Dear IF readers,

In doing my research for mother, father, grandparent magazines, I found many moms, a few grandparents and 1 dad magazine. But if I found one hundred, www.fathermag.com would rank high. It is a wonderful magazine. It is online rather than in print so far. There is so much depth and breadth to it. There are stories, poetry, articles, fact finding, resources. You can pretty much find it all.

I found a male voice, a father’s voice on www.fathermag.com. My father never said much, still doesn’t. I married a similiar man. Luckily my husband loves me and he knows I like to chat, so he digs deep every once in awhile, pours out his soul. Cries at heartfelt movies. I am a very lucky woman. I mean that. Some men never talk. I don’t think that is their fault only, they are raised to be strong, not be wordy or chatty, it is a socio-emotional-cultural death of sorts. Luckily my husband was close to his mother, and learned to speak, to feel.

But on www.fathermag.com, fathers talk and talk and talk. Wow, it is great to read and listen to these thoughts. I am thrilled that so many men care deeply about their children, and how they are raised. I am glad to hear that many men are sad if they are separated from their children that they care that deeply. And I stop thinking men don’t care and I feel sad with them. I don’t want their children taken from them in a custody battle just because they are not females, it doesn’t seem fair. Even though I am a Mom, and would want to keep my children if something happened to my marriage, I start to understand clearly that my husband would die in his heart if he couldn’t wake up every morning the hugs and kisses of his boys.

Thank you www.fathermag.com. Thank you thank you. I am a better wife because of you. And a better daughter. Thank you, Cat Wayland, IF mag

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Dear IF readers,

It was a wonderful day here at our home for Father’s Day. But not without its wrinkles and hiccups. The day before Papa was to arrive home from a business trip, we shopped for John. We got him the usual stuff: travel size stuff for his bath kit for trips, games to play with the boys, a book to engage him, etc. But I slipped in a special gift from me, wifey.

I found a teddy bear that read “I love Hilton Head”. As father and husband to our brood, John made a very unselfish decision. After having the children and living in NYC, we both became apprehensive about safety and life quality after 9/11. As a mother, I was tired of the worry and felt it taxing in an already demanding environment such as Manhattan. There was an opportunity to take the children to Hilton Head Island for a primary, winter home and keep NYC for later. So we sublet NYC to a very nice family that were firmly planted in Manhattan and pulled up roots for our journey south. This was no easy thing for my husband John, a native New Yorker from Albany whose career and destiny had pointed to the Big Apple his whole life. But he felt great salve in the fifteen years spent there, the job achievements and the lifetime experience, and balanced that against his wants for his children. I wanted the teddy bear to remind him that the great generosity of his heart to move for the boys and I would always be around the house written on this little bear’s tummy. I will never forget this act of John’s as a father, it was no less than heroic.

The wrinkles and hiccups came in the form of travel delays and thunderstorms. John was attending his niece’s graduation in L.I. on Saturday after a week of work in NYC. The flight in on Sunday to us and his Father’s Day was delayed and John called from the runway. We had scheduled to boat and tube with another family to enjoy the Dads and we promised to circle the boat close to the dock to pick him up on his late arrival.

And then the storm broke out just as Papa arrived. The tube never made it from its secure place and we spend the next hour in a sheltered boat house awaiting the end of the storm. The end never came. We moved the celebration inside where the women chatted, the children played and the men watched golf. Ahhh……well made plans. But we did hug and kiss and tell Papa how wonderful he is many times. And he opened his gifts of deodorant and mouth wash with great joy and humility. Papa John, a gift of a father in this house.

Good reading, Cat Wayland

Dear IF readers,

We are featuring Make it Right this June issue for International Family Magazine. Make It Right was started by Brad Pitt, a global dad and his team down in NOLA helping the 9th Ward rebuild after Hurricane Katrina.

Make It Right is a wonderful effort to make sure that things stay in the public eye till the job gets done. Once the press sensation dies down on a tragedy, things lose focus, slow down.

Make It Right is keeping things in the public eye until people are back in their homes safe and sound. My husband and global dad of Jax and Brody, is all about helping New Orleans. John and my love story had many chapters in NOLA and it breaks our heart to not see the city on its feet yet. We have gone back each year for Jazz Fest and have seen the trailers still lurking outside the houses waiting for funding. It is a shame.

I met a woman on the plane going down to NOLA this past May for Jazz Fest. She told me her husband’s mama isn’t even on a list yet. I told her I would write her mother-in-law’s story so we could get her on a list.

You have to leave your house and neighborhood to know what is going on. I am a big support of families, mothers and dads that go beyond their comfort to help another. Thank you global dad Brad Pitt, and Make It Right. IF mag is looking to help, publicize, donate and do whatever it can to make sure all families are safe under a roof, and on a dry floor.

Good reading, and prayers, and help, Cat Wayland

Dear IF readers,

I am glad that International Family Magazine is a place for mothers to come together from all over the world. I am more happy that International Family Magazine puts mothers and fathers together in the same forum to discuss, share and yes, even argue at times. I believe that as long as things stay civilized, an argument can be more “together” than walking away. There is a movement of divorce that was once more of an exception to the social communities around the world, and now is more the 50% rule.

I find this sad. Yes I feel sad for the women and men in the relationship that is severed. But when there is children involved, it feels like something quite different. Don’t misunderstand, if the marriage is volatile, abusive or unsafe, DIVORCE DIVORCE DIVORCE and get the children to safe and happy pastures. But when nowadays you hear such reasons as “I just fell out of love, he or she stopped fufilling my needs, I am just not happy - that sounds selfish. I am the first to say that parents cannot raise happy children unless they are happy. But there is also great worth in accountability, reliabilty, perserverance, unselfishness, family values over self values, community over ego, etc.

I remember when I started to launch IF magazine, people were afraid my demographic was undefined, it was too large. I still find this funny. I launched a magazine for families around the world. I publish stories from mothers, fathers, children, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, and on and on. But the marketing experts have their point and I will admit this. Now that the world of families are fractured and the grandparents are in nursing homes, people leave their hometowns and extended family, mothers and fathers divorce and the magazines cater to and pit these entites against one another, it makes sense that a marketing consultant would say to me, “Family? I don’t get it, be more specific.”

I am thrilled to be such a rebel in this way. My greatest rebellion being a family magazine. And as a woman I am glad to say that although tempting in the face of so much popularity to polarize the sexes, I support the voices of women, men, mothers and fathers together and all at once. With Ying, so Yang. Maybe we would not divorce as much if we realized that to love one another forever does not mean we have to like each other every day.

To mothers and fathers everywhere and the hope that once again someday, marriage and families will be seen as a great treasure and resource the world over, happy reading Cat Wayland

Dear If readers,

My husband John and sons Jax and Brody were precious to me on Mother’s Day. Now, I have to say, I think my husband has come to realize quite smartly that these “girlie” types of remembrances and rituals score big points with his “bride” and women folk in general. And so, he took the boys shopping as he does now for birthdays and Christmas and they “sneak” off to stores behind my back like great showman that giggle that they are pulling one over on Mommy (who of course knows and goes along).

They woke me up with cards and made me open each one to show their unique messages and personalities. And then came the gift cards and thoughtful gestures. And finally, time off for good behavior. John took the boys to a playground and a movie in which time I napped and took myself to the cinema. The day ended with my return to a tidy house, the boys in pajamas and their teeth brushed and my husband making my favorite salmon and saute’ spinach supper on the grill and stove. Wonderful, wonderful Mother’s Day, 2008.

But can I tell you what really made my mother’s day week? One day in that week, Jax’s friend Sophie who he admits he has a “crush” on had a ballet recital and we attended. I try to teach my boys how to treat someone they like with sweetness so we stopped at the grocer to buy pink carnations to bring to give her. We arrived and went into the auditorium.

I of course had us sit in the back row thinking, “Well, this will last 10 minutes tops, and then one of them probably my three year old will begin to play cowboys and indians in the aisles and we will have to leave.” Well, no. My boys sat mesmerized at the 40 minutes of Peter Rabbit played out on the stage with only a whispering as Sophie came on stage as a mouse and Jax said to Brody, “she looks beautiful doesn’t she?” To which Brody, said, “Yes, beautiful, beautiful.”

And that dear friends, watching my little boys act like young men, civilized and appreciative of someone’s magic, with flowers in their hands as gifts of love, was my greatest mother’s day gift of all. Love, Cat Wayland

Dear IF readers,

Mother’s Day was last Sunday. And on the Friday before Mother’s Day, I was invited to Jax school to celebrate. I was teaching at the middle school that day so I asked Jax teacher if I could come early and leave early. This idea made Jax sad, so I asked John if he could come and cover the last 30 minutes after I left. Everyone was happy.

I went into Jax classroom to find that he had made presents and told the class stories about his mom. He said that I helped him with his homework, and I let him stay up late, and that he loved me very much. Jax made me a flower bonnet and a flower for me to hold all of colorful tissue paper. Those moments took all the tired away. And I watched this young boy showing me his gifts and smiling at me like I was the greatest person other than Batman or Spiderman.

I save everything my children make it is an incurable affliction. And so when I got back home the flower and hat stayed out for days and then went into the keepsake box. Maybe someday Jax will get a laugh out of all the things his mama saved about him. And someday when he is off in his life and I am a once a week phone call or visit, I will have my flower and my hat, and that day in Jax class room.

I am so glad that I was lucky and blessed enough to become a mother. There is so much pride in this work. I imagine these two young men in the world someday, and even now, I see them objectively when they are steps from me with their friends or another adult and I think, “hey that boy is so cool and sweet, i would like to know him even if he was not my son,” and that is the greatest feeling in the world.

Great reading, Cat Wayland

Dear IF readers,

I have found great solace, and comfort and energy from other mothers as I trudge this journey of parenting all the way up the mountain to victory. And the prize? Happy, healthy, compassionate, socially adjusted, generous-hearted children that have mastered their own magical skills ready to contribute to the universe and live fulfilled lives. Yes, hopefully something like that.

I really do not want to sound terribly dramatic, but it would please me some day if Moms had a parade similar to the ones we give soldiers of war. There is a war fought everyday on the homefronts - physical and mental illness, poverty, violence and I believe we women do a great deal to keep the home fires burning steady for everyone. We bandage the injured, give hope to the sick and suffering, put up the Christmas tree even if its 2 feet tall and we can’t afford presents that year, we get up many days over and over and over again, to get the family up and going and make sure that everyone comes home at night safe and accounted for. We are the soldiers and the peacemakers that keep the lights on, the beds dry and the food warm.

Until the day of the parade, I walk with each of my fellow veterans of this homefront crusade very proud to stand in your great ranks. There are many days where I have pulled a 24/7 times 6 years and I think “when is this tour of duty over, when can I rest?” and I see another of my dear comrades walking towards me in the grocery aisle, her basket filled with even more screaming children than mine, someone in her cart is throwing a fit and saying “I don’t like you Mommy, you won’t buy me candy”, and we smile at one another. That smile lasts me the rest of the night. Because I know if she can take it, so can I. I will stand on the wall again another night. Because I know she is standing on hers.

Thank you dear mamas for the strength and courage you share with me, Cat Wayland

Dear IF readers,

We are in New Orleans for Jazz Fest.  John and I have come every year since we began dating 15 years ago.  Now we bring Brody and Jax, it recharges us as a family.  We dance together for days, laugh and eat food that is rich and decadent.  We throw caution to the wind.  It heals all of us from our routine and our “to dos” - must pay bills, must sit correctly at dinner table, must eat protein before sugar, must work to pay bills, must, must, shouldn’t, can’t.  Those words are not so plenty here.  Ahhhh….

New Orleans has always given to my soul.  I ponder this now as I write about mothers and mothering for the month of May.   I was on my own in the world at the age of twelve and I missed some critical years of mothering.  It took me years to find that in myself rather than in something outside of me, another person, a food, a drink, a shopping spree, etc.  But I did finally.  I found a voice in me that says, “go home, and get some rest.”  My inner mother voice now says, “don’t say yes right away, don’t argue right away, don’t run away.”  For me to be right or better than very wrong for my boys, I had to learn to mother me first.  And even now with my boys.  I am no good to them if I am starving, drained, exhausted, etc. 

Easier said than done right?  We mothers always come last.  Yes, I agree and no, I disagree.  It depends on how “I” and the operative word is “I” take care of me.  If I am working and have the kids the next day, I open my mouth and ask John to help me make the bag lunches the next day.  I know I am better after a morning walk so I set my alarm and get up with my flashlight and power walk before John and the boys wake at usually 6:45 or 7:00 a.m.   If it has been a long day, a frozen dinner or a pick up pizza on the way home will do just fine.  

I check in with myself alot - “What can I handle?”  And then I put that into the equation of what is on the schedule for the family.  My husband spends the week working in a chair on the phone in front of the computer and loves to take the boys on big adventures over the weekends, because he is restless and has missed the boys.  Sometimes I am too pooped for big adventures because my Mon-Fri rocks with activities.  So, sometimes we seperate the boys and he spends some one on one with our older son who can handle the big fun and the three year old and I putz around doing housework together and taking a nap.  The we hire a sitter for a Saturday date night and have a nice dinner together which I love.

I don’t think there is ever a science to the mother thing but I do try to be a happy mom.  And in order to be a happy mom, I need to be happy.  So, I skip things that don’t seem so important and I try to fight the big battles not every one that might drain me.  I take shortcuts on cooking every meal but try to give my family a balanced, nutritious menu.  I try to find exciting things for my children and I to do together that are easier on me, ie a community interactive museum rather than volunteering as class parent.  Believe me I contribute and volunteer but not when I know I am overwhelmed already.  I pace myself, “yes I can volunteer Saturday 12-3 p.m, sorry no I can’t give an unlimited amount of time to that vague, undersupported and unfocused project.”

It is such a hard thing to wake up one day with a baby cradled in your arms that is screaming for love and realize that you were a little more empty on the love thing yourself.  Yikes!  And even if you started the mother thing in a good path, alot of negative feedback from your kids, “I want, I need, this is awful, I hate this socks, nobdy likes me, wha wha wha”, could have sent Ghandi packing his bags and jumping in the jeep with Hunter Thompson looking for the Wild Ride.  Knit yourself a sweater, take a bubble bath, buy a great book for when the kids are napping. Love love love you.  Then you can give love. We cannot give what we do not have.   Love to all you mamas, Cat Wayland

Dear IF readers,

This month of May is International Family Magazine’s celebration of “Mothers, Grandmothers, and Daughters.” I have had more than one mother. I have had many mothers. There was my biological mother that I knew for nine months in uterus, and a lifetime of DNA. I understand now that I have had biological children how incredibly powerful nature is. In the nature versus nurture argument I watched my two sons come out of my body already imprinted with a personality and temperment that is uniquely and specificly theirs from the first day on this Earth. Jax was and is always in his five years social, drawn to chaos, moves in the grays, charming, theatrical, emotional, empathetic, intuitive, sensitive, smart, tactile, high energy. Brody was and is always in his three years private, intimate, logical, observing, detailed oriented, low energy, loyal, loving, and peaceful or ferocious, black or white. All that I will ever know of my biological mother, grandmother and blood ancestry is in the natural instincts I hear in my veins each day.

My mother who is non-biological raised me until I was twelve at which time I went to boarding schools and camps till college. I remember hearing her heart break the first time when her mother died when I was five years old. Then later when my father left her. I remember her fragile and broken and in need of extra care and love. My mother had been a nurse so the house was clean, we were clean, and the furniture in order. If anything fell out of order or became messy, my mother’s smallness and insecurity became large and frightening. I moved between fear and pity of my mother my whole life, and I always and will always love her very very much. I was a stranger’s orphan baby and she took me in and stood on the wall watching over me as long as she could. She gave me many wonderful things. She was creative, brilliant and poetic. I have taken in so much of the information of good in her in my life.

When I went out into the world at age twelve, I knew I needed female role models so that I would learn how to live in the real world, have a job while keeping a family going, be strong and not break. The world gave me so many examples of bravery, entrepreneurship, and maternal love. There are so many women walking this Earth that take care of stangers and become guardian angels of sorts. I met and was blessed to know so many. There was my elementary friend’s mom, my first boyfriend’s mom, my boss, my older friends, and on and on. They showed me a map that became my makeshift one till I could draw my own. They were my adoptive mothers, I adopted them all.

I hope if I do anything right as a mother to my sons, Jackson and Brody, I give them all the good I can, and then allow them and others to fill in the gaps. I like very much the words of Kahil Gibran who says in so many words, that “our children are not ours, they are gifts from God that are lent to us….”. Everyday that I am a mother to Jackson and Brody is my gift in their journey of becoming. There are days when I cannot admit much beyond the DNA that ties us together, other days I am the great teacher, nurturer and finally, I am the nest that they began to fly from the day they were born……

My journey as a daughter was strange and beautiful. I hope I give my sons much beauty but I am sure some days they will find me strange. Here is to balance dear mothers, grandmothers and daughters, Cat Wayland

Dear IF readers,

Sorry to be out of touch for a little while. It really takes me awhile to get my legs after a trip. I go away from my children and go into another gear entirely. I am 41 years old and not around my children, I act much slower and spacey. Around my 3 and 5 year old climbing the walls, jumping out of a car window, running through parking lots, throwing balls at glass window- boys boys boys - I am like a patrol officer in the midst of a high speed chase, the adrenaline is pumping. I shift back up to meet the boys level and I am in bed for a week by 8 p.m. That is usually when I write this blog, after I tuck the boys in. Sorry again.

April is Autism Awareness month and there are so many books, articles, fundraising and awareness activities this month. I think what I respond to mostly is the range affecting any child or adult. It is broad, very broad. I know that when my boys are going through something in even what is considered a normative range, I am confounded until I can understand and focus in on the solution. I am sure that all parents working with an autistic child wants solutions and a focus to the range of workable possibilities. And love and support from others to recharge.

I think what is also difficult is the beginning, early childhood diagnosis. So often a parent, an educator, a physician wants a child appropriately developed to make a fair assessment and even order tests. I have heard parents speaking of the early years before a diagnosis as the hardest. These are the years of second guessing, confusion, helplessness that cause such stress to the already stressful job of raising and nurturing a child 24/7.

Please go read the ASA site at http://www.autism-society.org. And please give any parent your know with a child with special needs the love and support to recharge and keep on keeping on. My love and support, Cat Wayland