Sunday is Mother’s Day. And mostly what I have to saw to all the other moms out there is something along the lines of, Hell ya! We rock! Gimme a high five! Because it is not easy work that we do. Being a mother is the greatest act of vulnerability. I have never been so exposed to judgement or the potential for unbearable loss. And at the core of every mother is the fiercest desire to protect, because in protecting these beings we so dearly love, we are also protecting our own hearts, our own vulnerability. So kudos to us all who dare to love and sacrifice so much, and who fight so hard and so selflessly. This song is for you. The lyric are below – they could be taken from the mouth of every mother I know.

P.S. I can’t take credit for finding this amazing song. I stumbled on it at Girls Gone Child, my most favorite blog of all time.

Kate Earl – One Woman Army

Never knew what I was signing up for
Knew it was hard but not this hardcore
Never gonna stop, never gonna give up on you
No matter what I do

Here I am baby, I’m your one woman army
I’d fight for you, I’ll die, I’ll be your protector
Here I am baby, I’m your one woman army
No matter what may come, I won’t surrender

Wanna give you everything I never had
Love you and teach you good from bad
Never gonna stop, never gonna give up on you
No matter what I do

Here I am baby, I’m your one woman army
I’d fight for you, I’ll die, I’ll be your protector
Here I am baby, I’m your one woman army
No matter what may come, I won’t surrender

What I do, I do for you the best I can
Build a life for you with my own two hands
Never gonna stop, never gonna give up on you
No matter what I do

Here I am baby, I’m your one woman army
I’d fight for you, I’ll die, I’ll be your protector
Here I am baby, I’m your one woman army
No matter what may come, I won’t surrender

A friend of mine, actually, my old boss/editor (an awesome woman complete with a big heart and loads of smarts) recently asked me in an email what I’ve been doing for fun and inspiration. And at first all I could muster was a sigh, as the repetitive details of my stay-at-home-mom day ran through my brain. Between endlessly cleaning my house for showings (9 of them and 0 offers), caring for my little kids, and, most recently, my husband, who was incapacitated for 3 days after throwing his back out (golfing), it’s been a long, seemingly uninspiring week.

But then, as so often happens, on the heels of a downtrodden attitude came insight. I looked around my life and saw that inspiration was all around me, remembering that it often lies in the ordinary moments, not the extraordinary events. All I had to do was open my eyes to it, to change my perspective from Blah to Boom, and let the smallest things whack me in the heart with their subtle beauty.

So, dear Jeanne, what have I been doing lately for inspiration?

I have been watching my handsome troublemaker son and sweet, growing-up-too-fast daughter forming a lifelong bond, one weaved with love, friendship and mutual disgust.

I have seen Crosby find fascination in the whistle of a train, the tweet of a bird and the wet lick of a dog. I have also watched him struggle to understand that markers (washable, thank god) are for paper, not faces.

I have been swept away by the beauty of my daughter and a deep desire for her to also be strong, smart, kind, confident and brave.

I have been inspired to be the best mother I can be, day in and day out, for these two little people who have been gifted to me. While I steadfastly watch over their safety, I admit to somewhat regularly failing to see the magic in our everyday occurrences.

But today was a day where I was reminded to witness them, not as a busy passerby with rooms to clean and laundry to fold, but as the person who was given a VIP pass to their childhood and whose attitude directly impacts their environment.

Thank you to all, Jeanne included, who keep me inspired.

Last year on Earth Day, I lectured on GMOs, a topic still near and dear to my heart, along with sustainable farming and knowing WTF is in my food. This year, I thought I’d share the 3 websites I rely on most to feel better about the chemicals/mysterious substances I’m bringing into my home or putting into or onto my body.

The Environmental Working Group’s Cosmetic Database

ewg.org/skindeep

Find the least chemically-laden Anything-That-Touches-Your-or-Your-Baby’s-Skin. From wipes to sunscreen to shampoo and more, you can find the greenest/safest versions here.

The Environmental Working Group’s Guide to Healthy Cleaning

ewg.org/guides/cleaners

Clean your home without loads of questionable and potentially harmful ingredients.

Avoid GMO products

nongmoproject.org/find-non-gmo/search-participating-products

This site is a goldmine of information for those wanting to understand what all the fuss is about with GMOs. The link above will take you to a list of foods that do not contain GMOs, but I encourage you to click around and learn the facts behind GMOs.

Most people assume that I’m anti-GMO because I only believe in organic products. And while in some ways that is true, my beliefs about food stem from a passion for sustainable farming, meaning growing food (animals included) in a way that does not rely on or promote the insanely abundant use of chemicals. I think we all know that dumping toxic materials onto our food or into the ground/waters we live and rely on makes little sense. GMOs promote the use of chemicals in a big, big way. Plus, I want to eat food that nature created, not a scientist. All that said, my household and diet is far from being GMO-free, simply because GMOs are in nearly every single food product on the shelf, even meats, dairy and eggs. The only sure way to avoid them is to buy organic or look for items with the nonGMO verified seal.

Happy Earth Day. Hope you find a moment to enjoy the fresh air and give Mother Earth a pat on the back.

The day after I wrote that last post, freaking out over somewhat silly things, an 8-year-old boy was killed by a bomb during the Boston marathon. There’s nothing like that to put worries into perspective. Every parent worries – for life – and while we all have the same big worries in common (kidnapping, drugs, bullying, harm, etc), the tiny concerns can set us apart.

As you can tell from my last post, I am concerned about what is happening to the food we eat. In short, I don’t trust it. I worry about the abundance of chemicals we so freely fill our days with and what they are doing to our bodies and environment. But that’s a post for another time.

Today, I want to share two things. First, what you have all obviously been waiting for – did Adeline (and I) survive her first field trip? Yes! Turns out, not surprisingly, I had nothing to worry about. She sat with a little boy named Grady, and I guess they were giggling while on the bus and watching Rumplestiltskin and his gold-spinning ways quite contentedly. As for me, as soon as I vented my concerns here, I felt a million times better, as is so often the case. As for the reasoning behind no seat belts on school buses, there are good reasons! Read them here, if you would like.

The other thing I want to share is an all-time favorite poem that I’m sure many of you have read before. It always quiets my fears regarding my children and makes me remember that their lives are not mine to control. They are theirs to discover.

Children by Khalil Gibran

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

So you’d think with my house on the market, I’d be up late obsessing about whether or not it will sell and where we’ll move to (by the way, 5 showings last week and no offers). But I’m not worrying about it, because I am too obsessed with the minutia of being responsible for the health and well-being of 2 children.

As parents, we are hardwired to worry about our children above anything else. It’s all I’ve been doing lately. I’m not sure if it’s a sign that stay-at-home-moming has officially taken hold and my brain can only process thoughts about my children or if my brain is so overwhelmed by the idea of moving that it’s hyper fixating on other things to stay distracted.

Anyways, I have not been sleeping well because as soon as I shut my eyes at night, my mind inflates with Things I Am Doing Or Might Do That Could Potentially Harm My Kids.

This syndrome, one I know many parents are all too familiar with, began the second Adeline was born, and every time I ascended or descended stairs with her fragile body in my arms, I had visions of tripping and injuring her. Since becoming a mom, whenever I hear a tragic story about a child, I envision it happening to my child…the Oh my god, what if that had been my family? And I want to barf every time it happens, as I feel the anxiety fill by stomach, my heart sink and muscles tense. It sucks, and it’s the worst part about being a parent – worry takes on a whole new definition, becomes a constant companion and sticks with you for the rest of your life.

These days, I worry about the same things I mentioned above, but now throw in things like Am I letting them eat too much sugar? Is the genetically-modified-almost-everything-on-the-grocery-store-shelves messing with them, along with all the other unnatural ingredients? And what about the plastics? The plastics! Plastic sippy cups, plastic bowls, plastic spoons. WTF is plastic even made of ? That mom in music class was using aluminum sippy cups, and I totally should be, too! But what if it’s too late? What if my children have already been poisoned by plastic and Yellow #4 and high fructose corn syrup!?! That is an exact excerpt of my thoughts from last night at around midnight. This is the stuff that keeps me up.

But what’s trumping all my worries lately is a field trip Adeline is supposed to take with her new preschool class (she switched to a new room about a month ago). She’s supposed to ride on a school bus with all 25 of her classmates, who, in her classic, painfully shy and quiet way, she is taking a while to warm up to, and 2-3 teachers to see a high school production of Rumpelstiltskin. I am struggling with this. I’m hung up on there’s no seat belts on buses, which is absurd, because this child has spend her entire life strapped into a 5-point harness car seat and now she’s just supposed to sit on a bench with zero protection? How does that make sense, School Bus Designers and Engineers?

I am so freaked out by this field trip that I have consulted with every mom friend I have with kids Addy’s age that attend preschool. So, has (enter their child’s name) ever gone on a field trip with his/her class? And did they take a bus? And was it fine? And is there any hope that I will one day relax a little as a parent? And of course, all the moms say, “They loved it! It was fine.”

I have the option to attend the field trip as a chaperon, and I’m tempted to do it. But, because Addy is in “watch and learn” mode rather than “dive in and interact” mode with her new classmates (which, p.s. is behavior very typical of her mom), I know if I attend she’ll be stuck to my side the entire time. And I wonder if a new, fantastic experience is just what she needs to unlodge her from her shyness, to shake her out of “watch and learn” and drop her right into “This is awesome! Let’s play and giggle and omg! I love you!” mode with her classmates. But on the other hand, whenever I do go back to work, I will no longer have the opportunity to attend field trips, as one of my mom friends wisely pointed out. And maybe my being there would provide the comfort level she needs to emerge from her shell.

But, furthermore, I am also worrying that I am totally f’ed up because I am worrying about stuff like this. Like W-O-R-R-Y-I-N-G about it. Am I a total weirdo of a mom who needs to chill? Perhaps sleep instead of envision the chemicals filling the air every time I use a non-stick pan when I make my kids’ mac n’ cheese? (The label that comes with non-stick pans tells you to remove small birds from the house before cooking with them because the fumes can kill them! What???!!!)

Oh my god, I’m a freak, aren’t I? A freak who is never going to sleep again because I see my future before me, a trifecta of worries following me around for life - What is best for my children?/The fear of anything bad happening to them/Am I screwing them up? And we all know the answer to that last one is yes, because that’s a given with parenting, just like the worrying. I am going to leave a smudge on their beautiful, perfect, impressionable little souls no matter how much I don’t mean to.

I think these days there’s just a lot a parent can worry about if they let themselves. And clearly I am letting myself. Hopefully our house will sell soon so I can worry about that instead. I’m sure my children would be grateful. And probably my husband, too. And all of my mom friends with school-age kids.

Our house if officially on the market, as that lock box on our original 1913 doorknob indicates. We have our first showing tomorrow (Tuesday) from 5pm-6pm, which is a totally convenient time when you have 2 little kids. Not that we expected this to go any differently.

I am a mix of anxious, excited, proud and sad. I feel like I’m sending an injured animal that I nursed back to life out into the wilderness, seeing how she fares on her own without me to protect her.

In so many ways this house was our first child. We equal parts loved it and cursed it, and I feel certain that it liked to mess with us, challenging us at the  most inopportune times (You have no heat and limited electricity? Let’s see how you do without a water heater, too! Hahahaha!). But now I feel there’s a mutual respect. In my mind, this house is a beautiful bitch, probably in part because I know how frightening she once was – totally neglected, but loaded with vintage charm. And we brought her back to life, adding modern touches to keep her relevant.

Joey’s cousin, a professional photographer who is married to former real estate agent, came over last week to take the pictures that appear with our listing. You’ve seen many photos of my home over the years and in various stages. Here’s an overview of what she looks like now.

She’s been a good home to us, even when she was run down. And now it’s someone else’s turn to introduce their family to her and make a zillion amazing memories within her walls, just as we have.

You guys. I am already crying and technically no one has even looked at her yet. I am going to be a mess if she actually sells.