Carnegie Hill Mom

There’s a lie I tell myself that goes something like this: Resting is lazy. Taking a break is for the weak. Stay-at-home moms love motherhood, so we don’t need time off. Thanks to this lie, I feel guilty for taking even a moment to pause. Hence, I immediately clear my empty lunch plate instead of lingering over the rest of a magazine article. I quickly set down my phone when the kids come over or start doing sit-ups when my husband walks in on my nap. I snap out of a daydream and instead plan out meals for the week. After all, down time isn’t compatible with my lie. And yet, I know that making time for regular rest is an essential rhythm for a joyful, sustainable life. Therefore, I’ve been experimenting recently with what it could look like to keep a weekly sabbath—a day off from work (including the unpaid kind that defines  life as a mom  of four young kids). I realize full well that parents can’t just take 24 hours off from mom and dad duties. But there is definitely room fo...

I stared at the Instant Pot box collecting dust in my entryway since Black Friday, simultaneously itching to try it out and terrified that my brief glance through the startup guide would lead to a kitchen explosion with four curious kids underfoot. It wasn’t until my kids’ first day back in their NYC school building after two weeks of Thanksgiving remote learning that I had the time and mental capacity to read through the owner’s manual. Our few but precious in-person days are a chance for me to reflect, recharge , and think ahead so I’m not throwing chicken nuggets and frozen waffles into the microwave  every  night. Like a prep period can do wonders for a teacher’s lesson, an uninterrupted hour Monday morning (plus a pep talk with some fellow moms at school pickup) led to an incredible cooking and learning evening with my children that night. When I mustered up the courage to pressure cook dinner in my Instant Pot, I ended up bringing science and math into the kitchen....

Something clicked for my struggling writer this week, and now all she wants to do is make books. “I’ll I want to do is write,” my 6-year-old sighed as she Velcroed her sneakers this morning. “I wish I could staple one more book. I really wish I could get started on the next one.” “Well, hurry up and get ready for school so you can,” I said, amazed that I could suddenly use writing time as a motivator on a busy school morning. You see, up until a few days ago I had a reluctant writer on my hands. She loved to draw and would happily flaunt her knowledge of basic sight words, but when it came time to sit down and sound out words to spell them phonetically, she would freeze. During remote learning last spring, half an hour of me painfully pulling three sentences out of her and onto the page would leave us both grumpy and drained. And when she did have a story idea, she would forget it half-way through writing down the sentence—probably because the act of building the words took so long. ...

We emerged from remote learning this past spring burnt out and ready for a break. A break from sketchy wi-fi. A break from nagging about expectations. A break from debating whether to continue our wildflower exploration or sign back online to hear a teacher’s read-aloud. A break from morning meetings with my four kids to schedule the day. Enter lovely, lazy summer days of unplanned, uninterrupted play. Well, that lasted for about a week. Then, my mind wandered into that downward spiral of worry around the summer slide, only amplified by the inadequate nature of emergency remote learning amidst the COVID-19 pandemic. Since my children missed out on classroom time this spring, even a slight summer slide would leave them super behind where they should be, come September. So, while I knew we all needed a break, I didn’t want us to just rot away all summer long. I figured I’d try to sneak in some academics without the kids realizing my scheme. But even that seemed too labor-intensive for a ...

I have a love-hate relationship with screen time. On the one hand, I depend on it to keep my kids connected to school while we shelter in place. On the other hand, I despise it when it creates grumpy monsters out of my normally pleasant offspring. As much as I bemoan the lifeless stares that result from mindlessly absorbing video after video, today gave me a glimmer of hope for this screen-obsessed generation—stuck inside during the COVID-19 pandemic. For the past week or so, my seven-year-old son has used his afternoon free time after completing remote learning schoolwork to watch  marble races  on YouTube. For a few minutes, I thought it was pretty fascinating and found myself getting drawn into the competition amongst these rolling orbs. But pretty soon I just got dizzy. My son, however, was still entranced hours later. “Are you really still watching this?” I interrupted. “Wouldn’t it be more fun to do something in real life? You know, you do have a marble se...