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Tuesday afternoons bring a sweet reprieve. Up at Meg’s farm, we exist without clocks or schedules, freed from the effort of our busy-ness. The dim horse barn is a cave of patience, exuding a balm of animal musk, hay, sawdust, grain, and leather.


Twelve horses graze in the surrounding pastures; their collective breath soothes the day’s agitation. I lie in the dappled sun on a blanket beneath the old apple tree, quizzing nine-year-old Ava on her spelling words while Carmen has her riding lesson.

Gutsy, gallop, glitter

Ava nails them all. These are the words she already got wrong in school, and she won’t make the same mistakes twice. I watch Carmen (age seven) trot along on Buddy the pony, a handsome little fellow with a gleaming chocolate coat and a big Napoleon complex. Carmen posts bouncily, a bit off-kilter, trying to keep time with Buddy’s quick trot.

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“Quiet hands, heels down,” calls Meg, and indeed my girl’s hands are not quiet, bouncing about with her gait. There’s so much to remember – how to steer with her body, lead with her gaze, ride like a queen, spine-to-spine with the animal.

Late goldenrod teems beyond the dusty ring. Ava lies on her belly plucking pieces of grass, always fidgety, fingers in motion. Why can’t she keep still? I manage to resist irritation, close my eyes and try to savor the moment, drain the last drops of elixir from summer’s goblet.

Goblet, gutless, gasping

Fourth-grade spelling is harder than I remember, though I don’t remember much from that year beyond my sticker collection, stored in a spiral-bound book behind protected pages – puffy stickers, googly-eyed ones, scratch-n-sniff, and the precious, rainbowed, oily stickers that changed colors when you stroked them. We traded stickers during recess and choice time, and the collecting and wanting went on for months until I swapped my entire collection for Lely Campbell’s roller-skating Smurfette. My friends couldn’t believe I’d given up everything. But I was ready for the change; I never looked back.

Gimmick, gunnysack, gladiator

Ava spells it with an –er, then quickly backtracks and corrects herself.

“No! Don’t tell me! I know it,” she cries.

Four mares graze in the pasture beside the ring. If given the chance by a timid rider, Buddy will stop in mid-lesson, pause by the fence closest to the females, and stamp his feet like a matador, whinnying loudly to prove his importance. The dignified mares rarely glance his way, more interested in munching timothy and navigating their own complex social hierarchies. The horse farm is not unlike a school playground, its daily displays of power and exclusivity. Ava and I laugh at Buddy’s bravado, and she throws little piles of grass in my lap.

“Mommy, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, honey.”

“What happens if you’re not at home when you get your period?”

The afternoon light darkens a shade, the blue-grey tinge of a coming storm. I draw in a breath. “Wow. Have you been thinking about this?” My first baby just turned nine, has crossed over this summer into the big-kid realm, now closer to adolescence than she is to preschool.

“A little,” she admits.

“Well, you probably have a good two years before your period comes. At least two,” I say hopefully. “But it’s good to be prepared.”

She’s quiet, plucking more grass, never still. I put my hand over hers.

“If you were at school you could go to Nurse Amy,” I say, “and she’d give you a pad and call me and I’d pick you up.” Ava half-smiles.

I continue: “And if you were at a friend’s house you could tell the mom – if you felt comfortable – and she’d help you and call me. But really, it’s good to know that just a little bit of blood comes out at first. You can fold up some toilet paper and put it in your panties, and you’ll be fine.”

“Really?” She looks relieved. Had she imagined a gushing river? She’s heard me talk about getting my period on Christmas in sixth grade, in the midst of family chaos in my grandparents’ three-story Tudor. The cousins had woken early to the lemony scent of Milanderli cookies baking, the black velvet curtains in the living room drawn tight. Behind the velvet waited the wondrous tree, decorated in the night by the grown-ups during their very merry gin-and-tonic party.

I’d lain awake past midnight listening to the tidal ebb and flow of their laughter, imagining the fairy lights, the heirloom candleholders from Switzerland, the cherished ornaments unwrapped from tissue nests. In the morning, a small city of presents lay waiting to be razed.

At 11, I longed to be included in the annual decorating, hated being lumped together with my baby cousins. I was in a rush to grow up, but there was so much I didn’t understand. The fiery scald of the spiked eggnog, my grandfather’s red-faced, too-loud laugh, my petite grandmother scurrying nervously back and forth to her basement headquarters, her stores of wrapping paper, ribbons, tape and cards piled on the ping-pong table — and the brownish stains on my panties I’d noticed for a few days.

How strange and shameful – had I not wiped well enough? I balled up the panties and stuffed them in the bottom of my suitcase, took out a clean pair, but the same thing kept happening. I told no one, used more toilet paper, tried to wipe fastidiously until finally the dull-brown color tinged into red and I understood. A vague shock flooded my belly. So this was the legacy of my Judy Blume education.

I went searching for my mother in the rambling house, found her in the cookie-dough kitchen in a floury apron with my baby sister on her lap. Whispered in her ear: “Mama, I got my period.”

“Oh, sweetie!” She hugged me close, said she was proud, but pride had nothing to do with it. I followed her to my grandmother’s bathroom closet, flushed with embarrassment at my body’s early betrayal. I didn’t want anyone else to know.

Plague, hieroglyph, foliage

These are the challenge words. Ava must memorize the rules and the exceptions. The apple truck thunders by the horse farm with its stacked crates balanced. September rustles in a translucent procession of green and gold, ochre and rust. It happens every year, so why am I amazed? The cycle of change unveiled before us, the trees surrendering the ghosts of summer.

Bandage, gymnast, archeology

Ava recites them perfectly. This fall she is a vision of mastery, running the one-mile faster each week in cross country, urging Fable the chestnut Morgan into a smooth canter when it’s her turn to ride. But some nights she can’t fall asleep, even after a hot bath and warm milk with honey, after deep breathing and guided relaxation.

Eventually, I give her homeopathic Calms Forte tablets, and sometimes resort to Benadryl, two teaspoons, her eyes wide with the insomniac’s horror: What if I stay awake all night? When I rub her third eye and the nape of her neck, she softens like a rag beneath my fingers.

I try to soothe my daughter’s anxiety despite the quiet undercurrent of my own. I try to answer questions as they arise, help both my girls remember rules I may have forgotten or never knew: spelling, math, horses, friendships.

Some afternoons Ava rides her bike home after lessons, one mile down the dirt road from Meg’s farm to our house. This privilege is granted because she is careful, keeps to the right, obeys all traffic laws, brakes when she hears a car. Many mothers I know would not allow such freedom, but I relish the convenience and trust our rural neighborhood. And I love how gracefully she coasts into the driveway, sitting tall, hair streaming, cheeks flushed, as if she’s returned to the fold after a brief, private journey.

 

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When it comes to holiday gifts, we know what you really want, mama. A full night's sleep. Privacy in the bathroom. The opportunity to eat your dinner while it's still hot. Time to wash—and dry!—your hair. A complete wardrobe refresh.


While we can't help with everything on your list (we're still trying to figure out how to get some extra zzz's ourselves), here are 14 gift ideas that'll make you look, if not feel, like a whole new woman. Even when you're sleep deprived.

Gap Cable-Knit Turtleneck Sweater

When winter hits, one of our go-to outfits will be this tunic-length sweater and a pair of leggings. Warm and everyday-friendly, we can get behind that.

$69.95

Gap Cigarette Jeans

These high-waisted straight-leg jeans have secret smoothing panels to hide any lumps and bumps (because really, we've all got 'em).

$79.95

Tiny Tags Gold Skinny Bar Necklace

Whether engraved with a child's name or date of birth, this personalized necklace will become your go-to piece of everyday jewelry.

$135.00

Gap Brushed Pointelle Crew

This wear-with-anything soft pink sweater with delicate eyelet details can be dressed up for work or dressed down for weekend time with the family. Versatility for the win!

$79.95

Gap Flannel Pajama Set

For mamas who sleep warm, this PJ set offers the best of both worlds: cozy flannel and comfy shorts. Plus, it comes with a coordinating eye mask for a blissed-out slumber.

$69.95

Spafinder Gift Card

You can't give the gift of relaxation, per say, but you can give a gift certificate for a massage or spa service, and that's close enough!

$50.00

Gap Stripe Long Sleeve Crewneck

This featherweight long-sleeve tee is the perfect layering piece under hoodies, cardigans, and blazers.

$29.95

Gap Chenille Smartphone Gloves

Gone are the days of removing toasty gloves before accessing our touchscreen devices—thank goodness!

$9.95

Ember Temperature Control Smart Mug

Make multiple trips to the microwave a thing of the past with a app-controlled smart mug that'll keep your coffee or tea at the exact temperature you prefer for up to an hour.

$79.95

Gap Flannel Shirt

Our new favorite flannel boasts an easy-to-wear drapey fit and a flattering curved shirttail hem.

$59.95

Gap Sherpa-Lined Denim Jacket

Stay warm while looking cool in this iconic jean jacket, featuring teddy bear-soft fleece lining and a trendy oversized fit.

$98.00

Gap Crazy Stripe Scarf

Practical and stylish, this cozy scarf adds a pop of color—well, colors—to any winter ensemble.

$39.95

Nixplay Seed Frame

This digital picture frame is perfect for mamas who stay up late scrolling through their phone's photo album to glimpse their kiddos being adorable. By sending them to this smart frame to view throughout the day, you can get a few extra minutes of sleep at night!

$165.00

Gap Crewneck Sweater

Busy mamas will appreciate that this supersoft, super versatile Merino wool sweater is machine washable.

$59.95

This article was sponsored by GAP. Thank you for supporting the brands that support Motherly and Mamas.

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There's a lot of discussion about the importance of early education—but what about soft skills like respect and kindness? How can mamas teach children important values like cooperation, gratitude, empathy or politeness?

These values are basic, foundational beliefs that help us know right from wrong, that give balance and meaning to life and that enable us to form community bonds with one another. These soft skills are crucial for kids to learn at any age, and it's important for them to be reinforced, both in the classroom and at home, throughout their childhood.

Here are fundamental ways to build character in your young children:

Kindness

Performing random acts of kindness can have a positive influence on both the individual showing and receiving the kindness. As a family, think of ways that each one of you can show kindness to others. Some ideas may include baking cookies for the mail carrier, donating an unopened toy to a local charity, purchasing canned goods for a homeless shelter or leaving notes and drawings for the neighbors. Include your child in the process so they can see firsthand the joy that kindness can bring to others.

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Responsibility

Children have a strong desire to mimic adult family members. Encourage your child to help complete simple chores in and around the house. Children feel a great sense of accomplishment when they can do their share and feel that sense of responsibility. Two-year-olds will enjoy folding towels, putting books away, putting paper in the recycling box and tending to the garden. Older children may enjoy helping out in the kitchen or with yard work.

Patience

Patience is the ability to demonstrate self-control while waiting for an event to occur. It also refers to the ability to remain calm in the face of frustration. This is a skill which develops in children as they mature. While it is important to practice patience, adults should also be realistic in their expectations, evaluate daily routines and eliminate long periods of wait time from the schedule.

Politeness

Schedule a time when the whole family can sit down together for dinner. Model good manners and encourage older siblings and other members of the family to do the same. Use phrases such as, "Can you please pass the potatoes?" or "Thank you." Be sure to provide your child with guidance, by explaining what to do as opposed to what not to do.

Flexibility

Change your routines at home to encourage children to be flexible in their thinking and to try new things. Try being flexible in the small things: enjoy breakfast for dinner, eat ice cream with a fork, have your child read a bedtime story to you or have a picnic in the living room. Let your child know it is okay to do things in a different way.

Empathy

Children are beginning to understand different emotions and that others have feelings. Throughout their childhood, talk about their feelings and share one's own feeling with them as well. By taking the time to listen to how children are feeling, you will demonstrate to them that you care and reinforce with them that you fully understand how they are feeling.

Cooperation

Coordinate playdates or take your children to events where they can practice introducing themselves to other children, and potentially with adults. Find games and other activities that require turn-taking and sharing.

Gratitude

Encourage your child to spend five minutes every day listing the things they are grateful for. This could be done together just before bedtime or after dinner.

Respect

As parents, our goal is to teach children to recognize that even though people have different likes and dislikes or beliefs and ideas, they must treat each other with manners and positivity. Respect should be shown when sharing, cleaning up, and listening to others. Always teach and model the Golden Rule: treat others the way you would like to be treated. Also remind children that respect can be shown towards things in the classroom. Treating materials and toys correctly shows appreciation for the things we have.
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Medical researchers and providers consider a woman's postpartum period to be up to 12 months after the delivery of baby, but too often, health insurance doesn't see it the same way. Nearly half of the births in the United States are covered by Medicaid or the Children's Health Insurance Program (CHIP) and while the babies who are born during these births are eligible for Medicaid or CHIP for a year, their mothers often lose their coverage 60 days after delivering their child. There is clear data showing 70% of new moms will have at least one health complication within a year of giving birth.

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This week, members of Congress' Subcommittee on Health met to mark up H.R. 4996, the "Helping Medicaid Offer Maternity Services (MOMS) Act of 2019, and it was favorably forwarded to the full Committee.

What does this mean? It means that while this bill still has a ways to go before it potentially becomes law, its success would see states get the option to provide 12 months of continuous coverage postpartum coverage to mothers on Medicaid. This would save lives.

As we at Motherly have said many times, it takes a considerable amount of time and energy to heal from birth. A mother may not be healed 60 days out from delivering. She may still require medical care for perinatal mood disorders, breast issues like thrush and mastitis, diabetes, and the consequences of traumatic births, like severe vaginal tearing.

Cutting off Medicaid when her baby is only 2 months old makes mom and baby vulnerable, and the Helping Moms Act could protect families from dire consequences.

The United States has the highest rate of maternal deaths in the developed world, and according to the CDC, "about 700 women die each year in the United States as a result of pregnancy or delivery complications." This is not okay, and while H.R. 4996 is not yet signed into law this bill could help change this. It could help address the racial disparities that see so many Black mothers and Native American mothers dying from preventable causes in the first year of motherhood.

A report from nine American maternal mortality review committees found that there were three leading causes of death that occurred between 43 days and one year postpartum: cardiomyopathy (32.4%), mental health conditions (16.2%), and embolism (10.8%) and multiple state maternal mortality review committees have recommended extending Medicaid coverage to one year postpartum in order to prevent these deaths.

Basically, making sure that moms have have continuous access to health care the year after a birth means doctors can spot issues with things like depression, heart disease and high blood pressure at regular check-ups and treat these conditions before they become fatal.

The Helping Moms Act is a step forward in the fight for maternal health and it proves that maternal health is truly a bipartisan issue. Republicans and Democrats alike recognize the value in providing support for mothers during the postpartum period.

The Helping MOMS Act was was introduced by Democratic Congresswoman Robin Kelly of Illinois, chair of the Congressional Black Caucus Health Braintrust. It was co-lead by Texas Republican Michael Burgess (who is also a medical doctor), as well as Georgia Republican Buddy Carter, Washington Republicans Jaime Herrera Beutler and Cathy McMorris Rodgers and Ayanna Pressley from Massachusettes and Lauren Underwood of Illinois (both Democrats).

"Incentivizing postpartum Medicaid expansion is a critical first step in preventing maternal deaths by ensuring new moms can see their doctor. I'm proud that my colleagues, on both sides of the aisle, came together to put an end to the sad reality of American moms dying while growing their families," said Kelly. "We can't allow the perfect to be the enemy of the good. This is a good, bipartisan first step, but it must be the first of many."

It doesn't matter what your political stripes, reducing America's maternal mortality stats should be a priority.

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Whether you're having a low-key Friendsgiving with your closest friends or prepping to host your first big Thanksgiving dinner with both families, figuring out all of the menu details can be the most overwhelming step. How much should I cook? What ingredients do I need? How does one actually cook a turkey this big?

But, don't worry, mama—HelloFresh is lending a helping hand this year with their Thanksgiving box in collaboration with Jessica Alba. Because you already have enough on your plate (and we're not talking stuffing).


Here are the details. You can choose from two Thanksgiving boxes: Turkey ($152) or beef tenderloin ($132). The turkey box serves 8-10 people while the beef one will serve 4-6 and both are $6.99 to ship. We got to try both and they're equally delicious so you can't go wrong with either one, but the turkey does require a 4-day thaw period so keep that in mind. And if you're wondering what the sides are, here's a sneak peek:

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  • Garlic mashed potatoes
  • Green bean casserole with crispy onions
  • Ciabatta stuffing with chick sausage and cranberries
  • Cranberry sauce with orange, ginger and cinnamon
  • Apple ginger crisp with cinnamon pecan crumble

While someone still has to do the actual cooking, it's designed to take the stress out of Thanksgiving dinner so you can focus on spending time with your loved ones (or watching Hallmark Christmas movies). You don't have to worry about grocery shopping, portion sizes, recipe curation or forgetting that essential thing you needed to make the meal perfect. Everything is super simple to make from start to finish—it even comes with a cooking timeline.

Orders are open through November 21 and can be delivered anytime through November 24. Even better? You don't need a subscription to order.


ORDER A BOX

We independently select and share the products we love—and may receive a commission if you choose to buy. You've got this.

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My mother's death propelled me to start the process of becoming a parent as a 43-year-old single woman. As my connection to her remained strong in spirit after her death, I was ready to experience the same bond with my own child. I began the journey with Intra Uterine Insemination (IUI), and after three failed attempts at getting pregnant, I decided to adopt.

The adoption process is a lengthy and humbling one—one that includes fingerprints, background checks, references, classes, doing a profile of yourself and your life that birth parents eventually use to choose adoptive families.

After my application was approved, a young couple chose me just a month later. I couldn't believe my fortune. But I had to get to work and prepare the house for my baby's arrival. I bought the best of everything—bassinets, clothes, diapers, car seats… the list goes on. I told close friends and family that it was finally happening.

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But all of this was in vain. The day I was supposed to pick my daughter up, I learned that the birth parents had changed their minds. They no longer wanted to give their daughter up for adoption. As time passed, it was difficult to endure no interest from potential parents but the faith in believing what is meant to be continued. To increase my potential, I enrolled with a second adoption agency.

A few months later, as I was getting ready to try IVF for the first time, I received a phone call to let me know that a woman had selected me to adopt her child. So I opted out of IVF and found myself in a hospital delivery room with the birth mother, assisting her in the delivery of MY child. It was a boy! I was so thrilled, and he was just adorable.

After six years of losses and disappointments, I was able to bring him home and awaited the final word that the mother and father have given the needed consent. I was getting ready to watch the Super Bowl with him dressed in football gear, I got a phone call.

Once again, the adoption agency informed me that the birth mother had changed her mind. That evening, I had to return the baby to his birth mom. I was heartbroken, and my hopes were shattered.

What now? Going back to IVF meant starting from scratch, and that would take a minimum of six months before being able to really start getting pregnant. I was 49 years old, and the clock was ticking. I really wanted to be a mom by the age of 50.

I was in Chicago, recovering from a collapsed lung, when I received yet another phone call from the adoption agency. An expecting mom had chosen me and had already signed over all of her rights. This little girl was mine. For real, this time. But I had to get to Southern New Jersey by Thursday to pick her up from the hospital.

After negotiating with my doctor to give me the green light to leave while recovering from my condition, I hopped on a train, and 22 hours later, I arrived to New York City in a massive snow storm. I took longer than expected to get to her, but after navigating the icy roads of New Jersey, I met my daughter!

She is now 2 years old, and she has changed my life in ways that just can't be fully described. What I can say is that I now understand my mother's love even more and her devotion to me and my siblings, and as I am sharing the same with my daughter, my bond to my mother keeps on growing.

Becoming a mom at 49 was never what I had envisioned. But whether you are trying to conceive or have decided to adopt a child, the road to becoming a parent is rarely easy. I know that inner strength and believing in what was meant to be kept me moving forward.

Life
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