Dina L. Relles

Yesterday, Scary Mommy ran my piece On Single Mommin’ It…But Not Really. (In case you missed it, go ahead…check it out. I’ll still be here when you get back.)

What a perfect day for that post to be published. I’m sure many of us on the East Coast woke up to a morning logistically complicated by the significant snowfall the night before. Even before my little gang took to the outside, it was one of those mornings where I found myself unable to give each boy what he needs when he needs it. My middle was tormenting my oldest (a rare occurrence), while I was elbow-deep in changing the baby’s diaper. Then he sweetly insists that he sit on my lap just as my oldest requests a breakfast refill. In passing, I gratefully observe that it seems we’ve trained the baby to deliver choking hazards to the nearest adult or older brother instead of ingesting them (thanks for that tiny Lego piece, bud!). I make a mental note that we’re out of eggs. (We’re always out of something, because I dread grocery shopping. Tried it once spontaneously on my own with the three in tow. Won’t do that again.) And meanwhile, my mind is racing with all the things that must get done in order for us to leave the house (where is that shovel & salt? do the kids need to wear boots? is our parking lot plowed? is there still trash collection in the snow?), so I’m inevitably distracted. Always distracted.

I like to think my divided attention is good for them–for fostering their independence, patience, and low-maintenanceness. No helicopter-momming here, because I haven’t figured out how to fly three at once. Plus, that’s neither practical nor affordable.

And yesterday morning? When I was busy doing who-knows-what, my older boys came up with a creative little game involving sending a marble (choking hazard) through a makeshift “tunnel” (more Legos). They had the time of their lives.

So I’m curious to hear your thoughts. What do you do when you can’t meet your kids’ needs all at once? Is it ultimately good for them to have a parent with divided attention (at least some of the time–and provided, of course, they are safe, basic needs are met, etc.)? Drop me a note and let me know what you think.

And by the way–I may as well issue my Disclaimer now: If you don’t hear from me for a bit, just know I’m out there, enjoying every comment you send my way & crafting responses in my mind while I’m knee-deep in boy needs. While I intend to write here regularly, I’m determined to prioritize mothering over all. As I’ve mentioned, my hope is that this site helps me parent more deliberately, not more distractedly. So I beg your patience and understanding if it takes me some time to reply or post new content. Thank you!

And reading the comments to yesterday’s piece (yes, I did–and always will–read every single one), I was smiling through tears. I’m humbled that so many strong, beautiful women (and men!) took the time to read and respond.

After clearing the snow and ice off our van while my three guys waited warmly within, I was reminded that we–all of us–can handle more than we ever thought we could. This I know.

“Always do what you are afraid to do.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Why blog?

I struggle with this.

I’ve always wanted to write. But I find myself trying to justify writing about my life, as opposed to simply living it. Privately. For myself and my family.

Is it presumptuous to think my little life has something to offer others?

I worry about how to meaningfully contribute my voice to the highly saturated field of “mommy blogs.” But then, I worry about everything. I’ve been biting my nails for over 20 years. I like to think my nervousness is a good motivator, inspiring me to work hard and improve. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it keeps me from doing things – like dancing.

It’s scary to start to take on what I really want to do in life. Because I don’t want to fail. If I do this writing thing, I want to do it right. I don’t want to be fluffy or irrelevant. Or mediocre.

And it’s a bit uncomfortable to be putting myself out there – hell, I don’t even write product reviews on-line!

But I’m a knowledge-sharer and a people-connector. I love how the internet makes the world seem small. I follow bloggers all over the globe and feel as though I know them well. I am grateful they let me in.

Even though you’re scarcely ever alone as a mother, mothering can often feel lonely. My husband is a surgeon. Often, my boys and I “go it alone.” Reading, writing, blogging, tweeting, texting, sharing, and posting can serve as powerful ways for us to connect across space and time as we muddle through this parenting thing together. I’d love to be someone else’s remote company. And benefit from yours. I want to be a part of this little experiment that’s bringing us closer together.

I must remind myself – beginnings are hard. This will get easier. And more comfortable. I’m a big fan of comfortable.

I must slow down. Enjoy the process. I often fixate on the destination—and miss the journey. This won’t be a fully-populated blog overnight. And that’s ok.

In high school, I typed the words “Live Deliberately” on a little 1×3” piece of paper and taped it to my computer monitor – you know, the clunky TV-sized things we used to have in the 90s (kids, they used to look like this). The Thoreau quote still speaks to me.

When I catch myself getting too focused on where my gang is going and how quickly we can get there, when I’m rushing my kids into their kicks and coats and out the door for no good reason, when I’m antsy about getting them fed, washed, and into their beds, without slowing things down and appreciating time as it passes…if I remember, I say this phrase (“live deliberately”) quietly to myself, and it (usually) works.

For years, I prided myself on the ability to get to my desk at work, only slightly disheveled, with minimal evidence of the morning madness that preceded my arrival. Now, it feels good to have my professional and personal lives in better sync. To have the headspace to be more thoughtful about my mothering. To shed the stress and negativity and focus on the simple and good. To not just live for getting through the day, but to go through each day really living. To not sweat the small stuff. So I can appreciate the small stuff. To be better about putting down the dustpan and being present. Because what’s it matter if everything is clean if we’re not content?

I want to live, to parent, more deliberately.

Writing helps. And maybe, I thought, my writing could help others live more deliberately, too? Perhaps even just taking the time to read these words could help you slow it down, in whatever way is possible for you in your life, and appreciate, think, put on nail polish…feel grateful.

I’m not there yet. I’m a work in progress. But I hope you’ll join me.

And I hope you don’t mind if I ditch the heels and pencil skirts for a while and come to you with mussed up hair, sans makeup, and smelling faintly like spit-up. I think better that way.

But this transition is not without its growing pains. The other day, my oldest asked me “what I do,” and, trying on my new SAHM persona, I responded, “Well most of all, I take care of you!” He then encouraged me to “do two things” – like Daddy, “who is a daddy AND a doctor.”

Ouch. It got to me more than I thought it would. And as I chased after him into the next room frantically explaining that I’m also a lawyer, I realized just how hard it will be to adjust to this redefinition of my self-worth. (Stay tuned for more on lawyers-turned-SAHMs!)

So who am I?

I’m a mother of three sons, recovering lawyer, writer, aspiring doula, caffeine addict, and general Northeasterner. I have a B.A. in Ethics & Political Philosophy from Brown University and a J.D. from Fordham Law. But my real street cred comes from countless hours in breastfeeding and parenting discussion groups (like seriously—I’m a mommy group junkie), years of day care experience, and having pushed the whole working mom thing nearly to its breaking point. You can learn more here.

I know having three kids in three-and-a-half years hardly qualifies me as an “expert” in anything really – except maybe changing diapers. But I love helping people navigate birth and parenting with empathy, honesty, and humor. And I hope, over time, this site can become an online community that fosters dialogue, connects and supports people, and provides a space for us to slow down and be more deliberate. If I even affect one person out there, this will all be worth it.

I intend to write here on: