Tuesday, November 5, 2019

One Thing at a Time

I took my first yoga class many years ago, it was the Beginner’s class called C1 and I remember being amazed at how intense the workout was once it was over. I felt great, invigorated and wiped out all at the same time. The one message that resonated with me for that hour and every time I took a class after that was “Remember to Breathe”!
Now I’ve never been a big fan of multi-tasking so the fact that I needed to breathe in, breathe out AND make sure my moves & poses were correct was simply too much for me to bear! I made the best of it, followed along and tried my best. I would always breathe out when you’re supposed to breathe in and vice versa.
My brain apparently isn’t wired to do more than one thing at a time however you know there are exceptions to every rule.
Here are mine:
1. Using my 10-Key Casio calculator while looking at the numbers on my screen or on paper and running a tape once or twice or thrice!
2. Listening to music while driving a car
As you can see, it’s just not my thing. I’m sure there are other things I do every day that you would consider to be multi-tasking, but I need to focus & finish typing this and can’t think about anything else right now😊
I know I intuitively DO more than one thing at a time without even knowing it, and I’m sure I’ve done this for a very long time. What I’m saying here is that I don’t think I’m doing it well any longer. My brain, while capable of a lot, just can’t absorb that kind of workload anymore. I think it’s been going on for a while now, I don’t know when it started but I’ve slowly stepped back from over working it on purpose. I joke that my brain needs to decompress and dial down the content once the workday is over. I don’t even think I “do” talk on the phone while driving well anymore……because then I would be tri-tasking. (Listening to music, driving and talking on the phone)
Like all of you, I’ve had a lot going on, sometimes more than I can realistically handle. My motto has always been “keep on keeping on” the best I can. I go and do as soon as I walk out my front door and don’t look back.
Keep moving forward, don’t look back. Stay in today I tell myself, only today and nothing else. Staying in yesterday causes depression, thinking about tomorrow causes anxiety, so stay present, be present and nothing else.
Pretty good for someone who doesn’t like doing more than one thing at a time right?
Growing up Hechtman, as you all know, was filled with lots of love, laughter and lighthearted lunacy. In between the L’s were conversations about planning which of course included saving for the future. Multi-tasking at its finest.
If you’re still reading and haven’t driven off the road yet, thank you for hanging on……
.
I know what you must be thinking, planning usually involves thinking about tomorrow, right? Yes, but you can plan today, which is being present. I think you get where I’m going with this so indulge me a little more, I’ll get to the point at some point😊
Keeping a foot in yesterday, the other foot in tomorrow, and a few fingers in today is chaos. Close your eyes for a minute and imagine doing this with your feet and fingers? Hard to imagine right? If you work on your core everyday all the time you might be able to do it, but maybe not for the long haul.
Not every day, at least for me. To me, it’s not sustainable.
I know I’ve been guilty of doing all three at once for a very long time. Thinking about yesterday, thinking about tomorrow and planning for today. That, my friends, is an explosion waiting to happen.
I say this from my heart and soul and to share why I’ve been absent from writing in such a long time.
So much going on, always every day. So much to carry, literally and figuratively. Its amazing I’m still holding strong at 5’3. My shoulders are sore from the weight of my world on them. Going and doing, every day and waiting to exhale and not remembering if I’m breathing.
This week, Tuesday October 29th, to be exact marked 16 years I’ve been doing on my own, a single full-time working mom.
I write this not to get accolades and pats on my sore back, I write this share and connect. I share this so I can exhale, writing has become one of my salvations.
I share this too because I know I am not alone. We’re used to sharing for the good stuff, at least the “fake” good stuff because it’s easier. Keeping the bad stuff to ourselves keeps our secret that maybe our life is slowly falling apart. Sharing the good stuff keeps the secret that the cover of our lives looks great. It’s usually not the cover that people remember. We remember the pages inside the book, sometimes we bookmark pages that spark something inside of us. We nod our head because we know we are not alone in our experiences.
I wish I had something profound and witty to say in closing, but I’m tired and getting ready to enjoy dinner with friends.
I know I’ll be greeted with lots of love and support as I walk in, I’ll probably start to cry because my cupeth has runneth over with all of the shit going on over the past few months and I can finally breath and exhale because I am letting it all hang out, with you.
Wow, that felt good😊
TGIF friends and see you soon, xoxo

Friday, July 19, 2019

Road Tripping

I’ve never been much of a road trip kind a girl. Growing up Hechtman proved to cement that sentiment as my dad professed that driving down to Wrigley Field or Soldier Field
constituted not only good ole family time but a road trip for sure! Who could argue, before he decided to splurge for parking passes it felt like we were driving for days! To make matters worse, we had to listen to the pregame show on AM something or other and the conversation was down to a soft whisper.
Truth be told, we did spend time road tripping one year, driving all the way to Rockford to Wagon Wheel Resort. It was an epic trip which ended with me having roughly 7 stitches under my chin. Apparently; we didn’t have goggles for me to see when to start reaching my arms under the water in the pool. I looked up a little too late
I’ve taken two road trips in less than two weeks; my back is sore and neck……well that’s another story.
We headed out to IU/Bloomington for orientation not even a week and a half ago. I asked Jay to drive, as my second road trip was going to be solo and after the please and thank you and thank you again, he picked us up and we headed for a quick bite before going on the road. With music selections of the Grateful Dead, Phish and Pearl Jam, a delish lunch at Rhapsody, we were on our way. Noah was uncomfortably settled and laying down in the back seat with a pillow and headphones.
Not easy for this 18-year-old kid tipping 6’0”/6’1” recovering from ACL surgery, but he’ll manage. We made it in time to enjoy a great meal and a little music at Crazy Horse. The ride back was good, we bypassed the city for 294, listened to some good music and were thrilled to get out of the car.
My next road trip would come less than 72 hours later, as I repacked and got on the road this past Friday heading up to Minocqua for visiting weekend.
Road tripping is not for the faint of heart. If I’m alone, is it really considered a road trip or is it just me in the car for 5 hours listening to music while driving fast enough to qualify for Nascar?
I’m not a book’s on tape person. During the workweek I listen to talk radio, Howard Stern and music for the short drive. When I’m “road tripping”, I love to play music. I have a very diverse musical pallet, and love increasing the volume with the windows and sunroof open. It’s the next best thing to a good therapy session and easy to have a good cry while driving well over the speed limit.
The drive up was good, I mean I’d rather be in the dentist chair, but you know what I mean.
Five hours in the car with no stopping (I had cut up peppers, cucumber and a few hard-boiled eggs already peeled!) is long. I do my best to gaze at the display as infrequently as possible and am always surprised by how much time has passed.
I don’t like chatting much on the phone and really enjoy my alone time in the car. Five hours really did seem to fly by, and to be honest, it was about 4 hours and 45 minutes. Might have been my best time yet😊
I started thinking about when my older brother Jeffrey went to college. He went to Cornell his freshman year. It was a campus I wish I had had the opportunity to see in person. School was starting for me & Jimmy so we couldn’t tag along for a free trip. Maybe school wasn't started for us, but whatever the case was we certainly weren't invited! I believe my Grandma Syl was staying with us. Actually; that was better than a free trip because she basically let us do whatever we wanted.
My parents were taking Jeffrey. Amms Limousine Service was picking them up and I saw the black car pull into the driveway.
Time to go.
I was in my bedroom, looking through my white mini-blinds and I started to cry. To this day, I don’t remember if I went downstairs to say goodbye however I can’t imagine that I wouldn’t want to give my brother a hug goodbye. Let’s just say for argument sake that I didn’t. It was so upsetting to me that he was leaving. Even though we experienced our own unique sibling rivalry growing up, I couldn’t believe this was happening.
We were the original Hechtman 5 + J.J. (our dog). We were the Jay, Judy, Jeffrey, Jennifer, Jimmy and J.J. We all had blue eyes except for our dog, remember???
Somehow, I hadn’t prepared for this goodbye. I hadn’t prepared for Jeffrey not being around anymore. I still needed him, my big brother. I knew Jimmy was happy he wouldn’t have to witness our insane fighting anymore. I knew our parents were thrilled we had outgrown that behavior for something more “mature”. I knew J.J. was for sure going to miss him. No longer would there be four bedrooms to visit every night. There was a rule in our house which was made soon after we adopted her from the Lambs Farm. We had to leave our doors open just enough so J.J. could come in and visit each and every night. You know we hardly followed that rule and got woken up numerous times by J.J. as she scratched the inside of our doors to get out.
She knew the rules. She also knew that she would have one less room to visit.
I’m preparing for another goodbye soon as another road trip is on the horizon. It’s time for Noah to move on, the world at his feet. An opportunity awaits on the gorgeous campus of Bloomington, IN. How are we here? I remember the day he was born…just like it was yesterday. He was just learning to crawl.
Life seems to go by so much faster these days……this year has been no different. Life seems to go as fast if not faster than I was driving this past weekend. We see so many people writing how time goes by “in the blink of an eye”, or “time flies”. I find myself being more aware of how fast time goes by when I think about how long my dad has been gone. It’ll be three years this August 16th.
I know this goodbye will be the same but much different than when I was looking out of my bedroom window many years ago. It’ll be the same because it means that nothing will ever be the same. No more Hechtman 5+1.
Time for me to hold onto the hugs, time for me to remind myself that my mothering isn’t over it’s just changing. Time for me to tell him again how much I love him; how much I believe in him and how I will always be there for him. I want him to know how much he is loved and that he matters. Finally, I want him to know I’ll always be a phone call away…….
I think he knows, at least I hope he does.
See you on the road my friends,
Xoxo, Jennifer

Monday, February 25, 2019

Will You Be There.....

Will You Be There…….
I remember asking my doctor about having kids, to be clear, I remember specifically asking “how do I know if I can get pregnant”? She smiled and laughed and told me to “have fun trying”. We were lucky as it didn’t take long for Noah to arrive and then a little over two years later Rachel joined her brother.
I remember the three of us leaving the hospital back in October of 2000, me riding in the back seat staring at Noah. I had loved being pregnant with both kids, I thought it was so cool that a baby was growing inside of my belly. I loved saying that my body wasn’t mine for the next 9 months and all I wanted was a healthy baby with 10 fingers and 10 toes. I felt so strong when I was pregnant even when I felt so tired and just wanted to put both of my feet up. I kept going, kept working, kept doing. I didn’t know any other way.
I remember telling my dad that I was pregnant with Noah, I don’t think I looked him straight in the eyes for fear he would realize the news wasn’t due to immaculate conception!
He thanked me both times for great planning as Noah was born in October and Rachel in November and I wouldn’t be on maternity leave for the entire tax season, just the beginning:)
The drive home from the hospital didn’t get underway until the sun went down, and I remember how dark it was while we made our way to our apartment in the city. It was just the three of us as we walked in the door, no nurse, no parents and really no idea what we had just gotten ourselves into. All of those books that attempt to prepare you for parenthood seemed like a distant memory. This was on the job training at its finest.
It seemed like seconds before all hell broke loose, Noah was crying, he needed to be fed and needed a diaper change. The trifecta all within what seemed like minutes of us walking in the door. It was like the blind leading the blind and we were just hanging on doing our best to survive the first 24 hours of being parents. I vividly remember calling the nurses station at the hospital, crying and begging them to tell me what they did to stop Noah from crying. Did they wave a magic wand? Show tunes? Please, I begged don’t keep it a secret and tell me what the heck did I need to do?
I called two of my friends who lived close by while I sat on the front stoop, crying and laughing as I shared my story of the frantic phone call to the hospital. I knew it would all be okay, eventually. We were new parents and needed to go thru the unspoken initiation just like everyone else. I still joke that no one ever died (not that I know) from parenting. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger right? Well I’m here to tell you that I’m pretty damn strong!
I think I was an okay mom, going thru each day changing diapers, feeding and clothing both kiddos while they were young. I’d drop them off at the sitters, work a full day, pick them up and go home. It seemed alright, I did love the middle of the night feedings. I remember rocking with Noah while we lived in the city. It would be 2 or 3 in the morning and it was just us, rocking away. He slept in my arms and I would stare in delight at his precious face, cute hands and feet. He smelled so delicious and I loved loving him. I felt the same with Rachel, this time we were in the suburbs and I would rock with her in the living room with the same wonder. It was exhausting, yet I felt so blessed and grateful to be their mom.
It wasn’t a reciprocal relationship yet although it may have looked like that from afar. These little people depended on both of us. They showed their love by crying, screaming, melting down in the middle of the park or store or anywhere they pleased when they were little. They also showed love by blowing kisses, hugging us, and sometimes just throwing things at us. They were doing what little people do and we did what parents do and soothed them, or at least tried.
Sometimes it was an epic fail and that’s just the way it was. I knew they weren't going to be any more or less screwed up than anyone else on the block.
I’ve never not wanted to be a mom since I became one over 18 years ago. I’m an open book and speak the truth about my own personal struggles and parenting is no different. Being a single full-time working mom is no cake walk, but I have grown and gained more perspective over the past 15 years then I could ever imagine. I have come to truly love being a mom over the past few years as I have watched my kids evolve and develop their strong personality all while maintaining their old soul spirit and tender heart.
I understand what it means to be Noah’s mom and Rachel’s mom. It’s not from posting pictures or sharing silly stories, it’s not about them reaching milestones like no longer sucking a binky, or wearing diapers. It’s more than getting a driver’s permit, driver’s license or getting an award. For me, it’s about being there, being present. It’s about going to the ends of the earth and using my resources when they need support. It’s about staying home sitting on the couch when they need company but don’t want to talk. It’s about never hanging up without saying I love you and meaning it. It’s about crying your eyes out when you’re not sure if you made the right decision. It’s about letting them know I’m human but am strong enough to go on because that’s what I do.
I love being a mom, I love being Noah’s mom and love being Rachel’s mom. They have taught me how to be a better mom as they each need something different but ultimately, they both need and want to be loved and know that they matter, no matter what.
Take care my friends,
Xoxo, Jennifer