating. Many of her friends are taking a gap year or two to prepare for Physician Assistant school instead of medical school. Should she consider this, she wonders?

Our daughter asked for us to weigh in about whether she should go to medical school

She asks for our take. We know she is weighing the cost of medical school and the time it will take away from her personal life. She has always said she wants children and she is worried how she will be able to balance work and home life. Med school is many years longer than PA school and costs more. Many doctors end up in significant debt getting their training. Maybe there is a better path?

When my husband and I became doctors, getting into medical school was a golden ticket. Yes, med school was expensive, but job prospects were bright and doctors in general were satisfied with their profession and respected.

Twenty years ago women were wary of how they would balance medicine and motherhood

Twenty years ago, there were still many more male doctors than female doctors, but the tide was turning. Our med school class was approximately 50% women. Even then, women were wary of how to balance medicine with motherhood.

I think of the time in our first year of med school when I sat around with a group of other female med students and they all talked about their own parents. Many had come from physician parents and, without exception, if their mom was a doctor, they said that they did not get to see her growing up and that they wanted to do things differently with their own families.

But now there are so many women in the profession. We want to encourage her, go for it! Become a doctor! Advocate for change from the inside out!

We asked doctor friends if they were satisfied with their careers

So now we ask around: Are doctors our age glad they went to medical school. Has it been worth it? Do they recommend it for their own children? The doctors we talk to are thoughtful and generous with their time. Most of the male doctors agree that is is difficult to balance a medical career with time with family, but that overall they are happy with the way things have turned out.

Several of the women doctors express that they feel they missed out on a lot when their kids were little. They wish residency had been more accommodating when it came to maternity leave, they wish they had been able to work part time on occasion, they talk about the profession being a difficult place to prioritize the needs of their children.

The doctors we spoke to talked about how much harder medicine has become

All of the doctors talk about how much harder the medical profession has become in the past twenty years: Increased micro management by insurance companies, limits on the time they are allowed to spend with a patient, decreased funding for research and medical care from both the private and public sector, increased physician burnout and the whirlwind decline of physician satisfaction during and after the pandemic. In truth, we are seeing the end of privatepractice as we know it. Doctors are being forced to close the doors to their private practice.

No question it is hard to be a doctor.

“You have to love it!” these doctors advise us. It is hard. They describe how many patients come in with a chip on their shoulder. “They are not always kind to our Nurse Practitioners and our PAs,” they tell us. “Even with us, they sometimes forget that we are also working long hours and are frustrated by things that are out of our control.” And yet, it is a glorious career.

Being a doctor means getting excellent training and experiencing the exquisite privilege of taking care of people.

Our daughter updates us that many of her friends are choosing not to apply to medical school, even the ones with excellent chances of getting in. They think it is too expensive, and that the payoff in terms of career satisfaction is too unsure.

I have a moment of existential crisis. What are we going to do if our bright young people don’t want to become doctors? We will need doctors. Someone needs to be around to take care of us and the generations to come.

I tell my daughter that I will never regret becoming a doctor

I tell her I will never regret my education. Yes, it was expensive and yes, it took many years but it was an incredible experience. The world will always need doctors. Even if your plane crashes on a deserted island, your medical knowledge will be valuable. No matter how the world changes and how technology advances, we will always need doctors.

Here is what I think: The helping professions are about giving back. Make sure you protect yourself and your family and set firm boundaries. Life is short and we only get one chance to raise our own children. Get the best education you can for the best price. Forge your own path and know that as with all career choices, there will be rewards and there will be costs.

I don’t have the answers for my daughter

The passage of time has not made me smarter, has not made me more sure, it has only made me more humble. I had my turn making these big decisions: Weighing the pros and cons, thinking through life choices and weighing my options.

I did what I thought was best at the time with the information I had. I don’t have the answers for this next generation. I don’t know if they should still pursue a medical school education. But I do have faith in their ability to make their own choices.

And I will be here cheering them on, whatever path they choose. And that is enough.

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How to Speak to Your Teen About Picking a Major in College

Traditional Irish jewelry is rich in symbolism, often incorporating motifs that carry deep cultural and historical significance. The Irish jewelry symbols are often deeply rooted in Celtic culture, and in fact, Celtic crystal design has ties to nature, mythology, spirituality, and, of course, good luck. 

Celtic jewelry comes in a variety of styles, from classic designs to more modern interpretations. Consider your personal style preferences when choosing a piece. For example, do you prefer intricate knotwork designs or simpler, more understated pieces? Think about how the jewelry will complement your wardrobe and lifestyle, and how it might tie into your heritage. 

Symbols Found In Irish Jewelry

Here are some common symbols found in Irish jewelry, and the meanings behind them:

• Claddagh Ring: This iconic Irish symbol features two hands clasping a heart, topped with a crown. The hands represent friendship, the heart symbolizes love, and the crown signifies loyalty. The Claddagh ring is often given as a token of friendship or worn as an engagement or wedding ring.

• Trinity Knot (Triquetra): The Trinity Knot is a three-pointed interlaced design, representing concepts like the Holy Trinity in Christianity (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) or in a more general sense, cycles of life, death, and rebirth.

• Shamrock: The shamrock is a symbol of Ireland and is closely associated with St. Patrick, who is said to have used the three-leaved clover to explain the concept of the Holy Trinity. Shamrocks are believed to bring good luck and protect people from harm and have their roots in ancient folklore and superstitions. Wearing shamrocks is thought to ward off evil spirits and negative energy.

• Celtic Cross: A combination of a Christian cross and a circle around the intersection, the Celtic Cross represents the fusion of Christianity with Celtic traditions. The circle is often interpreted as the sun or eternity.

• Irish Harp: The harp is the national symbol of Ireland and represents tradition, music, and national identity. It has been associated with Irish culture for centuries and is featured on various emblems, flags, and coins.

• Celtic Knotwork: Celtic knotwork designs are intricate patterns of interwoven lines with no beginning or end, symbolizing eternity and interconnectedness. They are often used to adorn jewelry, representing concepts like love, loyalty, and infinity.

• Ogham Script: Ogham is an ancient Irish alphabet consisting of a series of strokes or notches along a central line. Each letter corresponds to a different arrangement of these marks. Ogham script is sometimes incorporated into Irish jewelry to spell out names or meaningful words.

• Spirals: Spirals are common motifs in Irish art and jewelry, representing growth, transformation, and the cyclical nature of life. They can also symbolize spirituality and the journey of the soul.

Summary!

Whether you’re drawn to traditional designs or contemporary interpretations, Celtic jewelry is a timeless expression of culture, heritage, and individuality. Always shop from reputable sources that specialize in authentic Celtic jewelry. Research the retailer’s reputation, read reviews, and look for certifications or memberships in industry associations.

Also Read: Top 6 Tips to Art of Layering Necklaces: A Beginners Guide 

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When we tell the story now, late in the night, usually after a few glasses of wine, we describe the scene in perfect detail. The blue sky, the white clouds parting to reveal a ray of sunlight, the birds singing. Did music start playing? I could have sworn there was music playing.

In reality it was just a normal weekday in September in the midmorning after breakfast was cleared and the baths were done, and the toddlers were finally bored of pushing trucks around the living room making truck sounds. We each headed out for our daily walk, essential in those days because by this point we had run out of ideas to entertain the toddlers and it was still only midmorning.

My new friend and I were so happy to spot each other on a walk

Somewhere along the path that I took and the path that she took, we spotted each other in the distance. And while I’m sure the clouds didn’t actually part, and birds didn’t suddenly start singing, I did absolutely feel butterflies in my stomach.

I walked faster. She walked faster. We had found each other.

We had met over the summer at the local pool, two young moms sitting alone with sleeping babies in strollers, heads buried in books. We made eye contact, noticing our identical color and brand of jogging stroller, and gave a little wave and hello.

Later in the baby pool, we introduced ourselves and spent the next hour chatting. And then we each headed home in different directions.

I doubted myself the whole walk home. Should I have gotten her number? Would it have been weird to give her my number? This was unfamiliar territory. 

As a child I never worried about making friends

Even though I was a painfully shy child, I never worried about making friends. I didn’t consider the process at all. My earliest childhood friends were the children of my parents’ friends and the kids on my block. I clicked with some and became closest with a few, but I didn’t have to look very hard to try to find them.

In high school they played on my volleyball team and sat next to me in math class. In college they lived down the hall of my dorm or pledged the same sorority. Even when I got out of college, there were people at connecting cubicles and around the conference table in meetings.

I never really thought about how to make friends as an adult

I never really thought about how to find friends because there were always people around to befriend. But then one day, as I sat on the floor making engine noises as I pushed a red truck around in circles, I realized that I hadn’t talked to an adult all day.

Did I even remember how to talk to an adult? What would I even say?

While the events of that September day were nothing as dramatic as we portray in our retelling, the truth is that it was a pivotal moment for both of us. While neither of us had wanted to admit it, we were lonely.

When we spotted each other on the walk, we both hurried towards each other and stopped on the sidewalk talking for what probably was hours. And we never stopped talking.

With names and numbers stored safely in our phones, we made plans to meet up for a walk the next day. The walks became daily and went for miles. They started to include stops at the library for story time and excursions to different playgrounds.

As new moms we were so lonely

Rainy days were spent at indoor play spaces or with each other in our own playrooms. Some days we called each other in the morning to plan what we would do that day, then spent the day doing the thing we planned, and then called each other in the afternoon to talk about how much fun we had doing the thing we had done.

Did I mention we were lonely? 

Our friendship became way less about filling time between naps and more about a genuine connection that was organic and easy. While the timing of the walk might have brought us to the same block at the same time on that one September day, that meeting had been years in the making.

Days into our friendship we realized that we had both moved to our current neighborhood from Hoboken, NJ. In a city of only one square mile, how many times had we passed each other on the sidewalk before?

Weeks into our friendship we realized that we had gone to college in the same town. We were brand new friends who had the same shared experiences to reminisce over. We had spent our college nights at the same parties. We both missed the fresh cookies at our favorite bakery and the pizza at our favorite late night spot. How many times had we been in the same crowded college bar not noticing each other? 

It’s been 20 years since that first connection and our friendship has evolved

It has been 20 years, and our friendship has evolved in ways that we could not have imagined in those early days. We each had two more children, spending both of those pregnancies together, moving to slower walks with protruding bellies, double joggers and baby carriers to accommodate our growing families.

We have celebrated baptisms, communions and graduations. We turned 30, then 40, and now 50. There has been heartbreak and tragedy and times we told each other things we couldn’t tell anyone else.

Our children love each other like family. The sleepovers, shared vacations and memories together have made them each other’s first call when they need a friend.

They have grown up together. We have grown up together. 

This month I turned 50 and took stock of my relationships

I turned 50 this month and celebrated with a big party at our house. I took a minute to look around and take in the scene. I looked at the faces of friends who have filled our house with laughter over the years. The PTA co-chairs, the softball coaches, the moms I met at pick up lines, the parents we connected with on the sidelines of our kids’ soccer games. This incredible group of friends has become the community that I have always needed.

It wasn’t instant and it wasn’t always easy. It took joining clubs and tennis groups and getting out of the car at school pick up, even when it was cold and rainy. It took saying hello to people at the grocery store who I recognized from the soccer fields.

It took time. Looking across the room at the beautiful patchwork of people gathered together, I felt incredibly lucky and still a little surprised. It hadn’t seemed possible all of those years before. But it started with that one friend and that one not so chance encounter on a sunny September day. 

Our relationships will continue to evolve. We will continue to celebrate happy occasions together and we will cry with each other when things are hard. We will have quiet houses again.

Our walks will get slower eventually. We will start new chapters in our lives. We might not live in the same place or see each other as often as we used to but when we do it will feel like absolutely no time has passed. We will keep telling that same story, and yes, the details will change and it will become even more dramatic in the retelling, but we will keep telling it. And when we remember it, there will absolutely be music playing. 

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I joined my first swim team when I was seven. It began as a summer activity, but a decade after my first race, I was a nationally ranked high school senior fielding calls from college recruiters and deciding which scholarship to accept.

Swimming was my life. Until suddenly it wasn’t. And when I became a parent and my two children were old enough to choose their own sports, I didn’t encourage them to follow my path, I didn’t hope nature and nurture would collaborate to create in them the passion for swimming that once lived inside me.

I was afraid that my kids would want to be swimmers

In fact, I hoped for the opposite. I feared my kids would love swimming. I feared my old passion dwelled in their genetics. Because I feared I would try to redeem my failures, disappointments and pain through them.

I was always a good swimmer, but it wasn’t until I joined a new team in high school that I became addicted to the buzzing energy of competition, the rush of first place. I did everything this new coach told me to do.

He told me to train for the grueling 400 Individual Medley. I did. He told me to break up with my boyfriend. I did. He told me to lose weight. I did.

Throughout junior year, I woke up at 4:30am for morning practice, then returned for afternoon practice. Swimming. Weight lifting. Running. Sit-ups. Push-ups. I was a machine, lean and strong, motivated and intensely competitive. 

I barely ate and stopped getting my period

I was also barely eating, sleeping through classes and so thin I stopped getting my period.

Today, elite athletes like Simone Biles, Michael Phelps and Naomi Osaka are helping to open up the public conversation about the intersection of mental health and competitive sports by sharing their own struggles. But back in the early 90’s, nobody discussed mental health. Nobody talked about burnout or the pressure young athletes carry. Nobody talked about being human, not machines.

At 19 my swimming career ended after a reality check from an orthopedic surgeon, shoulder injuries robbing me of the choice to retire on my own terms and forcing me to abandon the goals that would forever remain unfulfilled. I reluctantly entered the next phase of my life as a non-athlete, where I floundered trying to figure out who I was without a sport I both cherished and despised.

I should have been proud of my accomplishments but my failures overshadowed everything

I should have been proud of my accomplishments. I won countless medals and awards. I competed at the same meets as my idols. I was featured repeatedly in my newspaper’s local sports section with photos and write-ups. I was named fancy titles like All-County Swimmer of the Year and countless MVPs. I accepted a scholarship to a Division I swim team.

But, in my mind, the failures overshadowed the achievements. I missed qualifying for Olympic Trials by fractions of a second. I internalized and kept silent about the harsh words of an abusive coach. I had a tortured relationship with scales and mirrors. I lost that scholarship.

My ambivalence toward swimming continued when I became a parent. While I knew I didn’t want my children to be competitive swimmers, I also knew it was important for them to learn water safety and basic swimming skills. 

I couldn’t teach my children to swim

I should have been the one to teach my kids how to swim. After all, I could dissect stroke technique and explain the mechanics of swimming better than any YMCA lifeguard. But I couldn’t do it, choosing instead to pass those duties to the lifeguards. I couldn’t teach my son, and later my daughter, how to swim without an overwhelming fear I would become one of those parents.

We’ve all seen those parents. The ones screaming at their kids at sporting events. The ones criticizing their young athletes for not trying hard enough. The ones caught on video yelling at referees and getting into brawls with parents on opposing teams. The ones ruining their children’s athletic experiences because of their bad behavior.

With my experience I didn’t think I could be a casual swim mom

I was terrified I would join that club if my kids were swimmers. While I was pretty sure I would never be a yeller, I wasn’t sure I would mute my criticisms. I was an expert on the sport and could have been a coach myself. With my knowledge and experience, I didn’t think it was possible for me to be a casual swim mom.

I also didn’t think I could handle watching my children endure the same struggles I did. The long solitary hours underwater. The constant awareness of body fat. The debilitating injuries. All sports come with their own specific challenges, but I couldn’t bear for my kids to relive mine. Maybe if they played different sports – if they chose athletics at all – I could offer my support from a more objective point of view.

As my kids got older I signed them up for sports other than swimming

So as they got older, I signed them up for any after-school activity they found remotely interesting. T-ball, soccer, basketball. Tennis lessons, Lego club, pottery club. They both earned black belts in taekwondo. Whenever they moved on to something new, I included an unenthusiastic suggestion of swimming, but I was happy when they chose something else.

My son ultimately stuck with track and cross country. My daughter found her passion for softball. They’re both aware of my past as a swimmer, and whenever I asked them if they felt they missed out on opportunities to follow my footsteps, they assured me the desire was never there.

Years ago, at one of my son’s high school track meets, I watched a girl approach her father in the crowd of spectators after her race. In front of dozens of parents, the father yelled at her, pointing his finger at her, at the track, at everything she did wrong. I looked away, mortified for that poor child, but also relieved I wasn’t one of those parents.

I was worried that my past would turn me into a nightmare swim mom

I’ll never know if my fears would have come true, if my experiences would have turned me into a nightmare swim mom living vicariously through my children. I’ll never know if I would pressure my kids to reach the success I fell short of. I’ll never know if my expectations and criticisms would destroy our relationship. 

Maybe I would have been the same mother I ultimately became, the one asking questions about sports I don’t know much about and cheering from a healthy distance. I only know for sure I’m thankful my kids found their own paths. And those paths didn’t include a pool.

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Who Am I If I’m Not a ‘Sports Mom’ Anymore?

About 10 years ago, I took my eldest son Noe, who is on the autism spectrum, and his brother camping with friends on Orcas Island. We spent a perfect Pacific Northwest summer day climbing Mount Constitution.

We were eating lunch at the top of the mountain when I turned my attention away from Noe for a moment to hand out sandwiches, only to find him on the other side of the observation deck. He had climbed a ledge and was dangling over, a breath away from falling, and certain death.

I have no memory of the next couple of minutes, but I must have coaxed him down safely because he is still here. I still startle awake, panicked and dizzy, when that cliff invades my dreams at night.

It was an accomplishment to get our son to age 21

Noe, who also has apraxia and epilepsy, turned 21 recently. We celebrated the simple victory that we had kept him alive to full adulthood. As the incident at Orcas Island reminds me, it’s no small feat – though it brings to mind a different kind of cliff that our family now faces.

Age 21 is when school services abruptly end and parents are left to schedule and pay for the small corners of their kids’ days. We’ve been warned about this age event since Noe was diagnosed with autism at age 2.

This cliff represents both great progress and magnificent failure. You can’t fall off a cliff if you haven’t scaled significant heights. Since The Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) (the legislation that made education an entitlement for kids with disabilities) passed in 1975, we’ve made huge strides in helping special needs kids integrate into their communities.

At 21 the public support system for kids with disabilities ends abruptly

A generation ago, a doctor would have told us to institutionalize Noe. Just typing that sentence makes my heart hurt. By age 21, the majority of these kids, including Noe, have developed the skills to live and work in their community. But the support abruptly ends for them to do so successfully.

Only 44% of adults with an intellectual disability are in the labor force. Sixteen percent work in a sheltered workshop earning far below minimum wage, with little to no chance of moving to meaningful work. This is the statistic staring us in the face as we transition Noe to adult life.

For the first 21 years of his life, we had the anchor of the public school system, however flawed, to educate him and guide our journey. Noe has attended school full time with necessary accommodations since age 3.

We now enter a confusing maze of agencies with no guarantees

Now we enter a confusing maze of agencies that provide piecemeal vocational training and day program support, but too often place restrictions on who they will serve. Nothing is guaranteed. And starting in June, Noe’s calendar is glaringly empty. For a young person who thrives on structure and adventure, that feels terrifying.

What does Noe see for his own future?

Noe is nonverbal, so understanding his wishes is trickier than just having a conversation. As his legal guardians, his dad and I make decisions for him that reflect his preferences, actions, and behaviors.

For example, as much as his dad and I crave an empty nest, we have ruled out a group home for now. He is still very attached to us. He still snuggles with his mama and has nightly tickle fights with his dad. But we hope to work up to that goal and find him a wonderful place to practice some independence.

There must be a parachute of off this cliff we are on

He would thrive in the right employment situation. Noe enjoys repetitive work and routine. He smiles and giggles with pride when he finishes a job. There is no one in our household more efficient or adept at handling our garbage and recycling.

There is not a cleaner, more organized room in our home than Noe’s bedroom. We hope to find a job coach that offers supported employment to help Noe build on these skills and serve his community.

For us, supported employment is Noe’s parachute off the cliff. It has the promise of helping adults with special needs make true contributions in their communities. While there are upfront costs to employ job coaches, higher competitive employment rates for individuals with special needs would ultimately lower SSI and medicaid payouts. And it’s hard to put a monetary value on the benefit of having these talented and resilient individuals working among us. It’s a worthy investment for everyone.

The vision and hopes we have for Noe’s future aren’t much different than those we have for his younger brother. Asher left for college this fall to prepare for an eventual career and to take steps towards independence.

We want our son who is on the autism spectrum to have the same opportunities as his brother

I want Noe to have similar opportunities, in ways that work best for him. I want him to experience the world without being tethered to his parents. I want him to feel the satisfaction that comes from putting on a name tag, doing a job well, and earning a paycheck.

This is the truth I’m learning as we transition Noe to adulthood: In American society, we’re pretty good at serving our special needs population, as long as they are kids. It makes no sense to prepare these kids in special education programs for a future they won’t get to experience. And we won’t realize the promise of full integration until we give our special needs population the support to live as full and equal members of their community.

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My Son Has Autism and I’ll Take Care of Him for the Rest of His Life

I’ve always thought of myself as a cool-headed mom.

You know, the kind of mom every teenager wants to have: chill, spontaneous, with the willingness to have fun.

“Oh, you and your friends want to cliff jump? Sure!”

“You’re gonna go to school in shorts in freezing temperatures? Alright!”

“Wait, you’re asking for a Mohawk? Let’s do it!”

But when my baby, my seventeen-year-old son Caleb, came to me with these words, “Mom, I’m enlisting,” you could hear the proverbial record scratch so loudly even Uncle Sam would’ve winced and covered his ears.

I knew my son would want to enlist someday

It’s not that I didn’t know this was coming. I did know. We called my son “Camo Caleb” from the time he was three because that’s all he wanted to wear from preschool to now. He’s seventeen as I write this.

But, enlist? As in the military? This isn’t what I envisioned. I thought his future would mean four years of college, a part-time job on the side, and a chance for him to even live at home if he decided to go to our local college and university. It was a Hallmark movie scene, all played out in my mind. Surely, this is what he wanted, too.

But it wasn’t. Not even remotely. 

“I want to enlist in the Marine Corps,” he said one glorious fall day last year.

I felt as if my heart tumbled out of my body

I felt like my heart and soul tumbled out of my body and to this day, I’m still looking for them. It’s not that I don’t want him in the military. Some of our best men and women are in the military, doing their jobs, risking their lives, and for all of us. I love our military. They are indispensable; they are our reason for freedom.

But, if I’m being truthful, I always assumed it would be someone else’s son to take this position; it was someone else’s daughter who would sign up to serve her country. It wouldn’t be my son. Not because he was too good, but because I couldn’t bear to let him go; to risk his life for the rest of America.

I didn’t want him to sign up to die.

Yes, this is histrionics in its ultimate form. And yet, he very well does have the chance to be in harm’s way for the entire time he’s enlisted. But, let’s be realistic here: everyone has the chance to be in harm’s way no matter where they are, or what they’re doing.

We live in a crazy world, with crazy people. Our EMS personnel, who work on the frontlines of every community in America risk their lives too. My husband is a fire captain. I know his risk all too well.

So, why would I want my son to enlist? Why would I want him to throw himself into danger? And was I supposed to be happy with this situation I found myself in?

I had to come to terms with my son’s decision to enlist

While my boy is still not old enough to enlist, (he will be very soon) I’ve been thinking, praying, and generally going a little nutty over his current potential endeavor. But, through this anxiety-ridden thought process, I’ve also come to terms with it all. 

It’s going to be okay. And here’s why.

1. It is his passion

When he talks about the Marines, when he explains boot camp and all the things he’ll have to go through, it makes my insides shake. But as I watch him tell me about his future potential job description, his face glows like he’s on fire with a purpose. His passion for this career is everything to him.

He’s talked to Marines, he’s researched his options; he knows what he’s getting into – things that I would never want to do – and he still wants to do it! As he’s said to me, “This makes me feel alive.” Enlisting in the Marines is his passion, and he’s not even there yet.

2. It is his decision 

Ultimately, I don’t want to squelch his deep longings. Being a Marine is all he’s ever wanted to do and if this is something he loves and wants to pursue, then who am I to stop him? The alternative is me saying no and him resenting me for the rest of his life. The other alternative is him enlisting regardless of what I say and me resenting him. That’s not an option. And I don’t want that for either of us.

It’s my job to raise him to the best of my ability until he’s an adult, and then the rest of the choices are on him. Letting him go as a functioning, strong, good adult is my job. But letting him make decisions (I’m unsure about) as an adult is still his. 

3. It is an honorable choice 

My cousin is in the Navy. He is one of the smartest and most hard-working people I know. My uncle was also in the Navy, and I have friends who are and were in the Army, Air Force, and National Guard. And guess what? All of them are amazing.

They are heroes; they have chosen a higher calling; they are willing to sacrifice their lives, to give up their safety to instead labor grueling, thankless jobs all within the military. I don’t know anything more honorable than this. 

4. It isn’t about me 

I’ve had to repeat this phrase to myself every single day since my world collapsed (okay, it didn’t, but you know what I mean). “It isn’t about me, it isn’t about me. It isn’t about me.”When I was seventeen, I made decisions without my parents’ approval or disapproval, and I’m doing alright. I’m doing better than alright.

So, I need to let him do the same. This is his future, his career, and his choice. It’s not about what I want, or what I envisioned, but about him pursuing both happiness and a career at the same time. Even if it’s not what I initially desired for him, I do want him to do what he longs to do.

I’ve had a year to adjust and I’ve come to terms with my son’s wishes

I’ve had a year to adjust to his desire to enlist. I haven’t changed my position: I don’t want him to enlist, but I know why he wants to. I get it. And my son hasn’t changed his position either. He could change his mind, and that’s fine. I’d be more than okay with it. But, I doubt that will happen. He’s going to enlist, and he’s going to potentially be in harm’s way.

But he’s also going to live a fulfilling life and career that he longs to pursue – and will continue to pursue – because it’s what’s captured his heart.

At the end of the day, that’s all I want for him, even if I’m still an emotional basket case over his decision. I want him to pursue his passion, and love what he does. If he finds a way to do that, in whatever he chooses, then I couldn’t be more proud of him. I’m going to be okay.

And maybe that will make me the cool-headed mom I’ve always hoped to be.

More Great Reading:

My Son’s in the Military and May Soon be in Harm’s Way

This is a letter written for our son’s 18th birthday by his dad. When my husband died just two years after my son’s 18th birthday, my son wanted this letter read aloud at his dad’s service so everyone could experience a different side of his father.

My husband Joe was an amazing person with a passion for living and a deep understanding of what it means to not live your life, your days, your hours to their fullest potential. Many at his memorial said that they wished they had the same words of advice for their own children on the precipice of adulthood.

Letter from a father to his son

To my son,

I think often of the legacy I leave for you. I wonder how memory will color me in your eyes: If you will look back at the lessons I tried to impart and find value in them or if you will throw them all aside and see them as meaningless nonsense held by a man who had no real idea about the world.

Though I cannot know what you will do with those lessons, I want to impart a few gifts of wisdom that I have accumulated in my years. My hope is that you will take them into your life to make it bigger than mine ever was.

Always protect those who are weaker than you

As you are already such a compassionate and caring person, I imagine you will be even more so as you grow. I have no doubt that you will be a man who is filled with a quiet strength that can only be born from a deep, confident concern for the world. Never lose that. I never had it and I want that you should never lose it. It makes you already greater than your father and that is all we ever want our sons to be.  

The world will try to convince you that your strength should be used to get what you want, and it should sometimes, but never at the expense of anyone else. Use your strength more often to help others get what they want. You are lucky to have been born and lived in the circumstances and situations to which you were born. I was not so lucky growing up. Appreciate your fortune.

Give often and deep from the stores of your blessings. Be a light to the world and never a shadow. Do not be afraid to throw a punch to protect the people who need it. It is not ideal but occasionally necessary that we must defend.

Never be afraid to make some mistakes 

You are going to make mistakes, my son. Some big and some small. Some that will fill you with regret, sadness, and linger like the smell of smoke in your clothes, and some that you will shake off like a cold. Never be afraid to move in the direction of failure. It is the direction of life changers.  

If your mistakes are small; laugh them off. You should always be comfortable laughing at yourself and never try to take this living too serious. If your mistakes are large, laugh them off and learn from them. Big or small, a mistake is not worth regretting.

Regrets are born in chances not taken, mistakes avoided because of comfort too-long-held. Be happy with your mistakes and learn the lessons they teach because most of your mistakes will end up being the regrets of people who never had the courage to make them.

Be a renaissance man 

Keep dancing. Learn how to tie a tie, how to fix a sink and how to mend a broken heart. Never be afraid to cry and never be scared of the tears of another. Read poetry and memorize the poems that strike your soul. Read everything, in fact, and keep a book with you always.

Keep your body fit and your mind sharp

Come to love and spend as much time as possible in the outdoors. Hiking. Running. Living. But come back to the world in a suit and a tie, with the manners of a prince. Live dangerous and free and full of passion. Travel often, everywhere, and be curious about those you encounter. Learn new languages and new customs and make friends with the world.

Be vulnerable

Love and respect your mother, and all women and people in fact, to the amount which is proper – fully and eternally. Expose your heart and soul to the world but never expect anyone to understand. Be the life of the party, but never be out of control. Know how to carry on a conversation and how to make the world laugh, but recognize the need for sincerity and give your shoulder often for others to cry upon.

Continue to appreciate the arts

Support lost causes. Be a philosopher of life and never think that you know enough about anything to be certain. Wear the cool, quiet confidence of a wolf and keep a close pack of loyal friends. Work with your hands and your heart and your mind and your soul and be the little bit of the everything that a man should be in this world.

Chase butterflies

There will come a time when the world will tell you that the childish things you so much enjoy now are no longer befitting a man of your age. When they tell you that, I want you to look them straight in the eyes, smile your charming smile and tell them that all the fun in all the world was invented from the pursuit of childish things and they can go f’ themselves.

Never stop laughing

Never give up the sillies, son. Never stop laughing your laugh. When your child is born, carry on our tradition of wrestling, tickle and spit fights, take downs, monsters, nerf gun fights, and dance parties. Teach them fun!

Do not ever let life convince you of its seriousness and always find a way to laugh and make others laugh. No one leaves this world alive, so find a reason to smile more than you frown and laugh more than you cry. The world will do it’s best to fit you in a mold, but I want you to wiggle and jiggle and burst and claw your way out; run naked and free, showing the world how fast you can run.

Don’t let the world steal your wonder and never let them ransack all the beautiful, brilliant things in your head. Chase those flying things – your dreams and ideas and passions. Those colorful things that come into your life that beg you to be pursued and appreciated. Ignore all the snares of a traditional life and find a life that fits you.

Rebel as often as necessary and as far as is required 

My single greatest want for you is that you cultivate a mind of rebellion. Intellectually, politically, socially and personally. Never be complacent with the status quo. Average will suck you into a hole and eat away your soul. Don’t let yourself fall into that trap. You are better than average. 

I want you to interrogate the universe and never be satisfied that you have found the truth. Never accept a rule simply because it exists. Never accept a reason simply because it was said. Never stop searching just because you finally find a belief you think you can trust. You will come to hold so many beliefs in your life and the truth you hold now will be a lie to you someday. So always be asking if it should be this way now.

But rebel with respect and rebel with reason. Raging against every inconsequential slight is not a way to rebellion. You must choose the battles that matter – the ones that mean the most for your heart and soul – and move unwaveringly in the direction of your conscience. You should never seek to harm in your rebellion, only to remedy injustice by the least aggressive means. In that you will become the type of revolutionary the world can come to appreciate. And if they can’t appreciate that sort of rebellion – f’ ‘em! They are the ones you are rebelling against.

Interrogate the universe

Grow up to be a thinker, my son. Come to reason well. Never let your sense of wonder be taken from you by the jaded misers of age and experience. Every moment of life is a wondrous explosion of improbability and uncertainty and to be here to experience it is a never-ending gift of fortune and fate.

Celebrate your luck in being involved in the beautiful randomness of the world and seek to know the patterns of living by always asking why. Engage in intellectual pursuit, not for the sake of knowing, but for the sake of living. The currency of living is philosophy; it above all things will make your life worth anything. Find it early, explore it often and embrace it fully. The ideas you find there will change your life and the life of those around you.

Never lose your sense of discovery and wonder. Never cease to be awed by the everything in the world and never stop asking what it all means and how you fit in. Be bold in your inquiry, but gentle with the answers. Do not lose yourself in your search.  And as we are mere mortal philosophers, we must be satisfied with the nothing that we will ever truly know, but we must constantly search for the something that we can know right now.

Fall in love as often as you can

If there is anything that you should look forward to in life it is love. You will find yourself pulled inexplicably towards someone that makes your heart thump-thump and your mind race. Jump into that deep, deep water as often as you can stand.  Despite the risk of drowning, it will always make a beautiful splash.

Yes, sometimes you do risk drowning, but to swim in the waters of love at all you must accept the occasional uncertainty of the depths. You cannot stay in the shallow waters of your heart and expect to find happiness; you must always go deeper. Deeper is where the beautiful fish swim.

And when your heart breaks, I want you to pick up the pieces and take the time to repair it and let the broken pieces be a part of your history with love. A part of your tapestry.

People you love will come and go, but you must never stop loving. Not ever. Giving our heart to another is the greatest gift that we have, but never believe that when someone trashes our gift that they are saying the quality of your love is lacking. Not everyone will appreciate your special kind of heart and your perfect kind of soul, but if you keep loving you will find the person who can.

Always remember that you are loved beyond words

I have said a lot in this letter to you, but I will never be able to say enough that will express the love I have for you. It is a never-ending, always growing, from-here-to-eternity, expanse of love that my heart holds for you.

If you remember nothing else of the wisdom and advice I have tried to give you, remember this above all things; you are so deeply loved in this world. Not just by me and your mother and your family and friends but by the universe itself. It conspires to make you amazing and it desires to see you in joy.

But when I have to leave you I want you to remember – my love for you will always be there because it has no way to escape. It is too much for the universe to remove. I will never be gone from you and you will never be gone from me. Always remember that.

This is not the only advice I want to give you, my son, but it is the general advice that will serve you well. You can take it or not.

My secret wish is that you should throw all my advice away, crumple it up and leave it sitting on your bedroom floor and go live – go live a life that is true for you.

And in many years – as you go out and live your life, as you go out and become your own man, you find a partner, you have children, you become a success – that you come home one day and find that old ball of advice still there. And you carefully uncrumple it and read through it with a smile, realizing that the wisdom stuck with you still and you became every inch the man I tried to help you be. And even better, you became so much more…and you erase my name from the letter and sign it with your own.

And you go back to your home and slide it under your son’s door. Because you will want the same for him that I always wanted for you. To be a light in this world that outshines all others.

Love eternally,

Dad

More Great Reading:

Dear Son, My Little Bit of Advice as You Head to College

Published: February 15, 2024 | Last Updated on: February 15, 2024
| by Hema

Today, we’re excited to share with you our special recipe, wholesome Bajra Spinach Idlis for tiny tummies. As parents and caregivers, we understand the challenge of ensuring our little ones get all the nutrition they need while keeping mealtime fun and enjoyable. That’s where Bajra (Pearl Millet) and Spinach come into play, combining to create not just a health-packed meal but also one that’s delicious and kid-approved!

Health Benefits of Bajra and Spinach

Bajra (Pearl Millet) and spinach are both incredibly nutritious foods, offering a wide range of health benefits, particularly beneficial for children. Integrating these foods into a child’s diet can contribute significantly to their overall health and development. Here are the key health benefits of bajra and spinach ;

• Bajra is a great source of essential nutrients such as protein, fiber, phosphorus, magnesium, and B vitamins. These nutrients are crucial for a child’s growth, helping in the development of bones, muscles, and brain function.
• Being a complex carbohydrate, bajra provides sustained energy, which is essential for active and growing children. This makes it an ideal food for breakfast or snacks, providing energy for their day-to-day activities.
• The high fiber content in bajra aids in digestion and regular bowel movements. This is particularly beneficial for children as it ensures a healthy digestive system, preventing issues like constipation.
• Spinach is loaded with vitamins A, C, and other antioxidants, which are known to boost the immune system. A strong immune system is essential for children to fend off infections and stay healthy.
• Iron is vital for the development of the brain and blood. Spinach, being rich in iron, is important for preventing anemia and promoting better cognitive development in children.
• Spinach contains lutein and zeaxanthin, two types of antioxidants that are known to promote eye health and prevent vision problems .
• Magnesium in bajra plays a crucial role in muscle and nerve function. It helps in muscle contraction and relaxation, which is important for children as they are constantly growing and developing.
• Bajra contains niacin (a form of Vitamin B3) which helps in lowering cholesterol, thereby supporting cardiovascular health.
• The vitamins and minerals in spinach are great for maintaining healthy skin and hair, which is a nice additional benefit for growing kids.

Recipe

Ingredients

• Bajra flour – 1 cup
• Curd – 1/2 cup
• Spinach – 1 bunch
• Grated carrot and chopped coriander leaves – 1/4 cup
• Cumin seeds – 1 tsp
• Salt as per taste

For tempering

• Asafoetida- a pinch
• Mustard Seeds- 1/4 tsp
• Chana + urad Daal- 1 tsp
• Curry leaves – few
• Oil – 1 tbsp

Method

• Mix Bajra flour with curd. Keep it aside.
• Boil spinach in salty water for 3-4 mins, then dip in icy water for 2 mins & grind.
• Mix this spinach puree, grated carrot, chopped coriander leaves to Bajra-curd mixture.
• Prepare tempering & add it to the batter.
• Adjust salt as per taste. Mix well.
• Grease idli stand & pour batter into it.
• Steam cook for 12-15 mins on high flame.
• Check with toothpick.
• Serve hot with Chutney.

Introducing your little ones to the wholesome goodness of Bajra Spinach Idlis is more than just about feeding them a nutritious meal. It’s about laying the foundation for healthy eating habits that will last a lifetime. By incorporating superfoods like bajra, carrot and spinach into their diet, you’re not only ensuring they receive a balance of essential nutrients but also cultivating a palate that appreciates diverse, wholesome foods. This recipe can be given to 1 year old babies .

Frequently Added Questions

Wholesome Bajra Spinach Idlis for Tiny Tummies

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Ingredients

• 1 cup Bajraflour
• 1/2 cup Curd
• 1 bunch Spinach
• 1/4 cup Grated carrot and chopped coriander
• 1 tsp Cuminseeds
• Salt as per taste
• For tempering
• Asafoetida- a pinch
• 1/2 tsp Mustard Seeds
• 1 tsp Chana + urad Daal
• Curry leaves – few
• 1 tsp Oil

Instructions

• Mix Bajra flour with curd. Keep it aside.

• Boil spinach in salty water for 3-4 mins, then dip in icywater for 2 mins & grind.

• Mix this spinach puree, grated carrot, chopped coriander leaves to Bajra-curd mixture.

• Prepare tempering & add it to the batter.

• Adjust salt as per taste. Mix well.

• Grease idli stand & pour batter into it.

• Steam cook for 12-15 mins on high flame.

• Check with toothpick.

• Serve hot with Chutney.

Cleaning is my bane. I can’t think of things I like doing less than cleaning… other than maybe going to the dentist. Or taxes. But it’s unfortunately necesssary. So anything that makes getting it done less scary is helpful. Here are a few things you can implement to maybe make things just a little less daunting.

There are some people that find doing chores around the home relaxing. However, for those of us that don’t enjoy cleaning or doing chores, the last thing we want is the idea of coming home to a mountain of housework after a long day at work. Even if you work from home or are at home looking after young children, the idea of doing housework all of the time quickly becomes depressing. 

The teenage years—when your world revolved around acne, braces, and emotions that felt like hurricanes. Remember those days? The awkwardness, the confusion, and the question of why your locker seemed to double as a trash can for chewed gum.

Now, fast forward to today’s teenagers. They are grappling with the usual adolescent challenges and navigating a digital world fraught with social media fame (or shame), soaring academic expectations, and a relentless barrage of curveballs from life itself.

It’s no wonder they sometimes resemble ticking time bombs, trying to balance flaming chainsaws while riding a unicycle over a shark tank (albeit with slightly less dramatic language).

You’re not alone in this emotional upheaval as a parent, guardian, or concerned adult. You can be the lighthouse guiding them through the storm. And guess what? You’ve got what it takes!

Is your teenager giving you a hard time with mood swings and struggles? Don’t worry; here is a secret recipe for dealing with grumpy adolescents.

Forget therapy jargon; think of this as equipping your teen with secret weapons. We’re discussing cool stuff like managing stress, boosting happiness, and mastering emotions.

The famous author and psychologist Dr. Seuss once said,

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose.”

Let’s help your teen steer themselves toward happiness and success!

Here’s a guide for you on supporting your teen’s emotional well-being—a partner on this bumpy journey, complete with insights, practical tips, and just enough humor to keep things light (because, the fact is, parenting teenagers can be downright hilarious, even in the midst of head banging moments).

Be a listening ear for them

“The greatest gift you can give your children is your time and attention.” – Oprah Winfrey

The biggest reason for teens’ frustration is the feeling of not being heard. A little undivided attention, listening to them, making eye contact, and talking about their thoughts and emotions reflect that you are interested in their lives and they matter.

Celebrate small milestones

like you and me, this little human being likes to be appreciated and encouraged. Making a big fuss out of small victories like learning to cope with emotion or letting go of the fear of something can help your teens in extraordinary ways.

Be an example

Actions speak louder than words. If you want your teen to adopt effective learning, teach them by doing things yourself. You can start a new hobby to cope with emotional stress or calm your emotions and show them how effective this method is.

No shame in asking for help

Seeking professional help is a stigma. Your teens need to be educated in this regard. They need to realize the power of practical help when received timely.

Super Skills With CBT & DBT

“The mind is everything. What you think you become.” – Buddha

CBT and DBT are like secret training manuals for emotional well-being. Here are some cool moves your teen can master:

Thought-Busting with Records

Negative thoughts can be pesky villains. Teach them to identify and challenge these thoughts using “Thought Records.” It’s like writing down the situation, the emotion, the evil thought, and evidence for and against it and then rewriting it with a more realistic and helpful one. Bye-bye, negativity!

Riding the Wave of Emotions

When emotions threaten to overwhelm, equip them with IMPROVE, a coping strategy like a magic surfboard. It stands for Imagery (create a calming mental picture), Meaning (find purpose in the situation), Prayer (connect with their spirituality), Relaxation (practice calming techniques), One thing at a time (focus on the present), Vacation (take a mental break), and Encouragement (offer self-compassion and positive affirmations).

Communication

Communication is the key, and with these techniques you can make your teen communicate like a pro.

DEAR MAN is a DBT technique (and an acronym) that teaches a person to describe the situation clearly and express feelings. He needs to be honest, assert requests directly but respectfully, reinforce positive behavior, stay mindful of their goal, appear confident, and negotiate when required to find win-win solutions.

Taming the Craving Monster

Cravings can be tempting, but giving in can lead to trouble. Urge Surfing is a technique that enables you to watch your urges rise and fall like waves. It can teach kids to ride out these urges without acting impulsively. It’s like noticing the urge, observing it without judgment, letting it pass like a wave, and avoiding giving in.

Patience is Your Power

“Let your kids know that you love them more than anything in the world. Let them know that you are proud of them no matter what.” – Michael Levine

Mastering these skills takes time and practice. Celebrate progress, no matter how small, and offer support through setbacks.

Personalize the training

“Families are like fingerprints – uniquely different, yet forever connected.” – John F. Kennedy

The moment you realize your teen is an individual and unique person, half the battle is won. You need to acknowledge your teen’s individuality and hence his likes, dislikes, preferences, and the exceptional road map to his success.

Don’t hesitate to ask for guidance

It is imperative to mention this repeatedly; you cannot do this alone, and don’t be overwhelmed by the bumps in your journey. Seek help from professionals in CBT and DBT. They will simplify your and your teens’ journeys with bespoke modules and specialized pieces of training.

Just like a plant grows and blooms in favorable conditions, if you nurture your teen with love, care, empathy, understanding, and support, there is no way your teen cannot breeze through the difficulties of teenage life. Techniques like CBT and DBT act as nutrient-rich fertilizers to fuel the growth and blooming process.

Do you use DBT or CBT skills in your parenting? Which DBT or CBT skill do you find most useful? Or does this sound like something you’d want to learn?

Presidents Day may be next Monday, but the deals are already live at retailers including Amazon, PB Teen, Best Buy, and Home Depot. Typically, Presidents Day sales bring HUGE price drops on appliances and mattresses. But if you’re not in the market for a new refrigerator, you can still find great price drops on tech products and some helpful products for dorm rooms (like a new mattress topper!)

We’ve rounded up some of the best deals we’ve found so far and some Presidents Day sales that we think are worth shopping for. These deals are only good until Monday, February 19, so we recommend snagging these amazing prices before it’s too late. Since it’s early, we’ll also be updating this post with new deals as we find them, so we recommend checking back to see if there’s anything you’ve had your eye on! Happy shopping!

Note: We are a reader-supported site and receive compensation from purchases made through some of the links in this post.

Our 5 Favorite Presidents Day Deals at a Glance

1. Anker Nano Portable Charger for iPhone – $20.79 at Amazon (Originally $25.99)
2. LUCID 2 Inch Mattress Topper –  $36.54 at Amazon (Originally $42.99)
3. Utopia Bedding Down Alternative Twin XL Comforter – $19.97 at Amazon (Originally $26.99)
4. Apple AirPods Pro (2nd Generation) – $189.99 at Amazon (Originally $249)
5. Crane Drop Ultrasonic Cool Mist Humidifier – $39.86 at Walmart (Originally $55.01)

Our Favorite Retailers Having President’s Day Sales

Best Presidents Day Mattress and Bedding Sales

Best Presidents Day Home Sales

Best Presidents Day Tech Sales

Prices were accurate at time of publishing.

I steadied my father’s hand on a fork to slowly lift a bite of potato. At that same oak table, he sat in his designated head-of-the-table chair and taught me manners before he started showing signs of the same kind of dementia Bruce Willis has, when I was 13. Now I was feeding him in my mid-twenties, he in his late seventies.

As a 40-year-old mom with 5 children of my own, living in California, I came to visit the home I’d grown up in, in a Seattle suburb. It felt like stepping into another lifetime, mentally and physically.

Being there now, facing the table where I had eaten a hundred dinners, and rushed through breakfast every morning before school, I felt unsettled. I bit my lip thinking about the life that unfolded around this swirly-grained oval next to a modest kitchen with Formica counters and fluorescent lights, built in the 70’s before expansive floor plans of granite and dimmable lights.

Our family life revolved around our kitchen table

Growing up, I heard things like, “One of you is going to get this table someday!” I heard the features of it so many times I actually believed I would surely be lucky to get this 80’s country-décor treasure with clawed feet and chairs. It was ceremonial when we moved our rustic round picnic table and benches outside and finally replaced it with inside furniture when I was in elementary school.

There were rules for this new show piece. We had to “keep it nice.” My mother insisted on keeping it covered with a pad and tablecloth most of the time. I was trained to quickly wipe away a spill if the wood were exposed so as to not damage the wood. I learned to polish it with orange oil and a dust rag.

We didn’t want the world to see what was happening in our family

I covered it soon after if we used placemats for a particular event and was careful not to bump our giant Kirby vacuum into the legs. We wouldn’t want it to get scratched or show wear, would we? 

Somehow, something 30 years old still looked new underneath the tablecloth. If I’d known it was going to be the last time I was in that home, I might’ve spent even just a few more minutes studying it. I knew the effort it took to keep up the table’s appearance which became a metaphor for how we were expected to appear to others. I wanted to remember what it looked like. 

My dad withered from a vibrant school principal into a silent shell of himself as his frontal temporal dementia progressed. As a girl, I comforted myself with warm homemade cookies in one of the bulky chairs, confused as my dad unintentionally started showing irritability and depression-like symptoms of dementia that didn’t take long to take over his personality.

His lack of interest in me left a chill in my chest. He no longer seemed interested in me and had little patience for a giggly teen girl who was often described as a “valley girl,” because of how I drew out my words.

We children became the caregivers

My brother and sister and I switched our roles from children to caregivers from the time we were teens. There were unwritten rules- we acted like everything was fine to others while our world at home unraveled. As a teen, there were times I’d drop my utensil and rush from the table in a panic because my dad found the car keys.

I’d try to block the front door and tell him he couldn’t drive, but he’d get out anyway. He was never physically abusive and would never think to hit me, but he was my dad. I’d eventually step away, ashamed. It felt like it would be my fault if he hurt anyone in a crash, and I’d never tell anyone outside our family of these situations. I’d look out the window, relieved when I’d finally see the headlights coming down our street in the dark. 

Our mother was too young to have to take care of her husband

Our mother probably felt too young for this fate, as she continued to work as a middle school teacher, and longed to fit in with church friends that were her age, not geriatric care of her husband, 21 years her senior.

I moved across the country twice in my twenties to escape the emotional burden of caregiving. When I finally could afford to rent an apartment of my own, I never set up a table to eat at and when people came over, we’d eat on the couch and break all the etiquette rules. Something deep inside me rebelled against caring what other people thought. 

Reset by time and distance living in a different state, I tenderly surveyed the 4-bedroom house I grew up in that had become more like a museum with a collection of 40 years of living. The table, draped in seasonally themed covers, was one uncluttered spot we gathered, and I learned to keep the conversation from veering off into uncomfortable topics and make light of what we were going through.

When my mother sold our childhood home, my siblings and I didn’t want the table. All the effort it took to keep that oak looking shiny by covering it up made me laugh. I’ll never know who was lucky enough to get it. That table knew all our secrets, and I was happy to leave that heavy piece of furniture in the past.

In my new California home, I had splurged on a sleek, gray-stained wood table for my own growing family. I instinctively bought a tablecloth for it but pulled it off the day after.

My toddlers were banging their sippy cups on it and my older children scratched it with forks and craft supplies. I could see scuffs and wear on the table within weeks of purchasing it, but I didn’t want to hide any of it. Unlike my mother, I wanted to see the wear and tear of life on my children, which were often the result of not just hard moments, but joy.

I hope that our modern table sets the tone for our family ethos

My hope is that our modern style table reflects my desire to let what I can and can’t control just be what it is, inside our home and to others– the joy, grief and flaws. I can see how my mother must have been overwhelmed by 3 teenagers and caregiving. Her emotional needs could be overwhelming to me as a teen and young adult—but I helped prop up the image she wanted to portray.

When I moved back to Seattle for the last time, I was made to feel guilty that the hours I spent with my parents were not enough, and I often felt seen as a child, rather than the independent adult I had become. It was at that same table we made funeral and memorial service plans for my dad when he finally passed.

It was time to move forward.

I don’t expect my kids to want my kitchen table when the time comes

I don’t expect any of my kids to want our gray table, or any of my furniture that will probably look “so 2020’s” to them someday. Heck, I even get sick of my own style sometimes. Our table shows traces of nights helping with homework, books read that land in breakfast syrup, friends and family that squeeze around it for birthday cake, slime and glitter splattered across it mixed with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

There is laughter, arguing, announcing family news and the eww-gross-I-can’t-watch-him-eat moments and me yelling at them to clear the table for the 100th time. This is my moment to be a mom and I know I’ll mess up, but I’ll certainly try my best.

Protecting our family image is not my goal

Protecting how our family looks to others at the cost of honesty during times of sorrow and struggle? I know how bad that felt– and thankfully there is so much more acceptance and support for brain diseases like dementia and counseling services that were considered taboo one generation ago.

I’ve got a tween who needs to vent about an F on a math test over some chips and queso, and a teen who needs me to help her hot glue gun a castle for history. It’s all happening this evening at our table. 

I’ll need my children to extend grace for all the mistakes I will make as their mom, but hopefully we can talk about it over dinner.

More Great Reading:

Finding My Way Through the Grief of Losing My Mom