Honey, please pass the turkey to your dad’s new wife

Negotiating the holidays for “custom made” families can be challenging. If you’ve read my blog before you know I don’t like the term “broken” families. Nor do I choose to use “divorced” or “blended.”  My term of choice is “custom made.” This takes into account not only the family made by marriage, divorce and remarriage, but the family that we’ve made because there are simply people in our lives that we love. “Custom made” includes my extra children, the ones I didn’t give birth to but love all the same. It also includes my dearest friends, who are more like family to me than most of my blood relatives. Another term is “family of choice” which in today’s complicated world covers so many of our situations. So how do we accommodate our non-traditional families during the holiday season? How do we create memories when our families look nothing like the families in the holiday television specials?

My own parents were wonderful at this. I know it took time. The first few years after they separated were awkward, to say the least. It was the 1970s. Divorce was not common, yet somehow, my parents came up with a plan that worked for our family. By the time I was in high school, I spent holidays with my mother, my father, my step-mother, my step-mother’s x-husband, and all of the children that belonged to each. Was it easy? I’m sure it wasn’t. It certainly wasn't what they planned when they first had children. Was it worth it, absolutely!

Now I know every situation is different and every family is different. Spending holidays together will not work for everyone. So if you can’t pull it off, if you are still too hurt or too angry, then don’t try it. It is much better to have happy holidays apart than miserable times together. The holidays, for me, were always about making wonderful memories for my children. Some of those memories have been traditional and some have been unconventional but overall, the majority of them have been happy. As a family we’ve learned to deal with divorce, remarriage, death, separation and new relationships. We’ve cooked fresh game and we’ve made To-furkey, depending on the guest list. Believe me, there have been uncomfortable moments for my children and I as we negotiated holidays with their father and myself and their step-father. There have been many holidays that I invited my x-husband, and his youngest child (their baby sister) to join us for opening presents on Christmas morning. Every time I did, while sometimes awkward, it was always very much worth it. In fact, I have included my children’s half-sister in so many family events that she has grown up calling me “auntie.”

So what do you do if this is your family’s first holiday after a major life change? My advice is to hang on to some old traditions but more importantly, try to be flexible. Make new traditions. If the kids are spending time away, give them some of the family decorations so they can put them up at the other parent’s house. If you have moved to a new place, buy yourself new decorations to go with your new traditions. Did your family always cut a real tree and can't anymore because you are in a new apartment? Why don’t you start a different tradition and go out to your favorite place for waffles or ice cream sundaes, before decorating the new, “custom made” tree.

Chances are if you are sharing time with your children’s other parent, they won't be with you during the entire holiday. Whatever you do, do NOT be alone! Why not throw a party, invite over your new neighbors, go out to eat someplace non-traditional, or spend the day volunteering at a local shelter or food pantry. Maybe you could volunteer with your kids. Pick a child's name off a local angel tree and shop together for someone who is less fortunate. Concentrating on making someone else's holiday better will take their minds off anything they feel might be missing from their own. Whatever you do, go out of your way to be festive; dress up, cheer up! The rest of your life doesn’t look anything like those families on TV, why would you expect your holidays to? The season will be whatever you make it. Make it one full of wonderful memories! 

This piece was originally published on the Bangor Daily News website, November 16, 2011. 

On Muffin Tops, Grudges and Excess Baggage

. . . or how I sacrificed my waistline for science.

Last winter, I conducted a thorough, scientific study. In fact, I proved, without a doubt, that there is a direct correlation between muffins and muffin-tops. It was a long and rigorous experiment, but I stuck with it . . . for science. No, I am not able to reveal the downtown eateries who participated in this study, those devilish dealers of delectable baked goods. Oh the warm, fragrant Cranberry Orange, the tart Lemon Blueberry with the little drizzle of frosting, the Pumpkin Chocolate-Chip, and the ever delightful and always tempting French Toast flavored,  how you all served me well in my thoroughly exhausting research.

In case you are not familiar with the term “muffin-top” this would be the little fold of extra, um, well let’s just call it a little “extra-me,” that was spilling over the top of my jeans. I know, I know, it’s not a pleasant thought but this is reality. All of us, in middle age, carry a little more weight around with us than we used to. Part of the problem is our changing bodies and slower metabolisms.  Another contributing factor may be the stress from our busy lives. I am guilty of being a stress eater. If life is giving me a hard time, you will find me melting cheese on whatever I find in the kitchen. Yet, I’m learning to think about what I eat in a different way. How is it feeding my body? How is it feeding my soul?

Although I’ve always eaten reasonably healthy, with middle-age comes the need to pay even closer attention. Should I eat meat and dairy? (Yes, I’m still eating dairy, no, I’m no longer eating meat). Can I afford to eat organic? (I can’t always afford to, but at least try to buy local and fresh). Am I getting enough calcium? (Yes, I am, hence the dairy). Should I take supplements? What about herbs and fish oil? There is so much more to think about these days when we decide what we are going to eat. I cook from scratch whenever possible, read every label when it’s not! I’ve also started keeping a food journal. No one else sees it, but it helps me keep track of what I’m eating, and how I’m feeling. I have to admit I’m feeling better, especially since giving up meat last spring and incorporating considerably more fresh vegetables. It’s hard to believe that many of us, before we knew better, survived a childhood filled with Hostess Cupcakes and bologna and ketchup sandwiches.

I try to remember to strike a balance. It is important to be aware of what I’m eating, but it is also important to enjoy life as well. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to be more kind to myself. We can’t give up everything.  We just need to learn to enjoy the things we love in moderation. I need also to accept that no amount of dieting or exercising will bring my body back to the way it was when I was 25 and that’s okay! I’ve grown so much since I was that age, and my life is so much richer now.  A little fresh fruit and Greek yogurt, a little exercise, and every now and again, something warm and sweet with my coffee and my life is more balanced, more whole.

I realized something else this week; besides carrying a few extra pounds in my forties I am also carrying some old baggage. I am hanging on to old grudges. If I have been hurt or offended, I am still carrying it around. Oh it may be small, but I’ve still got it. I’ve got it somewhere here, in the bottom of my Big Mom Pocketbook (disguised as a really cool, hip bag from Mexicali Blues but we all know it is just a Big Mom Pocketbook). If it was a really large offense, something that really hurt, I’m dragging it behind me like Linus’ blanket in Peanuts. At first, it was warm and comforting and no one minded if I carried it for a while, they understood. Now, it’s become dirty, smelly and offensive to others but I still drag it behind me, clutching it so tightly sometimes my knuckles are white.

This winter, I think I’ll do better. We have to be conscious of how we take care of ourselves, inside and out. It's okay to carry a little bit around with you. Having a few extra pounds and a few unresolved issues is just part of being grown up, middle aged, and having lived a rich, interesting life but too much weighs us down. It holds us back. It keeps us from moving forward. Carrying around extra weight is not good for us. It is not good for our hearts, and it's not good for our souls. We need to let go of our regrets so our hands are free to reach for our futures!

The old baggage has served its purpose. We need to look at it closely, examine all the pockets. Take out every lesson and make sure we didn't leave anything good in there. Then just get rid of it, let it go! Sometimes it takes time and courage. We may not always be ready. There are a few things at the bottom of my Big Mom Pocketbook I'm not ready to look at yet, but I think I’m ready to drop this old Linus blanket off into the dumpster out back. Then, maybe I’ll do some yoga and or take a long walk just to make up for the sweet, warm, fresh muffin that might be waiting for me downtown tomorrow morning. I’m no longer regretting the past . . . or an occasional muffin!

This piece was originally published on the Bangor Daily News website, November 10, 2011. 

On Aging with Grace and Chutzpah!

I have always wanted to be an old lady. (Of course, the closer I get the less appealing it is some days). No, I have not always wanted grey hair, sagging skin and fading eyesight. What I have wanted is what I have seen, so often, reflected in the older women in my life, both family and dear friends. It is peace, calmness, and a confidence in the fact that whatever life throws at them, they can handle it, because they have already, so many times. It is a faith in a power greater than themselves and a deep belief that one way or another things always, somehow, work out. It is the ability to stop worrying about the little things and to rest on the accomplishments of a life well lived. It is chutzpah! Yes, I want to be that eccentric old lady. You know, the old lady in the famous poem “Warning” written by Jenny Joseph in England in 1961.

I will never forget the first time I read that poem. I thought immediately of my grandmother, Bertha, a woman who had survived so much and still enjoyed her life to the fullest. Even in her eighties she would never think of leaving the house without her lipstick and earrings! When I was born, my mother was ill for a long time, and my grandmother took over my care. When I was seven, my parents divorced and my mother went back to work full-time (a very brave life choice in the 1970s). My grandmother, again, was there for me every day after school. When I was young and newly married, my grandmother could no longer care for herself, and I, without thought, jumped in. She lived with our family for the last three years of her life. I remember one day she told me that when I was just a little girl, I had promised her that I would take care of her when she was old, because she had always taken care of me. She said she wondered at the time if that would really happen, and it did. That’s the way it is supposed to work isn’t it? Ideally, that is what families do.

Yet today, families are spread out. Most of us no longer live in the towns we grew up in. Often children only see grandparents a few times year. Sometimes grandparents are the ones who have picked up and left, retiring to a more moderate climate. Decisions about how best to care for our parents in their older years have become so much more complicated than just moving them into the family home, as we so often did in years past. My own mother is now getting to that age. She moved to Maine when she retired, nine years ago this week, to be nearer my children and I. She and I have talked often about what we will do when she is no longer comfortable living on her own, how we will combine our tiny city apartments and look out for each other. I try to see her future, and hope to make it an easy transition for her. In her eyes, I also see my own future. She is a survivor, my mother.

What I have discovered, is that those women who are the most contented in their later years, are those who have walked the most difficult paths in their lives. The reason they know they can survive anything is often because they already have! They have been brave. They have been unconventional. They have taken what life has handed them and done the best they could with it. They have made good choices and they have made bad choices but they have always found the courage to make those choices. They have had good luck and they have had bad luck, but they have not let life make them bitter. They have learned when to say they were sorry, and when not to apologize for anything! They have lost friends and lovers. They have faced illnesses and disasters. They have held newborn babies and sat beside the deathbeds of loved ones.  They have raised children who brought them both heartache and joy, and they are still here, still going!

The women I have always envied, the confident older women, my mother and grandmother and many more, they know the secret. They know that the minute we are born we are heading towards the day we will die and that every, single day in between is precious. They know that it doesn’t matter if our car won’t start or we’ve burned the meal we were cooking, or if we’ve had a bad day at work. They know it doesn’t matter if we have what the neighbors have. It turns out it does not even really matter how our life partners fold the towels or whether the toilet paper rolls over or under. It doesn’t really matter. Life is too important, too wonderful and too short to waste time on worry, anger or regret.

This week I seem to have stumbled upon multiple stories about aging that left me once again asking the questions. How do we care for our parents? How will our children care for us? I read with horror, a local story of elder abuse. I read with sadness about the death of Andy Rooney, who continued to write and work and tell the world the truth until just four weeks before his death at 92. With a heavy heart, I read a story about author Dudley Clendinen, whose book “A Place Called Canterbury” told a beautiful story of a man taking care of his elderly mother in her last days. Clendinen, himself, is now the one dying, of Lou Gehrig’s disease, far sooner than anyone would wish. During this ordeal he is doing weekly broadcasts on living and dying. His choice on how he will end his life, before the disease takes its toll and his dignity, shows how complicated the decisions about our final days can be.

This is what middle age brings. It brings a view of the past in one direction and the future in the next direction. It is like spending time on top of Cadillac Mountain where you can see both the sunrise to the east and the sunset to the west and they are both beautiful and breathtaking. I sit, satisfied in a job well done after almost three decades of raising children. Yet, there is no time to rest on these accomplishments. No, life always has new challenges ahead. What will the next few years bring my mother and me? I think we’ll try our best to really remember that every day is a gift, whatever each day holds. Whatever choices we have to make for the future, I think my mother and I will be wearing more purple, sipping more wine and looking for a local place to buy her some satin sandals and long, lovely gloves!

WARNING

by Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick flowers in other people’s gardens

And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

To read more about Dudley Clendinen go to: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/10/opinion/sunday/10als.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1

To find out about local resources for aging in Central Maine go to: http://www.eaaa.org/

This piece was originally published on the Bangor Daily News website, November 5, 2011. 

When facing adversity, always show up wearing your bright red heels

I have always been known for being optimistic, or as I have often said myself, unrealistically optimistic in spite of reality. Hope was the one thing I could always cling to when things got tough. I think I learned very young, after the suicide of a family member, that your life was going to be whatever you made it and that giving up was far more painful for those you left behind than you could ever imagine in your temporary moment of despair.

This isn’t always easy. Some days things just seem to pile up. Some days I just feel old, past my prime and I wonder what the years ahead hold for me. It’s hard not to feel down, especially when the news lately has been filled with so much heartache, so much suffering. Of course, the news has always been filled with heartache and suffering hasn’t it?  

We forget sometimes though, as we look back at “the good old days” that memory seems to cloud over the bad and focus on the good, both in our personal lives and in our memory as a country. There were other years when jobs were hard to find, when education was inaccessible to many of our citizens and when discrimination was rampant. We have to remember, that while television and movies can make past generations look romantic and wonderful, there was also much suffering, not so unlike today.  

The same is true when we look back at our own lives, sometimes longingly, to the past. There were good times then but also struggles and we have to remember how far we’ve come and how much we’ve survived. One thing I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older is that you never come to a time in your life when you can say “okay, everything is perfect now.” There will always be challenges. There will always be illness, and struggles. There will be divorce and unemployment. The key, for me, is to not get discouraged by this, as maddening as it can be. We are human. We live in a world with other humans. Things will never be perfect.  They can, however, always be made better. This is the example I have tried to set for my children. That you don’t give up, you survive, no matter what. No matter how hard it is, you get up every day, put your two feet on the floor, and keep on going.

I put this to practice a few months ago, after a routine mammogram (talk about feeling old). I was called back for more tests because they spotted “something of concern.” I, of course, freaked out! Then I stopped, took a deep breath and made a decision on how I was going to face this, whatever it turned out to be. Damn it, I was going to do it with dignity! So, I showed up at my scheduled tests in bright red high heels. Now this may seem silly, but it was my way of bringing attitude to the situation! I was not going to let it drag me down, I was going to face it head on and I did! It all turned out well in the end but during those tests I never took off my red heels. Focusing on them reminded me of my own power to get through whatever life throws at me.

We can’t get bogged down by the suffering, or give up because the fight has taken too long. We must keep moving; keep going, always, always, always!

A beautiful example of this was a story in this week’s news about Pete Seeger. If you are young enough not to know Pete Seeger, I urge you to Google him the minute you finish reading my blog! He is an extraordinary musician and social activist. At 92 years old, if anyone deserves to be discouraged and to give up, it would be him. If anyone deserves to rest on his accomplishments if would be him. Yet, here he was this week, Occupying Wall Street!

Another article I found recently was about Elena Salvoni, a woman in her 90s who lives in London and oh by the way, just retired again from her career as a Maitre d. She retired at 65, tried again at 75 and then worked until she was 90. Why, because she loved her work and those she worked with loved her. Now Elena may not be as famous as Pete Seeger but she has walked her path with pride and dignity.  Who knows how many people’s lives she may have changed with her hard work and positive example!

Elena and Pete are proof that you can have a vital, productive life well after the typical retirement age of sixty five.  In fact, maintaining a productive life is what keeps people going. Retiring and sitting around doing nothing is actually bad for you! Study after study has found that the key to living a long, healthy life is not necessarily how much you exercise or what you eat. The key to living a long healthy life is to keep active, keep moving, and to keep doing! The secret to a long, active life is your ATTITUDE! How do you handle the inevitable challenges of life? Can you keep going, can you bounce back?

So today, I’m going to keep moving, keep showing up! I’m going to “keep on keeping on” and I’m packing my attitude, so watch out! Now I don’t know what Elena and Pete have been wearing for shoes lately, but I think I’ll go shopping for a second pair of bright red heels, just in case!

"If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude."  Maya Angelou

Want to read more ~  

To read about Pete Seeger marching on Wall Street click here!

Salvoni at "No Country for Young (& old) Women" click here.

If you want to live to be 100, click here for NPR's story!

This piece was originally published on the Bangor Daily News website, October 22, 2011. 

In a Perfect World . . .

"I’m fairly certain that given a cape and a nice tiara I could save the world.”

Author Unknown

If only I were in charge. A dear friend and I have discussed this often, our need to try to fix everything. Is it a character flaw or just a loving desire to want what is best for everyone? If only the other humans would cooperate! If only politicians would listen! How arrogant of me, at times, to believe that I could even begin to know what is best for someone else. Yet, it is my calling, this need to fix, to take care of, and to help. It is also my burden. To save sanity I must remember that it is not my job to fix everything. It is not my place to walk another’s path or to learn their lessons. This is especially hard with adult children. After all, I gave birth to them. How arrogant of them to not take advantage of my never ending stream of motherly wisdom!

In a perfect world they would gather around me regularly enraptured by my stories and bits of advice. They would do all the cooking and cleaning for these family gatherings. They would bring with them only friends and partners that I have approved of and blessed. There would be no squabbling among them, except for the occasional disagreement over which one of them adored me more!

Of course, in this perfect world I would still be a size 5. I would be living in a house meticulously cleaned by my staff of unionized, liberated domestics who only chose to work this job to supplement their more-than-adequate incomes as artists. When they finished the work they enjoyed so much, we would share coffee and wonderfully, intelligent political discussions were we would always agree. The gardens would be meticulously kept by me, and neither weeds nor bugs would ever be more than a passing annoyance. In this perfect world a husband would always keep his promises and hearts would never be broken.

Yet the older I get the more I realize that life will never be fair or perfect or predictable. It does not keep me from dreaming. No, my life did not turn out the way I hoped. I don’t live in the Brady Bunch house with six perfectly behaved children. I am not living happily ever after with my husband (or any of my husbands for that matter). Then again, maybe a perfect “Stepford” life would have been boring. Maybe the path I’ve taken instead was the one I was meant to take after all, filled with lessons, love and enlightenment. Let’s go with that!

        

In the meantime, if granted a cape and a tiara I would make the following changes:

In a perfect world, the woman in the car in front of me at the four way stop sign would have some freaking clue about what to do next, seriously!

In a perfect world, politicians would think of the people who elected them and not of their next election.

In a perfect world, soldiers would only need to put on uniforms to march in parades on the Fourth of July.

In a perfect world, college would be free and crime would never pay.

In a perfect world, our beloved dogs would live with us until we were both old and grey and we’d have the option of “putting down” husbands after ten or twelve years instead.

In a perfect world, football players would have to get “real” jobs in the off season in order to afford their lifestyles and teachers could actually make ends meet year round and not need second jobs.

In a perfect world, babies would only be born to loving parents and loving parents would always be given babies!

In a perfect world, Scotty could actually beam us up when needed.

In a perfect world, I would never have to nag a 20 year old child to do her dishes.

In a perfect world, people who love each other could always get married, anytime, anywhere no matter who they were or who they loved.  

In a perfect world, the printer would never freeze up ten minutes before the paper, proposal or project is due, viruses would only transmit colds and PC and Mac users could live together in harmony.

In a perfect world, Charlie Sheen would shut up and Maya Angelou would speak out more!

In a perfect world, children would not be taking drugs in the streets while elderly people skip needed medications they can’t afford.

In a perfect world, we would never have to utter the words “but he was so young” at another funeral, ever, ever again.

In a perfect world, Santa would be real, leaves would be the beautiful colors of orange and red all year long, and rainbows would always, always follow rain storms!

In a perfect world, clicking our heels together would really bring us home whenever we needed to go there.

Of course, maybe my perfect world wouldn’t be your perfect world and maybe that’s okay. Maybe the founders of our country were on to something when they set up a system in which we have to constantly have the conversations about the best ways to take care of everyone. Maybe they knew that we would never all agree but the point was to keep having the conversations until everyone was heard. Maybe I can trust my adult children to remember all the lessons I taught them, and to learn new lessons of their own.

Maybe my life didn’t turn out the way I planned but maybe that is what made me who I am today. I am happy with that and it’s been a wonderful adventure and maybe that means it is just perfect the way it is!

This piece was originally published on the Bangor Daily News website, April 7, 2012.  

The Condom Mom

Nothing says Happy Spring like a column about condoms!

Happy Spring, Happy Easter, Happy Holiday of your choice! In honor of Spring, the season of new life, and in order to spend the day with my family, I am posting an encore presentation of part of one of my all time favorite blogs! I had just signed on with BlogHer and had to let them know which ads I was willing to allow on my page! My number one choice for ads to run alongside my blog was contraceptives.

Why, do you say, would a mother of 4+ children want to advertise contraceptives on her page? Well other than the obvious (I gave birth four times in eight years) maybe it is time I confess one of my secret identities. That’s right, the teenagers all know but many of you don’t. I am THE CONDOM MOM.

For those of you who judged my personal life after seeing me buy boxes of condoms on sale at the drug store, now you know the truth. Believe me, it was not all fun and games. Standing in front of a condom display and choosing between “his pleasure” and “her pleasure” or regular size and Magnum Super Size for condoms that very well may be used by one’s own teenage children is uncomfortable to say the very least! However, this has been a calling of sorts for me. I have been providing condoms to teenagers since 1998. That’s right, for 14 years, since my oldest child was a freshman in high school; I have been purchasing and making available condoms of all varieties!

Of course, my free condoms come with lectures and lessons on self respect and commitment.  There is always a catch isn’t there. They also came with the knowledge that there was at least one adult in your life that you could come to with questions, any questions, who would not judge you, ever!

I had assumed that at some point, in all these years, at least one parent would come to me and say “what the hell are you doing?” None have so far. None have yet to say thank you either. If they only knew, I’m sure some of them might have. I always hoped if there was something one of my kids couldn’t talk to me about that another parent would be there for them. It does, after all, take a village sometimes.

There have been lots of funny stories connected with this calling of mine. My favorite story was when my youngest daughter was about nine or ten. She had a couple other little girls over for a sleep over. The next morning I went in the upstairs bathroom and found that not only was the floor very slippery but the trash was full of unwrapped condoms. Knowing none of the older children had been home that night I went into my daughter’s room to cautiously ask what they had been up to. It seems they weren’t exactly sure what the condoms were really supposed to be used for but they did discover that if you slipped them over your feet you could slide all over the bathroom!

There has been more than one teenager my children brought to the house for the first time who was stunned into silence upon discovering that the kids could talk openly with me and that there were free condoms in a jar in the upstairs bathroom. There were also those awkward conversations had with young people whose parents had not even prepared them in the smallest way for the world they were living in. But we all got through it and grew closer because of it. I hope that some of them went on to make at least a few choices that were better than those they made before.

I remember one young man who came to my house. He was 18 years old. His mother had found condoms in his room and she had TAKEN THEM AWAY FROM HIM. She had told him that her religion was strictly against him having sex until he was married and that from now on he WAS NO LONGER ALLOWED TO HAVE SEX. Now really, really, how effective does anyone really think that was? I do not mean to disrespect anyone’s personal religious beliefs however, when those beliefs conflict with reality there is a time when one must say “WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?” Her son was being responsible. He had educated himself and was protecting himself and his future. How about saying something like “these are our family’s religious beliefs however, if you find yourself in a situation, or chose to follow beliefs of your own this is how you protect your health, your future, and the future of the person you are with.” Or maybe, “wow son, I am very proud of you for taking care of yourself.”

No matter what you believe, no matter what your child decides to do, do you want him/her to risk their very life because you would not “allow” him to purchase condoms? That’s right Mom & Dad. Things are different than they were in our day. Nowadays, lives can change in ways that a simple prescription of antibiotics will not cure. If you believe your child would be making a mistake by having sex at his or her age, is it a mistake worth them dying over?

Maybe some of this is personal. I was a mom at 19 years old. I do not regret that. It was and still is the greatest thing I have ever done! However, I would have been a better mom if I had waited until I got older. I would have been a better mom if I had gone to college first, instead of after, in order to better provide for my children. Not admitting that is irresponsible and not warning my children of that would be irresponsible too. I have always told them, you can change any decision you make in your life except one. You can change your school, where you live, your partner, or your career. However, once you bring another human being into the world, you can’t change that! You will love this little person so much, so incredibly much, that you will want the best of everything for them. You will want them to have the very best parents in the world. So before you do that, before you make that decision, make sure you are ready to be the very best parent in the world.

Life happens and there are so many things in our lives that are beyond our control. The choice, however, to create life or not, is in your hands. The choice to create a life for yourself, the choice to create a life for the person you love, and the choice to make a life together is yours. It is a blessing to make a life and it is a blessing to have the choice not to make another life. Our fore-mothers fought long and hard for you to have those choices. Take it seriously. Go out and make a life for yourselves.

In the meantime, if you need condoms they are on the second shelf in the linen closet in the hallway.

This piece was originally published on the Bangor Daily News website, April 7, 2012.