The SAHM Experiment: I really suck at being a mom

I don't have enough fingers to count the amount of times today that I yelled at my 3.5 year old to "just leave me alone, I'm trying to do something!"

This kid, who is so aggressively extroverted and who has the imagination of a science-fiction writer thrown in a blender with a fantasy writer, just wanted some attention. He always wants my attention. He never stops talking, even when I'm not in the room. I find him talking to himself frequently when I'm not around, especially if I'm in a bad mood. I am 99 percent positive he is talking to me, but he feels so bad when I growl, "What do you want?!" that he just says he's talking to himself.

During this whole SAHM Experiment so far (we're technically on week #4), I've had some amazing days and I've had some really lousy, "Why am I filled with so much rage toward such tiny people?" moments. It's been demoralizing, embarrassing, and it's given me a terrible bounty of guilt in which I continue to ask myself, "Seriously, you're a mother?"

The thing is, I can easily pinpoint why I suck at being a mom sometimes. It's easy for me to know when I'm going to lose my mind and be a total jerk to my kids. The one thing that causes me to go off the handle and treat my kids like they're employees in The Devil Wears Prada?

Work.

And it's not even like it's earth-shattering, deadline-driven work. It's not like I'm racing to cure cancer or something. It's "Oh did you post this to Facebook?" or "Hey can you let us know when you can finish that flyer?"

Yes, people have businesses to run and livelihoods to consider, but at the end of the day? None of this is an emergency. These adult people won't remember in a month whether a tweet went out at noon or if a Facebook event got posted two weeks prior to the even or three weeks prior to the event.

But my kids? My kids. Sigh.

I'll be honest in that I don't remember much about my childhood. The moments I start remembering are the ones that are painful, hurtful, the ones that make me angry. Why is this? I don't really know. Did I have a terrible childhood? I don't think so. My mom stayed home with us, my dad had a decent job, and we were comfortably middle class until I was in middle school. After that, I remember everything, but what brooding, angsty teenager doesn't?

I have so many regrets about the past two weeks. Not so many about the two weeks we were in England because I was completely and utterly shut off those weeks. I didn't dwell on Facebook (I just plastered photos of my awesome trip) or Twitter, and I didn't obsessively fall down the Wikipedia rabbit hole. I conversed, I schlepped, I read, I watched British quiz shows, I relaxed, I just was. I was with my family. And it was good. I had patience, I had kindness, I had understanding.

I didn't once tell my kids to shut up because I was working and just needed to finish this one ... last ... thing.

So why do I struggle to prioritize? Why did I sit on my computer this morning instead of sitting at the table while the kids chowed down? Why did I fidget with my phone nervously checking emails instead of ignoring my phone and engaging my kids in something they wanted to do? Why am I so anxious all the time about whether there's something I'm supposed to be doing but I'm not?

I never wanted kids. I always remind people of that. I was always career-minded, career-driven. In one timeline, I would have been on the copy desk at The New York Times by now. Maybe even running the show. Unmarried, living in midtown, my spare time spent in coffee shops and book stores.

When I met Mr. T that all changed. I wanted kids, I don't know why. I wanted kids and to be someone important and influential. I wanted to be a career woman with kids and a happy husband and a perpetually clean house and at some point I was convinced I could do and have all of those things.

What a crock.

The thing is, you can't have it all. Because when you try to have it all, something, someone, usually gets left behind. As I stay home with my kids, all day every day, and as I flee the moment my husband comes home when I can in order to regain some sense of who I am, and as I cry in the car listening to "Glycerine" by Bush and thinking of high school and how I wanted so desperately to be a writer someday ... I realize that I have to stop running at full speed.

I'm 33, almost 34. I've got time. I can't rush through it all and miss something, or someone. I don't want to scream at my kids because my attention is misplaced. I don't want them to see me that way. I want to be able to capture every ridiculous moment and second of who they are.

Yesterday, Little T was eating ants in the backyard. Today, she ate sand at the park and then came home to eat day-old macaroni off the floor. She loves having her neck tickled and kissed and she does laps in the house like it's going out of style. She's so smart. You can ask her to do anything, and she knows exactly how and what to do. "Go get your shoes," "Go find your doggy," "Take a drink of water, please." She's going to rule the world, she is.

Today, Asher told me a story about a "Very Tired Mommy" and her extravagant adventures kicking things, and it somehow ended up with a duck and a policeman. We played a game where he put a Target diaper box on his head and we pretended it was his house, so I'd knock on the door with a Duplo Joker figurine and the Joker would try to sneak his way in. He thought it was hilarious and we did the same thing, over and over, for a half-hour. He's brilliant, my son, creative and silly to excess.

I can't imagine missing out on who my kids are now. I can't wait to someday tell them about the way they were. I just hope they look back and, if they remember, they can say I was good to them. The best I could be.

Ask Chaviva Anything: The Children Edition

In this edition of Ask Chaviva Anything, I've got some children-related queries from blog readers.

What is iBoy like?

I'd like to say that iBoy is like any other nearly 10 year old out there, but this is a kid who loves tofu and broccoli ("little trees!"). He loves listening to his dad read Shakespeare (in a kid-friendly text, of course), and doesn't demand to watch cartoons and movies as much as he demands games like Taki. He's a very emotional kid who is aware of hurting other people's feelings -- almost to a fault -- but he also knows how to push boundaries like any other kid his age. He's just starting to get really good at reading English and helps me out with Hebrew while I help him out with Hebrew, too! He hates getting up in the morning, has to be reminded to brush his teeth, and is always eager to help when anything is going on in the kitchen. He's a prince who snores like a trucker but will cuddle up with his dad like he is the only thing that belongs in that space.

On a down day, he's the kind of kid who would go out of his way to make you smile with a hug or joke. He's really something special (just like his dad, who he is soooooooooo much like). Does he sound like every other 10 year old you know? Oh, and he loves to draw, which makes him a kid after my own heart. While in the UK I purchased him this amazing book full of things to draw, to fill in, and to get creative with. He kept asking, "Can I draw it like this?" to which I responded, "Kid, it's your book! You can draw and explore anything you want!"

You have mentioned every now and then about wanting lots of kids.  I know that is kind of the norm among Orthodox families but wonder if it's also just something you've always wanted (lots of kids).  I always wanted four kids but after two I may have met my match!  

It's funny how up and down I've been about wanting children. Most of my life, I wanted children (a few) because I was lucky enough to have a little brother who is nine years younger than me that I got to help raise. But then, while I was married and divorced, I had no desire to have children. I became really disenfranchised (so lame and stereotypical, I know) while I was incredibly depressed and decided not to have any children. The fear of passing on the depression and anxiety that I was dealing with, not to mention my fears of how I'll be with my children because of how I grew up (that fear we all have) drove me to vow to never have kids.

And then? I met Mr. T. We met, got engaged 10 days later, and if I had had my way, I would have been married instantly and with child at this point, folks! There's something about being with the right person at the right time that just punches you in the face and says "Be a mom, darn't!"

I know what you're thinking -- I'm already in the role of offering female support and guidance for a kid in my life, so that should be something, right? True, I'm getting a certain sense of satisfaction making delicious nosh for this amazing child in my life, helping put his healthy lunches together, watching him play soccer with friends, reading him Hasidic stories and him asking for more ...

But having your own child is something uniquely special. I know I'll feel it more when I do get pregnant and have my own child with Mr. T, but at this moment, I'm starting to feel where that thin line exists. There's a lot to be said about being a woman marrying a man with a child versus a man marrying a woman with a child. I'm debating on whether to write it up for Kveller.com and seeing if they'll start publishing me. I think I'm going to end up with a lot to say about parenting.

As you settle into married life and seek to start a family of your own, I wonder; as an Orthodox Jewish woman, how would you respond if your son or daughter told you that they were gay/lesbian?

This is a great question with a short answer. I was raised in a household where -- by and large -- I was allowed to explore the life that I thought was good for me. Mind you, I had a very vanilla childhood and never broke the rules, drank, smoked, or anything until I was in college and the depths of the newspaper world sucked me in and turned me into a temporary alcoholic (seriously, I'm kidding). Mr. T also was given a lot of freedom to be a wild and unique individual (and believe me, he was). As a result, if there's one thing that Judaism teaches that has been so potent for me over the past few years is that when someone lives a life that we do not necessarily agree with, we're meant to pull that person closer, not push them away (like most people do). Your children will always be your children, nothing changes that. Nothing. Life is short, you only have one family, and I'm going to be as strong as possible to do everything to make sure my children know how much they're loved, no matter who they are or what they do. 

Okay. That was a lengthy post. So much more to say about parenting and children! Have questions? Just ask!

Can You Tell Me How to Get, How to Get to Shalom Sesame?

I had the pleasure of visiting Sesame Street last week.

No, I didn't take something or get food poisoning, I visited the Sesame Street Workshop in NYC for a screening of brand new episodes of everyone's favorite mesh of English and Hebrew and Israeli and American: Shalom Sesame! It was quite a trip, and I'm really wishing I had some little kids under my apron to share the awesomeness with, but, for now, I'll have to share it with y'all and play on your nostalgia and perhaps convince a few of you that the new Shalom Sesame will delight your own kids.

Photo op! Eeee!

The moment I stepped out of the elevator, I was struck by the color. It was a Crayola explosion, primary colors everywhere, and on the sconces in the elevator bay? All of the characters we love, like Elmo and Cookie Monster and Bert and Ernie. Our host came out and ushered me to a photo op with Oscar the Grouch (color me star struck), and then into the screen room with lots of yummy nosh from Our Most Favorite in NYC. The meal was complete with Sesame Street juice boxes, which made me feel nostalgically child-like. And then? The screening of an episode in which Grover learns Hebrew.

The new Shalom Sesame is a 12-part series, of which two of the DVDs are out, including a Chanukah episode (which was in our goodie bag upon leaving!). The entire series revolves around Anneliese van der Pol (of That's So Raven fame) and Grover heading off to Israel and their adventures in the land and on Rachov Sumsum. In the episode we screened, Grovery learns some of the basics like boker tov and mishpacha from his friends on the Rachov, and the events there are interspersed with cartoon clips on family, counting by none other than the Count, and a segment on the aleph-bet. Here's a preview of the first episode:




The characters are crossovers from the Israeli version of Sesame Street (Rachov Sumsum), but there are some new characters. Kippi, that gigantic porcupine, is no longer on Shalom Sesame, but there are characters like Avigail, Moshe Oofnik (the Israeli Oscar the Grouch), Brosh, and Mahboub. There's also a new cast of human characters, including Anneliese, Boris, Kobi, Lemlem, and Shoshana. I'd say that Shalom Sesame covered all their basis with that cast, as it appears to include American, Israeli, Ethiopian, and Russian Jews!

But I'm sure you're wondering what I thought, right? As someone with no kids but a box full of toys in her apartment so kids will come visit, I have to say that I really enjoyed the episode we screened, especially because in my Hebrew classes at UConn, we watched old Shalom Sesame episodes that were seriously outdated and needing revamping. I laughed -- a lot -- more than I thought I would, and so did most of the adults in the room. There were a few kids there, and they were bobbing along to the music and laughing at the funny moments just as much as the adults.

My only beef -- or question -- after viewing this episode and anticipating the rest is the presentation of the traditional family motif. I'll admit I really don't know how kids programming folks address this issue, but there was a segment on family and what makes up a family, which included both a segment with real people and a cartoon version (with some gnarly music with kids singing like 80s hairband stars). The songs presented used the, I have a father, a mother, and XX siblings -- the standard family unit -- as the basis for the song. There was a brief mention in both versions (human and cartoon) of a family with a grandmother, a mother, and the kid, but no single-parent households existed. No step-parents. No grandparents-only. No dad-only. I was really uncomfortable during this segment, and I'll be honest I'm not really sure why. My parents are still married, and I have two brothers. I am the "traditional," American family unit. But I know a lot -- a lot -- of people who come from the real traditional family unit nowadays: single parents raising several kids, grandparents raising kids, fathers raising kids, mothers raising kids, etc. What do you guys think -- should shows like Sesame Street give this more play?

After all, the point of this kind of programming is for kids to see themselves on the screen, right? To put themselves onto Rachov SumSum and in the shoes of Grover learning Hebrew!

But I don't want this to be heavy. I really really loved my time at Sesame Workshop, and the folks there were so warm and welcoming. I have to think that working in such a colorful environment must have to keep morale higher than a kite. I'm really excited to see the rest of the series, and, I'm also really excited to open up the Chanukah episode ... Tuvia and I are the kind of people who -- even at our age -- enjoy the simpler, child-like things in life. I mean, come on, I keep Super Grover in my car at all times, just in case, you know, I need a hero.

Stay tuned for more on Shalom Sesame, and be sure to keep checking back at their website www.ShalomSesame.org for plenty of resources, games, and educational materials for kids, adults, and educators. You can purchase the first two episodes and pre-order the rest by clicking here. I'm really excited to see how educators and parents use the awesome tools that are coming up on the website, which should be launched soon enough. There are aleph-bet games, resources, e-cards, and more. I'll be sure to post when the website goes live, so stay tuned!