The world outside shifts quickly when you're at home. It starts to feel too big; there's too much you need to protect your children from in it. But the truth is that the world outside isn't too big; it’s that when you let a part of yourself go—like your career—your world becomes smaller. And without balance, you lose perspective, a sense of proportion.
As most know, Gwyneth Paltrow has gone from Oscar-winning movie star to movie-star mommy over the past several years. Even though her schedule is crazy-packed—the talented lady is shooting films, doing Glee and basically starting a new career in country music—she still makes time to play the role of wife and mother to her husband, Chris Martin, and their two kids, Apple and Moses, respectively. In fact, Gwyneth is trying to convince us that at heart, she's really just June Cleaver.
My mother was single for a long time before she found someone she liked. And despite those visions of Friday nights on the couch, I can see the value in truly waiting for someone to come along that you just can't ignore. But, most of all, I'm reminded of a conversation I had with my mother's mother, Grandma Theresa, before her death in 2007: "I just hope she finds someone that makes her happy." This, really, is what matters most in a relationship—whether it happens when you're 26 or 56. If not, there's always Jon Stewart.
I often think of being a stepmom as walking a very precarious tightrope: you want to bond with your step-child but you don't want to overstep your bounds and usurp the birth mother's place. It's delicate, being that emotional support without taking over more than you should. I'm still trying to figure out just how to find that balance.
Whether it's your hairstyle or your habit of clearing the table as soon as dinner is finished, turning into your own mother can throw you for a loop. Fortunately, it's not always a bad thing to take after the one who made you who you are.
I want my husband to help feed our baby. What I didn't expect was the incredulity people expressed when I told them I wanted my husband to be involved with the feeding of our child and, if that means we supplement with formula, then so be it. This decision has nothing to do with me shirking my duties as a parent, and it's not a way to somehow coerce my husband into more late nights than are his due. I just really want him to share in the fun of feeding time.
The number of American women without children has risen to an all-time high of 1 in 5, a jump since the 1970s when 1 in 10 women ended their childbearing years without having a baby, according to the Pew Research Center. About 1.9 million women aged 40-44 - or 18 percent - were childless in 2008, an 80 percent increase since 1976, when just 580,000 -- 10 percent of those in that age bracket -- had never given birth, the Census Bureau's Current Population Survey shows.
You don't necessarily buy into the theory that men are not nurturing, and that they act like little toddlers when they are sick but expect the exact opposite of their wives. He's a good man, and will do almost anything he's asked. But then, that's it. The asking part.
As family life unfolds, bringing, as it must, shares of both pain and pleasure, I find myself looking for comfort in places I never looked before. I've turned to comfort foods and the comfort of cooking, the comfort of sex with my husband of 22 years, and the comfort of good friends. I've rediscovered the comforts of music to calm my soul, books that speak to my scrambled emotions, and films and television programs that help to settle sadness. A noisy restaurant, and even occasional strangers have also offered unexpected comforts. I thought I knew by now everything that could bring me comfort, but it seems there's a source I've been overlooking—the comfort of my kids.
Self-improvement and I are old pals. At age 11, I decided to fix my thighs (aerobics); at 19, to fix my soul (daily mass). In my 30s, I vowed to fix my mothering (support group, too many books). I've spent considerable hours of my life delving into self-actualization, mindful growth, claiming my authenticity, expanding my horizons, seeking enlightenment, making positive affirmations, eating and being in some zone, and twelve-stepping to some new place that was always just another plateau. I took classes, joined support groups, journaled for peak performance. Then I realized that if I didn't stop the manic frenzy of trying to better myself, at age 95 I'd likely still never know the secret. Lately, I began to ask myself why was I behaving as if only the new, improved person I would someday be, mattered more than the me I was, the me I am, now? What was I showing my kids about judging oneself too harshly, about dissatisfaction as a default mindset? And did I really want my husband to think I wasn't pretty terrific as is? I decided to knock it off.
We asked some of the top love experts to give the final word on the most-asked relationship and dating questions. In this episode of "The Final Word," Ian Kerner, Evan Marc Katz, Debra Burrell and Andrea Syrtash give advice on how to deal with an intrusive mother-in-law.
