What is an Athlete?

 Physical talent is not what defines an athlete; mental fortuity and an unwillingness to quit are the defining traits.  An athletic attitude definitely permeates daily life.  This morning, for example, I felt rotten.  I went to spin class anyway, tried my best and felt better for it [endorphins].  I wasn't going to sit down and write, but I couldn't give my all in one sphere of my life and not another.  The attitude must be consistent.

Nowhere is the impact of the athletic attitude more manifest than in my younger daughter.  Her effort and drive are evident on and off the ice.  It is inspiring to learn from her attitude.  The eldest daughter has just discovered crew, and it is motivating her to find her best self within.  Being a coxswain has given Allison a sense of purpose and responsibility; I have never known her to be hellbent on getting to breakfast by 7 am.  

In my opinion, all that you hear about development about positive self-esteem through participation in sports is true.  I know it is true for me and I see it in my daughters.  They feel great about being part of a team and succeeding.  I feel great about the fact that I haven't given up on myself and that I am setting an example for my daughters.  My morning workouts set the tone for my days, and I go to sleep at night knowing that I tried my best from the first hour.          

Frustration and apologies

Apologies to all of my readers- Phil, that means you.  I don't know why my computer decided to publish the last entry in all caps.  Perhaps it sensed my ire, and decided to scream my opinion to the world.  Well, I am new to blogging and there sure is a learning curve.  I hope my audience will be indulgent.  

Moral Compass Gone haywire

A New York Times article, "Cancer Patients Challenge the Patenting of a Gene" by John Schwartz, which appeared on May 12, 2009, disclosed the monopoly held by Myriad on testing to detect the BRCA gene.  Breast cancer patients who have this gene could make well-placed bets on their odds of getting ovarian cancer, so detection of the gene impacts treatment decisions.  Because of Myriad's monopoly, there are no comparative tests, and woe to the patient who can't afford the thousands charged; Myriad doesn't accept insurance.   Adding insult to injury, Myriad has been granted a patent on the gene the test method. Yet another company holds the patent on the gene responsible for the deathly "long QT syndrome," according to the article.One wonders if executives of these companies sleep soundly?  Irrespective of the merits and the questionably favorable precedent [or the soundness that precedent], significant moral issues are at stake.  Is our country prepared to deprive seriously ill patients access to crucial information in the name of big bucks? Making money from development of tests, medications and procedures is fine, but the American concept of justice I learned in law school is one of fairness and equity. Sanctioning monopolies that deprive patients meaningful access to credible tests is simply wrong.  Executives of Myriad and all like-minded companies should consider new careers, perhaps in the area of sub-prime lending. One more thing; Dr. Henry Ostrer, director of the human genetics program at the New York University School of Medicine, was quoted in the May 12, 2009 New York Times article.  Dr. Ostrer is the Director of Human Genetics at the New York University School of Medicine.  His laboratory is currently working to discover a modifier gene that prevents BRCA from triggering to cause cancer.   The Jewish Women's Foundation of New York, of which I am proudly a member, provided funds for the initial phase of this research.  Dr. Ostrer and Dr. Freya Schnabel made a presentation in support of the grant that left us in awe with admiration for these brilliant scientists who are dedicated to improving the quality of life for everyone.  They are, my friends, upright and moral.  Naturally, Dr. Ostrer is a plaintiff in the suit against Myriad.  One would expect nothing less.

Racial Identification

I am distracted. Perhaps you have read about the fall-out resulting from Paulo Serodio's description of himself as a "white African-American?" The debate is whether blacks have an exclusive on the phrase "African-American" as a description of race. Other students took offense at the phrase "white African American." This is tough.

You see, the appellations of "black" and "white" simply don't appeal. As literary devices, those colors denote evil and good. Besides, those colors are completely inaccurate. Were I to select a word to describe my coloring, white wouldn't be it. Caucasian works, so we have a term that covers part of the population. But black, well that term just hurts me. I have friends who use the term "black" to describe themselves. Brown, I feel, is a much more accurate adjective, but it hasn't caught on. When I meet someone, though, I prefer to value the person on their own terms.

Until very recently, Jews didn't publicize their ethnicity in an attempt to avoid prejudicial back-lash. A baptismal certificate was requested of my uncle when he applied for a job at the phone company. There were accounting firms and law firms where my father could not work. When she started teaching in the late 1960's, my mother, Miriam Spiro, was first asked whether she was Greek, then she was asked if she was Italian. Time came for Passover, and my mother asked for a day off. The principal wasn't too happy that he had hired a Jew. How you describe yourself should make you comfortable and secure. In a society where pretty much anything goes, it is a wonder that anyone was bothered by Paolo Serodio's self-identification. It just goes to show you, though, that words are our arsenal.

Covering up uncomfortable. My parents and their generation limited their lives, in large part, to Jews. They were able to avoid being "out." A negative message is sent to the off-spring when parents engage in that kind of identity avoidance. But that was how things worked long ago; my parents were not overtly Jewish out of their perception of necessity. Not to worry, though - I worked it out in therapy. Now I have to come to terms with being short.

Parental advocacy and the troubled child

So much for my efforts to transition away from stay-at-home mommying.  Yes, mommying is a verb.  Yesterday, I went totally Martha Stewart.  I made cream of asparagus soup using farmers' market produce purchased for my by Sharon Klein of Sharon Klein Graphic Design, as well as spinach quiche.  Of course, I made my own crust,  spinach from my garden outside and 1% milk.  Hey, if I am going to do this stay-at-home thing, I figure I should go the distance.  

I love listening to Doctor Joy Brown on WOR Radio 710 AM at 1 pm.  So, while I enjoyed my lunch of home-made minestrone [chicken stock with tomato paste, chopped tomatoes and chick peas], I listened in.  A woman called about her lost-soul, 21 year old daughter.  My heart went out to this mother.  I am so familiar with her anger, frustration and confusion - wondering why this child can't be like her 7 -yes, 7- siblings. This girl ditched college, started drinking, can't hold a job and is failing to live as a functioning adult.   I am glad that the mother finally reached out for help.

I related, because I had to go through a major attitude adjustment toward my eldest daughter and her unique obstacles.  My daughter faces challenges. Thankfully,  none of them are as life threatening as drinking, smoking, drug addition or an eating disorder. However, her issues do make me concerned for my daughter's ability to learn to be a functioning, independent adult, capable of performing basic life skills.  Yes, I am sad that this absolutely brilliant girl might not accomplish her potential, but she is only 15, so the book isn't yet closed and I am not giving up on her.  I am learning that my job, as a parent, is to advocate for this girl.  I am responsible for recognizing that there is a problem and seeking resources for help.  This life has been assigned to me to marshall through to adulthood.  I am grateful to all of the people who are helping accomplish this task; most especially, the Klennex folks for making the many wonderful facial tissues - they work great on tears.

The good news for Dr. Brown's caller is that the daughter is communicating her need for help.  Absent consent, parents cannot access medical information for children over the age of 18.  Recognizing that one's child isn't typical' is painful for everyone involved. It is equally painful for an underperforming child to face that they don't measure up to expectations or the accomplishments of their siblings. Providing positive support is imperative and parents must do everything to avoid getting the dreaded call to pick up the body.  

Words are our arsenal

Years ago, a former boss said "words are our arsenal."  That phrase occurs to me whenever I am asked the minefield question "what do you do."  My answer stumbles - well, I was a lawyer you see, then I opted out and now I am a stay-at-home mom, except for when I'm a freelance writer, actress - oh, and my last child will leave home in a year.  Honestly, I go my gym, Equinox fitness in Woodbury.  It is my office, the place I go regularly and where I have colleagues.  But, basically, I don't really 'do' anything.  Well, today I am going to lunch with my sisters.  Does that count?

 Blame society, but we women manage to shoot ourselves in the foot just fine when, as stay-at-homes, we refer to ourselves as  'doing nothing' [yes, my dear Harvard Business School graduate friend, I am referring to you!].  I was so amused by a recent New York Times article describing the difficult adjustment experienced by recently unemployed men who are now at home focusing on their children.  Why wasn't it news when I felt exactly the same way?  How can it be assumed that any highly educated person will be  complacent to leave a career to care for children when that job ranks way down on the the social totem pole?    Somehow, the activity of raising children needs to be viewed as a job worthy of respect - an I don't exclude myself from being chastised.  On this topic, I highly recommend " The Price of Motherhood," by Anne Crittenden.  

Viewing one's self as 'not working' or 'not doing' anything productive is dangerously depressing.  We are always doing something; looking for a job, caring for children, developing a new business or actively taking a break.    So, what is a soon to be excessed Mom to do?   I fear that employers take a dim view of outsourced stay-at-homes.  At the moment, my solution is to use my writing skills.  My objective is work as a consultant to write web content, marketing materials and consult with not for profit organizations about marketing and fundraising. We'll see how that goes.  for now, I am working on my blog.  Hope you enjoyed.

Have a great day!

Mommy, full throttle

Today, I am in Mommy mode - full throttle.  Laura is going on a trip this afternoon and called to ask if I could make sandwiches for two other girls.  The super mom never says no.  In fact, super mom makes brownies from scratch.  They really aren't that hard - use the one bowl brownies recipe on the box of unsweetened Baker's chocolate, but use less than the 2 cups of sugar called for by the recipe.  Super mom knows stuff about baking, don't ya know.  

Truth time; I have a lump in my throat.  Surely, dear reader, you realize that those aren't merely brownies.   Reflected in those brownies is a devotion that I will have the privilege to express for the briefest of time.  Then I get fired, which is why I started writing this in the first place.  Now, I understand why older relatives so willingly lavish love, food and care.  Time is fleeting, and if we are wise, we seize every opportunity to express love and make others feel special.  

Crying is not an option, because I am wearing makeup.  If you are wondering what the sandwiches symbolize, I couldn't tell you; they haven't been made yet.  But make them, I must.  Then, I am off to Connecticut to visit Allison.