Super-mom Susan Tordella:

Every mom is a super mom because being a mom requires learning how to put other people’s needs ahead of our own, and management skills – of our emotions, of other people, and of a home.

My four kids were born in seven years by the time I was 29 years old. This was a blessing and a challenge. After having three children in three and a half years, I realized two things: to surrender to their needs because we were outnumbered; and to get help through parenting groups.

My children have given me so many gifts that I feel privileged to be their mother. Even though raising our kids required a lot of work, time and money, the rewards are worth it.

The most valuable gift they gave me was to learn patience, to slow down and wait for them to learn. They were so patient with me while I learned parenting skills – how to set reasonable boundaries with them and be kind, firm and consistent. The journey was never smooth or straight. How boring would that be!?

Even though sometimes motherhood was overwhelming, I cherish the days I spent doing things together as a family – cooking, eating and cleaning up together; going places – as simple as taking walks or going to the pool; doing crafts and chores – yes, even chores; reading and playing together on a regular day; supporting each other; laughing and telling stories.

I did my best to love and support my children through every stage. I strived to be the best mother possible, which meant forgiving myself and them for being human. My goal was that they grow up strong and independent, able to love and be loved, to make good decisions, and to want to have a relationship with me. After age 18, it’s optional to have a relationship with parents.

Mine have chosen to have relationships with me now that they’re ages 23 to 30. They are still the most important thing in my life. They have given me a focus – to raise them, to learn positive parenting skills, and to share what I learned with other parents.

While my kids were growing up, I attended parenting support groups and then led them – following the saying, “You teach what you most need to know.” In 2010 I wrote a book on how chores teach the priceless gift of self-discipline. Learning to manage my children and sustain a positive relationship with them required me to learn the skills of a CEO – with a kind heart, a generous wallet and coaching them to believe, “You can do it.”

We taught each other, “You can do it.” Now I teach parents “You can do it.” Raising them has been the most instructive, challenging, rewarding, and fun task of my life, with the longest lasting consequences. We do give our kids roots and wings. It requires careful tending of the soil, with water, sun, and community, followed by the perilous journey of learning to fly. What an adventure.

Susan Tordella

Egg-ducator

K-12 Bullying awareness & prevention

www.fowlbehavior.net

Super-Mom, Elizabeth Rovere

My Daughter’s name is Anjali. She is 1 ½ years old.

Anjali Mudra is hands in prayer or namaste hands. The palms of the hand are brought together in front of the heart. Anjali comes from the root “anj” in sanskrit which means to “honor” or “celebrate the divine”.  Mudra is a hand gesture. Anjali mudra is translated as either a divine offering or a divine gift. In many parts of Asia, anjali mudra is accompanied by the words Namaste which means I bow to you. It is a symbol of greeting and respect- a kind of “Sacred Hello”, essentially, I honor and acknowledge the spirit in you that is also in me.”  The Namaste salutation was transmitted from ancient India to the countries of South-east Asia, and  has now become a universal symbol of offering and prayer.

In the yogic tradition, bringing our hands together at the heart center unites the right and left sides of the brain, and is symbolic of uniting masculine and feminine energies. The right hand represents the divine
self; the left hand represents matter and earth. Prayer hands unite the spirit and matter inherent in us all.: “The light in me bows to the light in you”.

While pregnant, my husband and I pondered many names, seeking one that combined self-assuredness, spirituality, and love. Our search for a name took us down a number of paths. I was drawn to the name Isis. Brian liked Attila, claiming that it was a powerful name and that he wouldn’t have to worry about her prom date with a name like that. We both liked Grace, but couldnt commit to it. With two months left in the pregnancy, we were still debating names.

One day, while sitting in yoga class together, we began a meditation with hands in Anjali Mudra. The teacher said a few words about Anjali Mudra and its connection to divine gift/offering and something clicked. I remembered the first time I heard the Legend of Patanjali, on the yoga retreat where my husband and I first met. The legend of Patanjali is the origin of the prayer hands, Anjali Mudra. It is a  moving story and offers a most beautiful sense of what it means to be mother, and also child.

The Vedic Legend of Patanjali ( Patanjali is “father of yogic philosophy” and the author of the Yoga Sutra from the 3rd Century BCE)

According to legend, Lord Vishnu’s serpent god, Adisesa wished to be incarnated in human form so as to learn to dance to please the gods. Vishnu was very honored and told Adisesa, the serpent god, that soon he would be incarnated so that he could  both shower humanity with knowledge and blessings and also fulfill his desire to master dance. Adisesa immediately began to ponder on the question of who his mother would be. At the same time a virtuous woman named Gonika, who was totally devoted to yoga, was praying and seeking for someone to be a worthy son to her. She wanted to pass on the knowledge and understanding she had gained through yoga. Gonika prostrated herself before the Sun, the earthly manifestation of the light and presence of God. She scooped up the only gift she could find—a handful of water—and beseeched him to bestow her with a son. She then meditated upon the Sun and prepared herself to present her simple but sincere offering. On seeing all this Adisesa, the serpent god, knew that he had found the mother he was looking for. Just as Gonika was about to offer her handful of water to the Sun, she glanced down at her hands and was astonished to see a tiny serpent. She was even more astonished when, within a few moments, that serpent had assumed a human form. It was Adisesa, who then turned and prostrated before Gonika and pleaded with her to accept him as her son. She called him Patanjali, which in Sanskrit means “that which has fallen into reverent hands”. Pata means “graceful fall”, and anjali, “prayer hands”.

The story of Patanjali is about the the spirit seeking human form and about a human seeking spirit. Adisesa seeks an enlightened human form to teach and spread blessings ( and to dance!!). Gonika his mother prays for a soul or spirit to come for her to give birth to a child. In both instances there is a union of spirit and matter.

As I sat on the yoga mat, pregnant, the name Anjali began to resound in my head. And I liked the idea of a baby as a “divine gift”, a soul gracefully falling into one’s hands- one’s life.

Anjali would be my child’s name.

Today, Anjali is 18 months old and has fulfilled the promise of her name. She has brought love, joy, and happiness into our home, and every morning at six AM (if we are lucky) we begin our day with her.

Namaste  “The light in me bows to the light in you.”

Super-Mom Amy MacDougall

“Wow, you must have your hands full.”  I hear this sentence all the time, several times a day, while I am traipsing around Boston – usually our neighborhood – the Back Bay – with my three amazing children who are five, three, and seven months.  I usually have a double stroller, and I usually have my seven month old in an Ergo carrier, she’s usually nursing IN the carrier while we are strolling around.  Lots of times the double stroller is just a carrier for the diaper bag, snacks, and the doll or stuffed animal du jour and the older kids are walking, skipping, or holding onto the stroller and chatting.  I suppose I look quite daring to the people who say this – out and about galavanting all over Boston with three small children.  I never know quite how to respond, so I just smile and say, “It’s fun.”  And it is, it is fun.  It’s fun, and silly, and sometimes frustrating, and bittersweet, and loud, and wild, and and always always always full of love.  It’s full of moments of breathing and thinking, “I must remember the absolute perfection of this moment” and breathing and thinking “This too shall pass, it’s just a phase (s)he is going through.”  But mostly, it’s full of love and gratitude and faith in the universe that I am being the best Mom I can be to these three beautiful souls that have blessed my family, these three darling angels who I get to hang out with ALL the time until they grow up and make their own lives, and mostly I just try as hard as I possibly can to treasure every single absolute millisecond of the time they are still mine, because that’s all that I can really do – just be in the moment with them with joy and love and gratitude – love them and hang out with them and know that the universe has entrusted me with their care because I’m the best person to take care of them and love them, and teach them, and tickle them, and kiss them, and explore the world with them while trying all the while to instill in them the most important fact ever, that they are so totally, unconditionally, and absolutely loved, and that they always always always will be.

Amy MacDougall

Super-Mom to Madeline (age 5), Andrew (age 3), and Hailey (7 months)

Super-mom Jennifer Walsh

Taylor asked me to be the Supermom this month.  Thank you!  I love my 3 boys and I always wanted to be a mom.  I also have to thank Taylor for bringing the yoga and café into our neighborhood.  I have been practicing for 9 years and it has helped me in so many ways, not the least of which is to be the best Mom I can be.  Time on the mat has helped me stay peaceful, healthy and happy.

I had to take several weeks to think about what I could write for this great honor.  During these weeks we celebrated Mother’s Day and my oldest son’s 15^th birthday.  Each special day brought cards with colorful drawings and heartfelt words, and special meals and activities. These big celebrations make the individuals in our family feel special and loved on their big day.  I noticed that along with these big celebrations, there are small moments every day that we have that make us all feel special and loved.  It reminds me of the little game I played for hours with my boys when they were young; sitting on the floor and rolling a ball back and forth, catching, smiling, rolling, watching, speaking and laughing.  There was always so much glee to have the ball and it often took time to learn to roll it back.  Now that the boys are 15,12 and 9, we have these same exchanges every day.  There isn’t a ball, and there aren’t always squeals of glee, but we still take turns letting the light shine on us, and shining the light on others.  Recognizing these small moments and relishing them as much as I did the beautiful mother’s day breakfast and trip to the MFA last Sunday is the gift of super-mom contemplation.

Reading past notes of the Supermoms shows that the best way to be a Supermom is to enjoy the moments that you are in and recognize the benefits of the ages that your kids are at that moment.  All the moms are at different ages and stages. For me, right now, I am loving the flexibility and curiosity that the kids can show if we travel to a new place, read new books, play old games in a new way and especially laugh at each other’s great jokes.  Everyone helps in the kitchen during meal time, makes their own breakfast and lunches and can give a high-five or hug to whoever needs it at the moment.

I remember fondly the days of pregnancy, nursing, naps, first words, diapers, and crying.  Those days are over for us but I don’t spend time missing them.  I have learned not to spend time worrying too much about the future either (in 3 years I’ll have 3 teenage boys!).  The moments that are happening now, big and small, are what makes me feel like a Supermom.

Jennifer Walsh

Cameron, Henry and Liam Walsh

Super-Mom Maggie da Silva

I am mom to three fabulous kids – a 7-year-old son and 4-year-old boy/girl twins. When the kids are home from school, I just want to do simple, fun things with them. I don’t want to do anything that involves buying a lot of ingredients or materials. That’s why most things in my Halloween book (crafts, recipes, costumes, decorations) are easy to make and don’t require extra shopping trips. I’d rather spend time with my kids than shopping.

I’ve always been a big holidays person, even when I was single, in my 20’s. And once I had kids, I started planning them way in advance. In 2003, while I was pregnant with our first child, my husband and I bought him a Halloween costume in utero (a lion outfit). And he was due in February! That tells you how excited we get about the holidays in my house. (And he was a really cute, little lion.)

I try to write an enjoyable, satisfying book – something a person would want to read in bed, just for fun. And my wish for all of us parents is that we find ways to spend more time with our kids. For me, that means doing easy, fun activities, and I hope other parents get something out of that.

Super-Mom Linda Spolidoro

Am I a Super-Mom?  Wonder-Woman, maybe; I do often wonder what the heck I am doing as a mother, and I have never even considered the moniker, Super-Mom until now.  I have certainly, in true super-hero fashion, conjured up some magic in the form of money at times when funds were scarce.  Like when my oldest daughter wanted to apply for an ever increasing number of dance classes at an extremely expensive (overpriced) and prestigious (snobby) Dance Studio, and I smiled and said ‘sure, honey.’  Well, maybe it wasn’t really magic, but I did have to pick up an ever increasing number of waitressing shifts to ‘conjure’ up the hefty tuition.

I have also leapt tall buildings in a single bound.  Like the time my youngest daughter, balloon foolishly tied to her wrist, got tangled at the top of the jungle gym and was dangling precariously from the slide.  Well, maybe it wasn’t a tall building, but I assure you it was a single bound; I never moved so fast and with such precision in my life.

My X-Ray vision is pretty good, too.  Like how both my daughters do not realize that I can see inside them better than any person on the planet, including themselves.  And I have also stretched myself into some pretty impossible positions in the service of their organized and relatively stress-free days.

However, I wasn’t able to stop the metaphorical bullet that pierced my oldest daughter’s heart, when she went through the heartache of a first love breakup.  I wasn’t able to stop her from turning away from me when she needed me most.  I wasn’t able to put a force field around my youngest daughter, deflecting the hurtful words hurled at her from her peers, and I wasn’t able to send my oldest daughter to the ‘school of her dreams’, no matter how many waitress shifts I worked.

So if it is not really about stopping bullets, or leaping tall buildings, or always being able to protect my children from heartache and disappointment, what is it that makes me a Super-Mom? Well, the answer turns out to be pretty easy, after all.  There is simply no other person on this planet that loves my children more, always puts them first, and would do anything to promote their happiness than me.  So what makes me a Super-Mom? My daughters do.

Super-Mom Kathy Gaalaas

When Taylor asked me to be her “Super Mom of the Month,” I was floored and honored. But in the next moment I said, “But I’m not THAT super.” She wrote back: “You ARE A SUPERMOM! So own it, Sister! ” Well, OK then!

My “reasons” for saying I wasn’t a Super-mom in the first place was that I’m “just” a stay-at-home mom. I have an amazing 21-month old. It’s easy most days, I don’t work out of the home and I truly enjoy my time with her. With something this easy, how can I be defined as a “Super” anything? Don’t super-type people work really hard and have a lot of “stuff” to do? I used to be that way, but my life has become simpler.

After hearing back from Taylor, I thought about this at a deeper level. I owed it to myself. I’ve learned through my three years of practicing yoga at Prana that things TRULY happen for a reason. Maybe this was the time for me to sit back and see what I’ve accomplished in almost two years with Jackie. I’ve had a tendency all my life to not give myself the credit I deserve. When I get into a routine or pattern with something (job, partner, friend), it then becomes old hat. I can coast.  I never thought I would have this feeling as a mom (especially when Jackie was only weeks old!), but it happened due to my organized nature and new found wisdom. So I had to ask myself again: “What is a Super-mom?” Or I should say: “How am I a Super-mom?”

This exercise led me on a quest to find my “super-ness” and to really honor who I am as a woman, mom, wife and human being. It was tough. Really tough. I compare, judge and whatever else to make things hard. Why does it have to be that way? It’s time to stop, take a breath and just look around. Or more specifically, look at my daughter.

She’s beautiful, smart, happy, inquisitive. She loves people, music, running and the swings. Her DownDog is killer. She gets frustrated easily, but laughs just as quick. She’s funny and goofy, all the while, intense and sensitive. Wow. They say your kids are a mirror of you. They were right. She is her mother’s daughter.

I’ve never wanted to take credit for who my daughter is. I’m here to shape her, help her, but she’s her own person, her own personality. But I guess when it really comes down to it our kids are models of us. They look to us for guidance, but also how to be. If she’s a reflection of me, well then, I’m pretty awesome. I have to be honest and say it’s really difficult for me to say about myself, but this is an exercise. Maybe it is time to give myself a bit of credit.

Hello, everyone. My name is Kathy and I’m—a Super-mom.

Super-Mom Julia Wilson

I think it is funny that the first thought I had when emailing back to Taylor about writing an entry for the Super-mom blog is, “but, I am not doing anything.” A thought I expect that I have had, at various points along my pregnancy, and is exactly why I am sitting in bed now.  It was the only way to get me to stop doing and simply be there for my daughter who will be born pre-term, my doctor has advised me, if I do not rest.

It came at quite a shock to me when the first ultrasound came back that might have suggested fluid levels and that Gabriela appeared to not be gaining weight.   When the second ultrasound confirmed she hadn’t grown much, I received the doctor’s orders to stay in bed.  I am currently 36 weeks pregnant with my first child, a girl who will be named Gabriela (a name my husband and I picked because you can say it both in Portuguese and English and it doesn’t sound funny in either).  I am American but my husband is Brazilian and we live in Sao Paulo.  The objective for my doctor, is to reduce my activity so that more nutrition can go directly to her and not compete with me.

The emotions that I have experienced since being confined to my house have ranged from guilt, fear, annoyance, denial to gratitude and hope.   Sitting at home at first gave me plenty of space to experience the guilt in thinking that because I don’t eat meat, drink milk or like eggs that my daughter is not gaining weight fast enough.  Also for the first real time, I felt the true fear that my body has been entrusted to care, nurture and bring life to another being and I somehow was not living up to the task.  Then, sitting a bit longer and feeling that my body felt just fine, I felt annoyed that I was at home when there were some many things I could do and a team of people that I left on short notice without much direction.

Yet, among the tumult of emotions and the insomnia, I am realizing that bed-rest is a gift and a state of being I was unable to appreciate before.  Without it, I may have worked up until the day before, mother and daughter waking up in the maternity ward startled and wondering what exactly have we done.  But now, I am grateful for the time I have to read – not baby how-to books, but the inspiring stories of other women and to catch up with old friends – a little shout out to how fun Facebook is and how inspiring the super-mom website is when you cannot leave your house.  I have the chance to experience pregnancy not as a series of to-do lists, but for what it is: the rewarding task of bringing new life into the world.  I hope that with rest and lots of positive thinking Gabriela will stay put and thrive inside the womb.  The good thing that has happened with bed-rest though, is that I am also beginning to accept that if she does arrive early, that will be okay too.

The Super-Mom Game of Chance

by Heather Atwood

Super-Mom talk makes me nervous, because the one thing I think I’ve learned as a mother is that as soon as you think you’re right you’re wrong. As soon as you say, “My child would never do that,” they do something worse. As soon as you reach over your shoulder to give yourself a congratulatory pat on the back for remembering to pack snacks, your four-year-old strips naked on the playground and you handle it really badly because you’re really too immature to have perspective, and your wildest social insecurities make you believe that all the other Super-Moms catching toddlers at the foot of the twisty-slide are snickering. All that packed-snack smugness gets chucked and you’re a screaming crazy woman carrying away a naked, kicking child.

It’s the moments when I was trying to be a mother that I seem to have really blown. When I was making the kinds of decisions that felt technically “parenty” I stumbled the worst, decisions like where does she go to preschool? Does she take the group or private skating lesson?

And then later, is skating an appropriate sport for a young girl? What about her mind?

And even later, maybe we should stop spending all this money on skating lessons and send her to a private school that really challenges her, that teaches her to think critically?

I can honestly say I answered each of those questions wrong. My daughter never should have started skating; she should have played soccer. But once she started skating, and she became very good at it, and she loved it, I never should have made her quit. That private school that challenges her? Well, she’s sixteen now, a sophomore; there’s been some bullying and a broken heart, but the vote is still out on that decision.

The times I didn’t think, the times I just acted on my love for my children, I think I did the right thing. I crawled into bed with them when they called me at night. I still do. I watched them carefully enough to notice the palest shadow cross over a middle-schooler’s brow, the seeds of a bad day that could have lead to real emotional trouble. I yelled too much, because I tend to be hot-headed and emotional, but sometimes I yelled because a grandparent who didn’t remember being a teenager, unknowingly said something darkly hurtful to my child, and then I crazily defended her. I’d like to think something will grow inside my daughters because their mother believed in them enough to make a fool of herself defending them, but remember, the second you think you’ve got it right you’re about to get it really wrong, so I’m stopping the self-congratulations right here.

My eldest daughter is in France for this academic term. She speaks beautiful French, but more importantly she has learned to handle a bad day in a foreign country speaking a language that isn’t hers, and get through it. She’s learned to sit at a computer and type her bad day into a tender, funny essay to which everyone can relate. She can sing Italian arias well enough to be accepted by a French Youth Orchestra, and this week she’ll sing with them in Bilbao and Barcelona. She draws tenderly observed pictures. Her heart still breaks, she tells me, when she sees photographs of herself skating.

My younger daughter once came home from a sleepover sad and angry because the girls had voted her “Prettiest,” not “Funniest.” I desperately wish they could both care more about their insides than their outer sides. I wished it because appearances plagued me, so I didn’t want it for them, but because I probably focused on it as a problem to solve, I probably invented the problem for them. See? It’s nuts, motherhood. So, the fact that my younger daughter values comedy over prettiness is probably just a genetic fluke for which I can take no credit, just the way I can take no credit for the fact that my older daughter has found beautiful, substantiative solutions to her Super-Mom’s wrong choices.

These are some of this Super-Mom’s ephemeral wins and losses.

Super Mom Lorraine Shedoudi

“A super-mom? Me? I haven’t had a baby yet!” That was my first thought when Taylor invited me to be the super-mom of the month…but then I realized that being a super-mom starts with intention. It starts before the baby arrives; it is an essence, an attitude, even a feeling. It just feels natural for me to love babies and kids with all my heart. It feels natural to encourage, appreciate and enjoy their natural process of discovery and wonder. I started babysitting when I was 12 and later became a nanny in college. Family and friends have always been a huge part of my life and it has been a blessing to have a big extended family (and friends who have always been invited into our extended family). My “Aunties” are a great mix of family and close friends. So I have been surrounded by super-moms and super-dads all my life and I still am!

In intending to become parents, we never know how or when our little ones will find their way into our lives, but when they do (even before they do) we become more amazing and more connected to the life force that inspires us to expand. As I prepare to have a baby and step into motherhood officially, I have never felt more supported. My husband is beaming with excitement and tells me how proud he is every single day. I also feel the women around me (every single one is a super-mom in some form) reminding me that they are on this journey with me. Some are paving the way, some are walking right beside me. Together, we are continuing along a journey of support and love that began so many generations ago. I feel like I am embarking on the biggest yogic experience of my life so far! It will be a continual process of transitions and balance, of resetting and listening to my heart. There will be quiet moments and moments that test my patience. Just like yoga, it is life at its best. I am so grateful that I have women in my life that “get it”; (they have literally shown me what it means to be a super-mom, a super-aunt, a super-friend) and men that are beyond loving and supportive. These are the people who help me to strive to be my BEST possible self every day of my life, they help me to give back and to share with an open heart.

Not only am I inspired and supported by my family and friends, but I am reminded on a daily basis just how supportive and amazing this community is, I am grateful that we have been placed in one another’s lives! This blog and this community remind me to set my intention, to welcome in love and support and to keep it real because you can’t get it wrong when you do your best! This is the legacy we are creating for our children and our children’s children… and just like in yoga, I am reminded that I am part of something bigger, something greater and that it continues to grow.