My Journey to The Mom's Code; Part Four (of Five) Ripper the Tiger

Written by:
Eileen Wacker

I went to NYC to run a booth in a book fair. I met an old friend, Louisa, for dinner at a funky midtown restaurant after a grueling day of hosting the booth events and having an author reading. I sat at the table, early as always, waiting, wondering if a warm bath and room service in the hotel might have been a better choice. I can’t remember the last time I had a bubble bath without someone knocking at the door, or, climbing in. And for far too long, I did not order food for myself; I usually ate the leftover food off of my kids’ plates. But when I saw Louisa, I jumped up from my seat and we hugged each other tight.

Tenet 7: Nourish your soul with Girls' Night Outs

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It was a sacrifice for both of us to take a night away, but the time melted away with that one embrace. I said, “It’s been too long.” She agreed and said, “But look at me now. I’m chubby, a mess and late.” She had changed from the precise, timely, sensibly dressed, ambitious MBA I knew, but she was attractive, with a self-deprecating, stunning smile. I wasn’t surprised at how good she looked.  

I said, “You’re so pretty. It’s just softer and whimsical now. You always look so happy on Facebook! Beautiful family. Busy, gorgeous kids.” The waiter, Benjamin was getting suspicious we would talk all night and never turn this table. But that all became white noise around us as we caught up. We ordered food and multiple rounds of wine and margaritas, making Benjamin feel like we weren’t so bad. We talked about the good old days, laughing at ourselves and savoring the great memories of our early twenties.

We talked about our careers and the inevitable U-turns after kids. We talked about husbands, children, challenges, and happiest moments. She told me a few stories about horrifying behaviors by moms in her daughter’s dance academy. Then after three glasses of wine, with a margarita in hand, at exactly 9:38, she leaned over, “I’m going to tell you my deepest, darkest, most shameful secret. It’s so horrible I don’t know if I can say the words out loud. If I do, they become true and I can never take them back.”

I said, “You don’t have to share any secret. Everyone has a right to their secrets.” She said, “I don’t know why but I want to tell you. I need to tell someone and you’re the right person.” She took a deep breath and a big gulp of her drink.

Tenet 3: Save her when she's drowning

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“So here it goes. After I had my two kids, I just couldn’t lose the weight easily. I could grab a handful of stomach flab. I was mortified. There it was day after day, a handful of chubbiness. I couldn’t stand it. I started to throw up my food. I think I got hooked because it was a lever I had control over and I had control over almost nothing with two little kids and a husband who just kept going with his usual routine. Nothing material was changing for him. He was still having nights out with the boys and work dinners while everything in my world was turned on its head.

I researched and tried to find the healthiest way to puke. I have it down to a science. I drink a big glass of liquid to ease the food. I usually drink milk as it coats the stomach. I lock the bathroom door and strip off my clothes in one second flat. I don’t want any splatters or smell on my clothes. I put a paper towel on the floor because sometimes pee runs down my leg when I force myself to throw up. Then I come out, redress and brush my teeth. Sometimes I quickly rinse my body in the shower if no one is waiting. I have it down to about ninety seconds.”

I grabbed her hand, “Doesn’t Jack notice? You guys seem tight.” She squeezed my hand. “No, Jack has absolutely no clue. He would freak. He might even ask his friends or his mom for advice. No thanks. I want to finish so you’ll know how pathetic I really am. One day, two years ago, my son, who was six at the time, walked in on me. I guess I didn’t catch the lock. I was standing naked, crouched over the toilet, with my two fingers poised to go in my mouth.

“He looked at me and said, ‘Mommy, are you okay? What are you doing?’ The look on his face was so innocent, so concerned.” She was crying now. “I told him I had cramps and I was just about to grab a quick shower. He accepted this without hesitation. Why would he even consider his mommy was a crazy, puking liar? Anyway, I dressed in a hurry and went out. I was disgusted with myself, beyond ashamed. I vowed to quit and I have for the most part. The only time I throw up is during the holidays. I want to fit in my clothes. So, I justify four or five times a year, for ninety seconds I am a pathetic individual because the tradeoff is worth it to me. People don’t really understand the sacrifice we make, physically having kids and then managing the incredible challenge of raising them.”

She was sobbing as she finished her story. I was crying too. Benjamin, our waiter came over concerned until we assured him we were okay. She said, “The reason I told you my story is that when I have days like this and I’m struggling to be a decent mom and then some dance mom is trying to run me out of the program because I don’t volunteer enough or want to spend an extra five hundred dollars on costumes, I wonder what it’s going to take for us to find our moral compass as moms, in the way we treat each other.”

Tenet 1: Stop the Mama Drama

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When I went back to my hotel room, I couldn’t sleep. I stayed up all night. I was wrestling with these stories, these realities– mine, Nikki’s and Louisa’s—the loss of career dreams, the embracing of a new life as a mom, making new important mom friends and evolving with old friends who became moms like me. How we are the same and how we’ve changed. How, when the curtain is pulled back, there are messes everywhere. How sometimes other moms pull us down. So we soldier on.

I wrote— a Mom’s Code!  

The code incorporates the importance of laying it bare. Because we need to. It’s cleansing and a relief.

It incorporates the notion that the end doesn’t justify the means when raising children. Because all the ‘means’ added together make up the fabric of my children’s character at the end of the childhood journey.

When moms undermine other moms, it makes the load heavier. We have too much in common to tear each other apart.

My children didn’t come with warning labels. Open heart surgery, a different learner, one who keeps breaking bones, a non-sleeper, an irascible arguer. My children, as imperfect as they are, have stretched my heart and increased my ability to love and embrace life. I have become more honest about the fact that when you pull back the curtains at my house, there is usually a mess. And although I’ve searched under beds and behind couches, I can never seem to find time. I’m always running but still behind.

One night, I was lying in my son’s bed trying to get him to go to sleep. He grabbed my face with his hands so I was looking at him, “Mommy I need a tiger!”

When I asked him what (in the world) would we do with a tiger, he said, “Name him Ripper and feed him bullies!” From the top bunk, his older brother said through closed eyes, “Unicorns and pink fairies have to go too.” I had been asked about 327 questions that day, fended off wars over a one-armed doll, warded off a hunger strike because I served broccoli, and collected all the electronics they wanted to sneak into their beds.

My daughter entered the doorway and asked, “Does Winnie the Pooh even know how to read? Does he have to do a reading journal? It’s not fair.” She stomped out. I guess it was a rhetorical question. I smiled, thinking there is no place I’d rather be right now.

Sometimes my children say hilarious things, accomplish something remarkable, hug a sibling spontaneously or, believing no one is watching, run with beautiful abandon.

So, it’s worth some introspection, for all of us and for them, the ankle biters. It’s worth telling the truth. It’s worth considering a Mom’s Code. Or else, we’re going to have to get a tiger named Ripper to eat the mom bullies or teach Winnie the Pooh to keep a journal.

My Journey to The Mom’s Code: Part Two (of Five) – “I’m free…free falling”

Written by Eileen Wacker

This is Part 2 (of 5)

CLICK HERE FOR PART 1

The day of my daughter’s surgery was the worst day of my life. We drove in silence, a silence so loud I could hear it. I was unable to make a single cheery remark. My cheerleader self was shaken to the core and I swiped the tears away before my little girl noticed. I watched her in the mirror as she stared off into space, out the window, clutching her little doll Sara, her favorite despite having painted-on hair.

When they came to take her for the surgery, I was overcome by fear that she would never come back out. She was so tiny as she lay on the movable bed. She was hungry. She was afraid. As the anesthesiologist went to place the mask over her mouth, she looked over at me with her liquid brown eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks. She waved and said softly, “Okay bye Mommy. Take care of Sara. Bye Daddy.” I was breathing underwater. All I could think was, “please let her make it. I will die if she dies. I would die for her right now. I would without hesitation give my life so she could live hers.”

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My husband led me by my elbow to the waiting room where I sat and completed a five hundred-piece puzzle on the waiting room floor to avoid looking at the clock or any person. We had about four hours to wait before we would hear anything. The time crept by so slowly. My personal agony never subsided, only got stronger, as my thoughts ran down random worry alleyways. My husband stared at the wall stoically, and every hour on the hour, said, “this is good. It’s almost done. We’ll have good news at any minute.”

When the surgeon came out and told us the procedure was a success, I jumped into his arms and wept. He must see that a lot because he didn’t even flinch. When my little girl recovered enough to come home, I was terrified that she would break. It’s hard to keep an active child quiet and we had a two and a half year old son at home who wanted to play with her. But somehow the skies cleared and her bandages were removed; I consciously made myself let her the climb the ladder to the slide or pump her own tiny legs on the swings, even as I held my breath.

A month later, I had lunch with my boss to discuss my return. He was selling me hard to come back. I felt immensely flattered and wanted. His big plans were indeed big, including a business development role with lots of international travel. He said, “You are one step away from being an HR leader for one of our smaller businesses. You are one of our highest potential females. How long have you been back in the U.S.? We need to put that global brain of yours back to work.” My boss assumed I would work out the balance issues with my husband. That I would put my work wings back on and show up, ready to fly. I thanked him for his support and said, “’ll come back after the holidays. I’m so excited.” I meant it at the time. I even shook on it. I danced to my car with the song, “I’m free, free falling” echoing in my head.

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It didn't work out that way. I was nauseous and my lower back was aching so I stopped at the pharmacy and got a home pregnancy kit. The decision that being a stay-at-home mom was best for our family was made the moment I peed on the stick. As much as I was thrilled when I saw the double line, I saw the career me flying away into the clouds. I pictured my boss saying, “I had big plans for her. She had promise. Too bad we lost her.”

I switched from a hard pounding working mom, clinging to career hopes, into a full time stay-at-home mom, buried under the insatiable needs of two, three, then four tiny people. And their needs were immense. Of course my husband didn’t want to be left out so he lumped his needs in as well and then got us a puppy. I was lured in by their little, teeny-sized clothes (babies’, not husband’s or puppy’s) and then held captive by their innocent faces as they slept. I never sat for a second and I’m not even sure I exhaled often.

I experienced so many moments of profound love and joy, but sometimes, when I wasn’t paying attention, a profound tidal wave of loss would set in as I missed the work me. And somehow, I started to transfer all my hopes and dreams onto the ankle biters.

CLICK HERE FOR PART 3: Mom want to be FACEBOOK FABULOUS 

Importance of Reading for our Children

Written by Eileen Wacker ©

I often think about the importance of reading for children. I believe to my core that education and exposure to different things make a difference in our world. What kids read influences their view of the world and their place in it. Books have an impact on the person they ultimately become. An education is the greatest gift we give to our children and reading is critical to almost every facet of learning. But the whole ‘learning to read’ and ‘loving to read’ journey is inconvenient at best.

Reading causes a lot of friction between moms. At a recent back to school night, all the moms’ eyes are drawn to the reading stars chart. Whatever the teacher is saying is white noise. And I always notice where my child is first, but then like a computer, I calculate where all the other small humans fall in. It’s not all my fault. We have been told that all kids learn to read at their own pace and we should not worry. But then there are ladders and star charts and other indicators of a child’s success. This keeps moms up at night.

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At a Girls Night Out, one of my friends was going on and on about how much her child loves to read. She’s at a point where her son is hiding all his reading. It’s like a reading marathon every night at their house. I looked around at all the other moms’ faces. I wondered if I should tell her, “You’re are most definitely a buzz kill. Enough with the voracious reading chronicles! We don’t come to these dinners to feel like we are not doing enough and need to get home to find a tutor. We come to feel normal and have authentic conversations about our challenges and small successes. Save your Facebook fabulous for your thousand social media friends. ”

Then there is the friction at home. My four kids are decent readers now but it’s a huge battle. The reading journals were tough. My son said, “Reading is stressful when you’re not the reader type.” Yet he has an insatiable appetite for non-fiction books about athletes.  I had to learn to back off and let him pick his books, not push the suggested reading list every summer.

For me one of the most critical things we can do as parents is leave pleasure reading as free form. Our kids are overscheduled and march through their routines like little robots. We have to take reading back to the enjoyable adventure it is meant to be and not have some structured matrix of how to have assured reading success. If we do this then the reading nook becomes the place where fun goes to die. Kids love to be the heroes in their own stories and read about reluctant or non-traditional heroes in other stories.

I also love the messages of children’s and YA books. Most children’s and YA books have children/tweens/teens facing a challenge and then overcoming that obstacle. We need more of that spirit in our children. Trying things that have no guaranteed outcome. And, if there is a hovering adult in the story, he/she is usually the bad guy. The children/tweens/teens solve their own problems, not the helicopter parent.

ONCEKids Publishing is run by literacy advocate and Mompreneur Eileen Wacker.  Click here to find her acclaimed books

Sometimes I’m surprised and rewarded as I’m driving. Between my four kids activities and social commitments, I’m in the car about five hours on Saturdays. Today my 12 year-old daughter and her friend had a party at the beach. I’m fine to be invisible as this is when I get to hear them talk about stuff they care about. Her friend said, “My favorite thing is to know the back story. Like, I want to know why the missing foot is important to the story.”

These moments remind me that my goal is to fret less about reading standards, charts and measures. And my challenge is to come up with ways to enable my children to read all the books that they want, and continue to be the heroes in their own adventures.

Reading is a Gift

Written by Kenna McHugh

Guest Blogger

“I will defend the importance of bedtime stories to my last gasp.” —JK Rowling

Reading is a Gift

My mother, a single parent of three children, never had time to read to us, although she viewed reading as important. So I was never a reader, but rather a TV watcher and moviegoer. This limited my knowledge about history, cultures, and life. I never knew what I was missing until I started reading to my daughter, and I discovered the benefits of not only reading to her, but also of being a reader myself. 

Shortly after her birth, my mother, now retired, stressed the importance of reading to my daughter, her precious granddaughter. She felt guilty for not reading to me. It worked and every night I read to my daughter until she read out loud and eventually on her own. 

ONCEKids Publishing is run by literacy advocate and Mompreneur Eileen Wacker.  Click here to find her acclaimed books

Now, my daughter is 15 years old and never without a book. She devours books. She knows more about the world, mythology, and history than her friends and classmates. As a result, she has a high grade point average, is well-behaved, very literate and writes wonderful and meaningful prose. 

When she was an infant, we used to curl up in bed, and I would read board books to her like “Goodnight Moon,” “Run Away Bunny” and other titles. When the first Harry Potter movie was released, I didn't see it because my daughter was just a baby. But, when the second movie was released, my daughter was two and told me she wanted to see it because she had seen the first movie with her babysitter on a VHS. 

We saw the movie with a friend of mine and her ten years-old daughter. My daughter sat in the dark movie theater, riveted to the movie screen for over two hours. Only the spiders were scary to her.

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For several days after, my daughter talked endlessly about Harry Potter. So, my husband bought the first book and started reading it to her every night. The first time he read to her, she looked up at him with her big eyes and said, “There is more in the book than the movie.” 

Clearly, she understood the magic of reading a book. I was hooked too. I told my husband, “I want to read Harry Potter to her every night.” 

I read every Harry Potter book out loud to my daughter. To this day, I share this love of reading with my daughter. We are closer and connected.

So, I tell my friends and family when they hear of a good book or bestseller, pick it up and read it for pleasure. See if their world doesn't change or they don't notice the benefits of being a reader. And, always read to their little ones until they can read on their own. It is truly a gift.

Oh, the Places They can Go

Tina O'Reilly
Guest Blogger

Oh the Places They Can Go!

Children need to develop the ability to read for survival in school and adult life. Children need to learn about new subjects and read helpful information, including academic research, consumer products, and medical information. If a child doesn’t learn to read, he/she won’t be able to absorb written information easily.

With the birth of the internet, came endless opportunities for reading. At one-time there was a perception the internet would be the death of books. Thankfully that prediction proved wrong. The internet is an enormous source of information and data, but hasn’t replaced the connection a child has while reading a physical book.

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Children reading can be an exciting activity. Children experience joy when they delve into a new world. Pick out books on subjects they enjoy so they’ll stick around and stay engaged. They should perceive reading as a pleasurable activity rather then a chore. Books are a source of fascinating tales and useful information for the right reader. 

n essence, books help your child with the development of their language skills. Hearing you speak the words and phrasing aids in their development of the spoken language and soon they’ll be able to express themselves verbally.

Reading out loud to your child teaches them proper grammar. I
A book, the school library and the web opens doors to so many places. Your child can learn about the earth, space, the stars, or dinosaurs. They can read about magical places with dragons and witches. Just think about the places their minds will go.

Books teach your child about places and people all over the world. They can learn about history and their heritage. Reading doesn’t need to be a solitary activity. Family members can join in the fun reading to your child and, in turn, get to share precious moments with your child. Do you have older children? Encourage them to read to your younger ones to strengthen their bonds.

ONCEKids Publishing is run by literacy advocate and Mompreneur Eileen Wacker.  Click here to find her acclaimed books

Storytime at the library is a great time for your child to learn socializing skills. They can talk to other children about the story being read to them. Focus on the fun. Grab a special treat afterwards.
Reading ebooks can improve your child's hand-eye coordination as they click through the pages. They click forward and backward, not only learning motor skills but gaining valuable computer skills. Just be careful they can only reach child-friendly sites. 

Watch in amazement while your child experiences the love of reading. Books will nurture your children, and provide endless enjoyment for you too. Make the most of all the books and resources available to you and your child. Their little minds absorb information! Encourage them to reflect upon the stories as they read. Before long they’ll develop a creativity all their own.


Reading is critical for all aspects of your child’s learning. Grab a book and experience a lifetime of enjoyment.