Cover Stories

By Jane Fried Sheinfeld

Sometimes I think my life is a lot like an episode of South Park.  It isn’t the unrelenting and often irreverent social commentary–putting my opinions out there is not really my thing –but more in the way South Park tells a story to make a point. In each episode, the characters try to make sense of the world around them, and as they explore the topic at hand, events build upon themselves, reaching a crescendo in outrageously unpredictable ways, until the story ends someplace you never imagined possible and miles from where it started. When you watch it from the beginning, the progression makes total sense. Join in at the end, and well, you’re just left scratching your head and thinking it is pretty ridiculous.

I am not saying my life is ridiculous, although since I had four sons graduate Greeley in five years, I have had my share of ridiculous moments. I have found that my life has moved along in a way that, to a recent acquaintance, or someone who hasn’t been along with me for the ride, just doesn’t make sense.

As a newly minted empty nester, 
I split my professional life between a few different businesses.  At compUtomation, I teach people how to use their computers. I also love to tutor students in math. These two professions make sense, as I was a banker and have graduate degrees in business and computer science. It’s my third profession that surprises most people. I am sole proprietor of The Pieced Palette, for which I design and sew fabric keepsakes, mostly pillows, as gifts to celebrate births, bar/bat mitzvahs, communions, sweet 16s, weddings and other events. If you read my resume, or worked with me when I volunteered for seemingly every possible job when my children were young, my fifth baby, The Pieced Palette, just doesn’t seem 
to fit.

But each of these endeavors provides me opportunities for fulfillment. I can make people happy and gain tremendous satisfaction when my creativity allows me to figure out the ideal solution. Teaching someone a skill that they either never thought they could master, or were struggling to, is incredibly rewarding. Similarly, through The Pieced Palette, each keepsake I craft is unique and my latest project is always my favorite. It truly makes me happy to create something so personal to mark a milestone in someone’s life.

I once received a thank you note from a client who described the reaction from the gift recipient right before her bat mitzvah ceremony. This young woman started screaming and ran to show it to her mother because she loved it so much. That my little sewing machine can provide someone with that much happiness never ceases to amaze me.

I’m now referred to as “The Pillow Lady.” I never thought that my prior incarnations as student, banker, mother, and volunteer would lead me to this place when my kids were grown and gone. But I see now that my latest act is really a logical extension of my life experience to date. Through compUtomation, I solve other people’s business problems. Through The Pieced Palette, I solve my own. I am constantly educating myself, as I educate others.

The Pieced Palette is four years old now, and I am every bit as excited and passionate about it as I was when I started. Where I am now is not at all where I thought I would be, but it kind of makes sense when you put the pieces together! And like an episode of South Park, if you were in on the story from the beginning, it all makes perfect sense.

Jane Fried Sheinfeld and her husband are newly minted empty nesters. You can usually find her either behind her sewing machine, or walking her dogs (Chester and Dublin) at Gedney Park. You can see her pillows at thepiecedpalette.com.

Confessions of a mom with a kid in each school.

By Gabrielle Zilkha

Any given morning can be mayhem or the opposite in my house; I never know what I am going to get when I climb out of bed! I would like to believe that our morning routine, with three kids, each heading to a different school with a different start time, runs like a well oiled machine 85% of the time. The other 15% of mornings makes for some interesting conversation!

My alarm goes off at 6:30 a.m. My two girls are already awake, primping and preparing for the day ahead. The dogs are antsy to get out, and I am trying my hardest to keep the noise level low so my 4th grader does not wake up. Omelets are made, and sandwiches are thrown together for lunch. The dogs are fed and let out, let back in again, let out and let back in once again, all of which has to be before I corral the girls into the car no later than 7:07 a.m. If the dogs are left out, they chase my car down the driveway–another potential wrench to be thrown in the morning routine. Some days, a book or a piece of ski equipment for an afternoon race is forgotten, which means a midday trip to one school or another for an emergency delivery.

We meet our wonderful neighbor at her house at 7:10 a.m., so I can drop off my middle-schooler with her two kids to wait for their bus, which arrives at 7:17 a.m. In the meantime, I take her HG student with mine, and we make our way to Greeley, amazed at how polite and respectful most of the morning drivers are. Every now and then someone not acquainted with the rules of the road wreaks havoc for everyone, like the inadequately caffeinated soul who decides to make a left turn without moving into the intersection first, causing a 10-minute delay in crossing the parkway.

Once the girls have been disgorged at their respective schools, I make the trek home, through the knot of traffic, hopefully in time to get my youngest dressed, tear him away from the computer, pour his cereal and toss him a Gogurt stick. Day 3 means it’s Trombone Day, so occasionally there is a last minute frantic search for said brass. My husband is getting ready to head into work around this time, but fortunately he requires no assistance in getting dressed or finding his ski helmet or band instrument! Dogs want to go out again as I eye the clock, aiming to reach the bus stop by 8:28. Throw in the fact that I live on what may be the most pothole-ridden road in the district, which means the bus may be slightly delayed as our fabulous bus driver tries to keep the axles intact, and you have what I like to call a variable pickup time!

Lest you think I retire to eat bonbons until dismissal, once this fire drill is done, my day is far from over. Predictably, a text from my middle school student will arrive midday asking me who is picking her up, and when, or asking me to deliver wrapping paper and candy to decorate a friend’s locker for a birthday.

Meanwhile, my HG student will inevitably text me to let me know that she will be getting out of school or finishing up practice at some odd time, and that I should be prepared to pick her up. My little guy has no phone, so once he is on the bus, it’s radio silence until the bus returns him safely home. I am enjoying that while I can. Occasional calls are fielded from the nurse yielding a detailed description of a tummy ache or cold, but luckily those are rare. Fortunately, there have not yet been any nurse call hat-tricks from all three schools on the same day, but the year isn’t over yet!

At some point in the early afternoon, I gear up for the entire process in reverse. While some might find this process exhausting, I would not trade my days of mayhem for anything. The constant motion is, for me, part of what having children is all about. It’s never dull, and while my kids still want to include me in their daily chatter, 
I relish each moment.

Sometimes, I just drive and listen, enjoying the crazy decibel level, and knowing that one day, much sooner than I think, it will be very quiet in my car and I will not like the silence at all.

Gabrielle Zilkha lives in Chappaqua with her husband, three children–ages 15, 13, 9–and two dogs.

By Barbara Bernstein, PhD, MPH, The Mental Health Association of Westchester

Some time ago, with my children grown and gone, I finally made time to pursue the photography course long on my “to-do for me” list. The assignment, to shoot a self-portrait, almost threw me into a tailspin. I am admittedly photo-averse, but more to the point, this assignment raised a fundamental question–which face do I show the world?

We all play multiple roles and emphasize and de-emphasize a particular face as we go through our day. Women seem to experience the stresses of multiple roles more acutely than men do, or seem more willing to talk about the conflicts that this engenders for us. Responsibilities of a home, work, our roles as wife, partner, parent, and care-taker of aging parents and family–the list is a long one.

Each of these responsibilities enriches our lives but also make demands on us. We are stressed by the factors competing for our time, attention, and emotional reserves. Stress comes from situations beyond our control–illness, death of a loved one, loss of relationships including divorce, financial insecurity and difficult job situations. Stress also arises from the positive life changes that we look forward to, like marriage, the birth of a child and a sought-after change of jobs. Manageable stress motivates us, focuses our attention, and directs us to get things done but it can also be toxic.

Stress disorganizes us, and if chronic, wreaks havoc with our emotional and physical health. Everyone responds to stress differently, but for many of us, the immediate effects are felt through somatic concerns such as headaches, stomach aches, interrupted sleep, or fatigue. Many of us become uncharacteristically distracted, forgetful, and unproductive. We may become irritable and short-tempered with others, and increasingly down on ourselves.

The point is not to avoid stress, as we couldn’t if we tried. Many of us have developed strategies for managing climbing levels of stress. It is important to explicitly think about these strategies, even writing them down to refer to when we need them. A useful way to think about those strategies is to identify our internal resources as well as our external resources, which include “informal” supports such as friends, and more “formal” resources which are usually professional.

What can we do for ourselves? Take a time-out, get outdoors, go for a walk, listen to music, lose ourselves in a book, talk with friends, relax, breath, do yoga, exercise, learn a new skill, keep a journal or enjoy some pampering activity.

How can we maintain our ability to manage stress?Maintaining good nutrition, regular exercise and sleep, spending time in meaningful activities, giving back to others, and taking time for ourselves are good ways to manage stress. Good nutrition can directly affect mood, our energy level and physical health. Exercise similarly contributes to our positive mood and helps reduce feelings of depression or anxiety. Increasingly, we are hearing about the critical importance of a good night’s sleep for overall health and well-being. Doing for others and focusing on things beyond our own needs improves our overall feelings of well-being and sense of self.

Make the time.Figuring out how to do it all is already a source of stress so how do we fit in stress-management activities? I don’t have a magic answer; note that it was only after my children were grown that I enrolled in my photography course. But I do know that many of the actions that improve our ability to manage stress can be built into our days. Web sites offer five-minute yoga-breaks and relaxation exercises that can be done at our desks. Explore Kripalu’s Yoga Breaks at http://kripalu.org/article/649/. We can weave community service into family time.

Sometimes, the things we do for ourselves are not sufficient and we need to call on others to help us through a tough time. Our first call may be to friends or family members who are reliably available and supportive. In fact, women tend to manage stress through relationships. Maybe what helps you most is to have someone just listen. Maybe you prefer that a friend offer feedback and problem-solving suggestions. The important thing is to recognize what helps you and to communicate clearly how your friend(s) can be most helpful to you.

How do we know when to seek professional support? If you feel like you cannot cope, if you are having physical symptoms, and/or if your own self-help strategies are not working, it may be time to seek professional support. If you are relying on strategies that may provide short-term relief but in the long run are harmful, like increased use of alcohol, non-therapeutic drug use, or changes in your eating habits, reach out now.

If feelings of anxiety and depression continue for more than a couple of weeks, find help. For non-urgent needs, your physician, health plan or clergyperson can probably provide recommendations for a mental health provider.

The Mental Health Association of Westchester has been a leading provider of mental health services in Westchester for more than 68 years. Visit us at www.mhawestchester.org for information about mental health concerns and the ways we help more than 18,000 individuals each year.

Barbara Bernstein, Ph.D, MPH, is a licensed Psychologist who has worked with the Mental Health Association of Westchester for more than 15 years, primarily organizing professional development, community conferences and overseeing content of its website. Dr. Bernstein presents on numerous topics related to mental illnesses and health and speaks frequently about suicide prevention.

 

By Dawn Evans Greenberg

Now that my role as a full-time store owner and retailer has come to a close, I’m working on my biggest undertaking ever: to make the Chappaqua Children’s Book Festival a permanent part of the town’s landscape and a landmark annual event in the region. We were thrilled and pleasantly surprised at how well the festival did in its inaugural year, so we want to keep up the momentum and again, make this a very special and important day for our community and children. We will continue to work hard to attract new authors, add new and exciting activities, draw area residents to our town and make it something we can be proud of year-round.

I keep a quote from John Wesley in mind all the time: “Do all the good you can by all the means you can, all the ways you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can as long as ever you can.” In the spirit of these thoughtful words, I recently started working with the Ossining Children’s Center. My goal is to help the students, parents, teachers and administrators with emergency needs, as they arise. To me, nothing they could possibly need should be impossible to find. It’s very gratifying to me to make someone else’s life a little easier with even a small gesture.

I was raised in a small town in Florida by very involved, community-minded parents. If someone was hurting, we, as a community, helped–with a meal, a bag of groceries, watering their garden and lending a hand any way we could. It wasn’t ever a conscious decision to help; it was just how we lived our lives. I remember stories about my maternal grandparents, who owned a small restaurant in the mountains of Georgia, where they offered meals, hot showers, and a place to sleep for the “boys” returning from World War II. I have always believed if you are fortunate to have something that others would benefit from–time, talent, money, things–it’s your job, and should be a privilege, to share. I feel that we live in an extraordinarily blessed town in terms of resources and generosity of spirit. My goal is to keep tapping into that, and also set aside some time to have a little fun with my amazing husband and boys.

Dawn Evans Greenberg has lived in New Castle for 15 years, eight of which have been in Chappaqua. She earned a degree in journalism from the University of Florida then worked for 15 years in international publishing rights for United Features Syndicate and DC Comics. Her boys are in second grade at Roaring Brook and fifth grade at Bell.

Parents Weekend, Fall 2011

 

My bloodied tongue –

It seeks a reluctant home in my clenched mouth.

The scars are tender. 
They are new

And so am I, at watching her find her way.

I have faith, 
and I have fear.

I see so much, 
but can say so little.

 

I think I will work on 
enlarging my ears.

 

-Sharon Pollack