From mother’s helper to helpful mother

We moved to Teaneck in 2007, after a challenging time that included an infant’s serious illness and a six-month stretch when my husband had started a new job in New York, while I stayed in D.C. to sell our condo, pack our belongings, and finish the school year, while caring for our first four children, all under age 7.

To help keep the apartment neat enough to show, we packed up every toy except the Magnatiles and a shoebox of Polly Pockets. I’m certain my daughters’ lifelong creativity is due to that season of deprivation, or at least I feel less guilty telling myself that. I still have nightmares about pushing our double stroller, stuffed with children and groceries, with the infant strapped to my chest. You’d think at least I’d have developed sculpted arms. Maybe I needed more reps, although given my commitment to maintain my sanity, I probably maxed out.

Our first weekend in New Jersey, we herded our brood to shul, happy to finally have a Shabbat together to recuperate from the move, and looking forward to meeting some of our new neighbors. As it turned out, the most sustained relationship formed that Shabbat was with a child just a few years older than our own kids. A. was just 11, but a few minutes of conversation after services left me thinking Thank You HaShem for Sending Me This Gift! I immediately asked her to work for me, wanting to grab her before others had a chance to fill her schedule.

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Too young at that point to babysit on her own, she started off as a mother‘s helper, playing with the little ones and acting as the best big sister to our older girls. Eventually it was clear that she could handle them at home while I ran errands alone, a mechiah if there ever was one. At a certain stage of motherhood, not having to worry about a kid crawling out of the cart while you check berries for mold, or having a tantrum in aisle nine, is as good as a night out. It wasn’t long before a real night out was scheduled. A. was upgraded to full babysitter, the kind who actually plays with your kids, cleans up after dinner, and puts them to bed before you come home. Mary Poppins, move over, we had our own magical wonder.

So responsible was this person that we hardly remembered she was more or less a child herself. Typically, we picked her up from her home a few blocks away whenever she would work for us. One evening, when we were running a bit late getting ready to go to a simcha, we asked if she didn’t mind walking over just this once. Her response: It’s fine with me, but just let me make sure my dad will let me cross the street. DOH! Should we be leaving her alone with our now five kids, including a baby, if her own parents won’t let her walk three blocks? Would Social Services approve? Were our kids Neglecterinos? After a brief crisis of faith, we made our decision. The chuppah was beautiful.

Over the years, A. became a part of our family, our beloved all-purpose role model, big sister, and favorite helper. She’d help pack kids for camp, style hair for simchas, supervise slumber parties, draft bat mitzvah speeches, even teach piano to a very reluctant crew, with a blend of patience and toughness few could match, as we learned when she had the nerve to leave for college and force us into the professional market.

A. accompanied us to a few summers at the shore, bravely serving as a mother’s helper for our whole tribe of cousins.  I remember one evening when some kids wanted to leave the beach a bit early, so I asked her to take them home and start something for dinner. By the time the rest of us arrived, chicken and veggies were ready to devour. Little did I know she had not yet learned to cook; I only learned years later that my assumption that she could do anything wasn’t entirely correct. Still, her resourcefulness proved me right —  she had called her mom to walk her through rather than reveal the awful truth and ask us what to make and how. At her engagement party a few years ago, I was singing her praises to her future mother-in-law, who mentioned with awe verging on horror that A. had once babysat for a family with 14 kids! I didn’t let on that I might know them.

Is it any wonder that this child went on to amazing achievements, speaking at conferences across the country, including to a crowd of 50,000 at her own college graduation? Or that she became an MVP associate at the number one law firm in New York? I wish I could take credit for having raised her, but at least I know I can spot talent before it comes into full bloom.

Last weekend, I had the joy of seeing her with her own baby girl, wearing matching leopard print dresses and holding her in the same type of carrier I wore while pushing my girls and groceries. As matron of honor at her younger sister‘s wedding, she was still large and in charge, organizing a multitude of details, welcoming every guest, and delivering a captivating speech filled with her usual warmth, insight, and humor.

Will she find a helper as wonderful as herself? Will the lessons learned helping to raise my girlies encourage her as she now raises her own? Time will tell. For now, I’m definitely taking some credit.

Laura (Lori) Fein of Teaneck is a litigator at Eckert Seamans LLC. She is the daughter of the greatest mom ever, who she hopes is reading this, and the mom to five daughters who probably never will. Her podcast Mommash: The Oy and Joy of Family is available on all platforms, and she can be reached at mommash.podcast@gmail.com.