There is a new movie hitting theaters and mothers' guilt complexes across the country called "I Don't Know How She Does It".
Reality spoiler - she does not.
No. I have not watched the movie. But I have seen an extended sneak preview of the movie.
But if MY today is anything to go by -- "she" doesn't do it.
All.
At all.
I am one of the lucky ones.
I can choose to work. I can choose to leave my child in the care of others for the majority of the day. I can choose to pursue my passion and trust that my decisions will set the example for my child that a woman can pursue her dreams.
But that doe not mean that I have it all....
That it doesn't hurt.
I miss pediatrician appointments. I pretend at work that I don't have a child. I paid through the nose for the flexibility of a fabulous nanny so I could stay late at work without issue.
Now I obsess over the fellow mom's posting on the pre-school listserve that states she got 20 minutes with the teachers to see how her child is doing. Because she picked up her kid at the end of the school day.
My child goes on to aftercare because I am at work. I have no feedback from her teachers on how my precious 3-year old is adjusting.
Welcome to the world of the working mom.
So how do I do it?
Not well. Not without a heck of a lot of sleeplress nights.
I know that a happy child is best bred by a happy mom.
Am I happy?
Yes.
And no.
Today I paid unconditional homage to my job. I chose loyalty over self-ennhancement.
I gave up a couple of rather necessary good for me options for the thank goodness your employed necessities.
I do not need Hollywood to romanticize my life. Please let me know pronto if Sarah Jessica Parker was asked to get her hubby's permission before embarking on a business trip whilst pregnant -- and I'll drop my diatribe.
So how DOES she do it?
With a lot of help from her non-judgmenmtal friends and a whole lot of faith that what she is working for is worth it.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
All In The Family
On my 5th birthday I broke down sobbing that things were changing.
Since then, my aversion to change has been legendary.
Tomorrow, Marta, the woman who has helped raise my daughter and mentored me in motherhood, spends her last day with us.
And then she is off to California. To live. 3,000 miles away.
From me.
From La C.
Marta walked through our door on the first day of my daughter's fourth month of life and tomorrow my daughter will be 3 years and 17 days old.
In the intervening hours, months and years La C ----
Learned Spanish;
Learned to love the outdoors;
Laughed with abandon;
Developed amazing self-confidence.
Because of Marta.
Those of you who know me also know that aside from my adversion to change, I am the queen of control freaks. But I walked out the door that morning of the first day of La C's fourth month with an almost heretofore unknown sense of calm. I never asked where they went during the day. I never questioned what La C ate during the day. Because I knew that every morning Marta greeted La C with the same voice full of love that I did and La C smiled contentedly.
Because of Marta.
Marta knows all my secrets.
She knows that I am a lackluster housekeeper. She knows how forgetful I am. But she also knows how much my world revolves around La C and makes sure that I have the support I need.
I have tried to explain to La C what is happening. She is three. She does not truly understand.
I know that two weeks from now La C will wake up and call down the stairs to Marta. And I will have to Mom up.
Be the Mom.
The only Mom.
I am scared.
Not only am I losing my friend. A member of my family.
I am losing my safety net.
But if there is one thing Marta has taught both La C and me, it is that we can do anything.
Since then, my aversion to change has been legendary.
Tomorrow, Marta, the woman who has helped raise my daughter and mentored me in motherhood, spends her last day with us.
And then she is off to California. To live. 3,000 miles away.
From me.
From La C.
Marta walked through our door on the first day of my daughter's fourth month of life and tomorrow my daughter will be 3 years and 17 days old.
In the intervening hours, months and years La C ----
Learned Spanish;
Learned to love the outdoors;
Laughed with abandon;
Developed amazing self-confidence.
Because of Marta.
Those of you who know me also know that aside from my adversion to change, I am the queen of control freaks. But I walked out the door that morning of the first day of La C's fourth month with an almost heretofore unknown sense of calm. I never asked where they went during the day. I never questioned what La C ate during the day. Because I knew that every morning Marta greeted La C with the same voice full of love that I did and La C smiled contentedly.
Because of Marta.
Marta knows all my secrets.
She knows that I am a lackluster housekeeper. She knows how forgetful I am. But she also knows how much my world revolves around La C and makes sure that I have the support I need.
I have tried to explain to La C what is happening. She is three. She does not truly understand.
I know that two weeks from now La C will wake up and call down the stairs to Marta. And I will have to Mom up.
Be the Mom.
The only Mom.
I am scared.
Not only am I losing my friend. A member of my family.
I am losing my safety net.
But if there is one thing Marta has taught both La C and me, it is that we can do anything.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Captain Obvious and the Attack of the Redundancy Clones
Have you ever heard a recording of your voice and were startled by how you sounded?
The voice inside my head (ha ha, you can stop chuckling now) - the voice I hear inside my head (yeah, yeah, just as bad) - sounds a little deep, rather loud and a bit choppy. I am always surprised when people ask me to speak up.
I have the same issue with observations.
Sometimes it seems that I am the only one who sees the giant shark zooming towards the helpless occupants of the sinking life raft ---
Duhn-duhn! Duhn-duhn!! Duhn-duhn!!! Duhn!!!! *Wild screaming*
Duh!!!!
This is not to say that I am the reigning Miss Smarty-Pants-Know-it-All. No, no - I feed that fantasy with this blog. In real life I am just happy to get in, get out, and get home.
But there are a few things lately that have me unfurling my Captain Obvious cape.
1. Rompers. On grown women. Women who paired them with stilettos and slunk around nightclubs. Or on dates. With someone to whom they presumably wanted to appear attractive and sophisticated. "Let me slip out of this romper in to something more comfortable...". They actually marketed these monstrosities as ROMPERS. Trust me - Urban Outfitters, society and the Tea Party are doing a yeoman's job of sidelining women as inferior / infantile beings; y'all need not lift a finger or a hanger attached to a romper to help.
2. Guns, Bars, and Bad Ideas. Now I have nothing against the state of Ohio - it's fun to say, it's fun to spell. Apparently, however, not a single member of the Ohio State Assembly learned a darn tootin' thing from Gunsmoke. Beer + Bar brawls + Guns = BAD. Yet, in July the Ohio State Assembly passed and the Governor signed, a bill allowing concealed, loaded guns to be carried in to places where alcohol is served. Supporters of the bill stated it would bring Ohio in to alignment with other states -- yeah, um, other than Ohio, only four other states in the nation explicitly allow concealed, loaded guns in bars. I'm guessing those remaining 45 states rather like the prospect of repeat customers with enough fingers to hold a pint glass.
3. History. Those who do not learn from it are doomed to repeat it. (Thank you George Santayana and my mother, for whom this quote is a favorite.) Or at the very least grow complacent in the face of history. Social media in totality is like a giant "Second Life" world. We are both ourselves and our avatars at the same time. How is it that social media allows us to engage in behavior/dialogue that would bring a chill to any cocktail party conversation. Let me be blunt. Tweeting that you are missing happy hour with the girls to meet a work deadline and using the hashtag #whitegirlproblems is offensive. It is sobering how often this term is bandied about in our virtual ether. By otherwise seemingly intelligent people. Cut it out folks.
4. Red Rover, Red Rover. I hated the game as a kid. Right up there with dodgeball. And the rope climb in gym,,,,but I digress. The Great State of Virginia has seen fit to allow motorcyclists, moped riders and bicyclists to pass through red lights, as long as there is no oncoming traffic, after waiting 120 seconds or two cycles of the light. Yep, I really believe those diligent bicyclists that careen between cars on busy roads and do not yield to cars using their indicators to turn right, are going to just sit politely counting 120 seconds at a red light. Pardon me, but do you have any Grey Poupon? And when did a motorcycle begin to resemble a bike more than a car - Those puppies can pass my lead foot any day unlike the bicyclist whose backside I get to track for two miles as they peddle mightily into the wind at five miles an hour.
So you see these are not things that are vital to national security. You can go back to your regularly scheduled programming at ease in the knowledge that Captain Obvious is watching over us all.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Chopping Blocks and Soap Boxes
L'economie, elle est malade.
Talk about your worst nightmare - reliving SAT prep all over again----
- Entitlement programs are to block grants what deficit is to appropriations.
- If House Bill for $X trillion passes with 224 votes and Senate Bill for $XX billion passes with 52 votes, how many State funded programs will lose their Federal match?
For weeks the citizens of our great nation have tuned in, gaped, scratched their heads, decried taxation, and then tuned out when a bill passed. You know, something was passed - a trillion something - what exactly was cut to add up to those trillions?...eh, who knows.
Apparently Jill Citizen is confident that this debt thing will sort itself out now that something passed.
My friends we are way beyond the mystery of the Hogwart's Sorting hat.
For those who work in the trenches of the Federal government, the reality is vivid. The sorting painful. The impact deep.
It will take the American public several years before the individual citizen appreciates the uncomfortable reality of what was lost and gained.
Which is why I am fascinated by the hue and cry over the slated demise of the House Page Program. Really? This is what gets the moderates to mobilize?
There is a petition. National media. Dueling rumors as to why the program is ending - fiscal vs. scandal.
It feels so "inside the Beltway". Do North Dakotans really care?
I read an impassioned blog post today to save the vaunted Page Program and I couldn't stop laughing. I laughed so hard I cried.
Believer Blogger could not believe that this 200 year-old program that brought 4,000 youth to the Capital over a twenty year period and cost $5 million annually, could possibly be put on the chopping block! For those of you playing at home that is 200 Pages a year at $25,000 per Page.
Believer Blogger and apparently thousands of others are frustrated that a program that inspires engaged citizenry in our youth is being ended at a moment in our history that demands the next generations step up.
We had that - a federally funded national service program annually engaging over a million youth in engaged citizenry. Learn and Serve America. Reduced drop out numbers. Built community playgrounds, gardens, environmental conservation programs. Engaged youth in state and local policy and government. And this twenty year old program was cut in the 2011 fiscal debate prelude to the debt ceiling debate.
Yes, that is bitterness dripping from my text.
Each budget cut is personal.
Every single "ion" in the trillions of dollars in cuts has supported some portion of the population in some way. Perhaps we may not need a set aside program for engaging youth as informed and active citizens - they may not have a choice but to step up.
That is my impassioned blogger moment. At least this hour's impassioned moment.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
The Mother's Day Dilemma
It has come to my attention that I view Mother's Day rather differently than a good deal of mothers.
When the Love of My Life asked what I wanted to do for Mother's Day; I was ready. I laid out a detailed schedule of me time with the occasional drop in by La c and Love of My Life.
"Ookkaayyy." he said. Wisely withholding further comment.
But that "Ookkaayyy." stayed with me.
Was I the only mother on the planet who saw Mother's Day as a day off?
I asked a friend what she was doing for Mother's Day and she replied she had not really thought about it and when was it?
Sigh. That did not help my cause.
Several more inquiries of friends later --- all of whom were planning kidlet filled Mother's Days --- and I knew my place as most selfish mother was set.
In my head I planned a new day. It was all La C all the time. It was bucolic...lazy breakfast, picking flowers on a walk, a picnic, lilting breezes, nap times.
We kind of do that every weekend - minus the picnic - we are so darn tired by the end of the week that the weekend is pretty much a laid back affair following the whim of the tiniest whirling dervish.
And once in a while on those days I wish, fleetingly, for one day of naps when I want one. Or take a walk at greater than a glacial pace. Or a pedicure that doesn't require precision timing to when someone else's nap ends.
So for Mother's Day I am taking the day off. Guilt free.
Because I know that the other 364 days of the year La C is the center of my day...my thoughts...my decisions...my actions...my world.
FASHION P.S. - Below are three outfits to match how you choose to spend your Mother's Day. Whether you are going out to brunch with your mother-in-law, spending the day with the kidlets or taking a personal day you can rock being a chic mom.
When the Love of My Life asked what I wanted to do for Mother's Day; I was ready. I laid out a detailed schedule of me time with the occasional drop in by La c and Love of My Life.
"Ookkaayyy." he said. Wisely withholding further comment.
But that "Ookkaayyy." stayed with me.
Was I the only mother on the planet who saw Mother's Day as a day off?
I asked a friend what she was doing for Mother's Day and she replied she had not really thought about it and when was it?
Sigh. That did not help my cause.
Several more inquiries of friends later --- all of whom were planning kidlet filled Mother's Days --- and I knew my place as most selfish mother was set.
In my head I planned a new day. It was all La C all the time. It was bucolic...lazy breakfast, picking flowers on a walk, a picnic, lilting breezes, nap times.
We kind of do that every weekend - minus the picnic - we are so darn tired by the end of the week that the weekend is pretty much a laid back affair following the whim of the tiniest whirling dervish.
And once in a while on those days I wish, fleetingly, for one day of naps when I want one. Or take a walk at greater than a glacial pace. Or a pedicure that doesn't require precision timing to when someone else's nap ends.
So for Mother's Day I am taking the day off. Guilt free.
Because I know that the other 364 days of the year La C is the center of my day...my thoughts...my decisions...my actions...my world.
FASHION P.S. - Below are three outfits to match how you choose to spend your Mother's Day. Whether you are going out to brunch with your mother-in-law, spending the day with the kidlets or taking a personal day you can rock being a chic mom.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Casual Friday in the Non-Profit / Federal Government World
This past Monday was the annual White House Easter Egg Roll. When the lottery results for tickets were announced --- and phooey, no we did not get one...par for the course apparently as we are discovering that La C's luck with lotteries bites but anyhoo --- some thrilled to the gills mother actually posted an inquiry on the local parents' listserve asking for guidance on what her precious darlings should wear to the event.
Give back your tickets now. Seriously.
My blood pressure cannot take repeating here what the original poster thought might be appropriate nor what the majority of posters thought would be appropriate. Needless to say, I did not agree.
In the annoyingly hypnotic words of Dora the Explorer, "Where are we going?!"
To the White House. The home of the leader of the largest democracy on the globe.
Hit it Aretha!
R-E-S-P-E-C-T.
Parents wear dress pants, sports coats, modest sundresses, etc. Little tykes in khakis and polos and little misses in sundresses. Or some approximation of the suggestions above.
But for the love of all the civility that is ebbing from our society, this isn't a trip to Target.
Do not wear flip flops. Do not even dream of donning a tank top with different colored straps - it is called a strapless bra people and they are $9.99 at your beloved Target.
Do. Not. Chew. Gum.
I know it will either be stinking hot or pouring rain (it alternates such weather every year without fail). I know it will be crowded. I know the wait in line to get in is interminable.
Does not matter.
Remember there will be photographic evidence that you looked better at your third cousin once removed's 50th birthday party than you did on the South Lawn of the White House.
Just something to think about.
So long story short - this same dress code question rises with the sun every Friday morning of the hot and humid Washington, DC summer. Once you have slogged your way to the office sweating and dry heaving you sit at your desk shivering under the arctic blast of the air conditioning.
The key is layering. Every DC fashionista worth her salt has this mantra written in lipstick across her bathroom mirror.
The day of the peekaboo camisole is over. Today, these babies are loud and proud. Wear a cami that can be seen sans blazer/cardigan on your commute. This means investing in a strapless bra - absolutely essential. Throw on the outer layer the second the first chilling tendrils of air brush your sweat glistened skin - this means as the front door of your office building comes in to view.
The other key to DC summers is that casual Friday is a bit of a myth. It really only exists in the non-profit /consulting /government arena. The legal/lobbyist/financial sector....well you are rather S** out of luck. We'd be more empathetic but you do get those lovely bonuses....
Below are two sets of casual Friday ideas for those offices that allow and encourage it. I leave it to you to know the lay of the land in your own office. I have taken a simple set of staples as the base of the outfit and used color schemes and accessories to create the vibe.
While you may not be enamored with these outfits, I ask that you take away one thing from today's blog post -- neither of these two outfits contain denim.
That is all.
Give back your tickets now. Seriously.
My blood pressure cannot take repeating here what the original poster thought might be appropriate nor what the majority of posters thought would be appropriate. Needless to say, I did not agree.
In the annoyingly hypnotic words of Dora the Explorer, "Where are we going?!"
To the White House. The home of the leader of the largest democracy on the globe.
Hit it Aretha!
R-E-S-P-E-C-T.
Parents wear dress pants, sports coats, modest sundresses, etc. Little tykes in khakis and polos and little misses in sundresses. Or some approximation of the suggestions above.
But for the love of all the civility that is ebbing from our society, this isn't a trip to Target.
Do not wear flip flops. Do not even dream of donning a tank top with different colored straps - it is called a strapless bra people and they are $9.99 at your beloved Target.
Do. Not. Chew. Gum.
I know it will either be stinking hot or pouring rain (it alternates such weather every year without fail). I know it will be crowded. I know the wait in line to get in is interminable.
Does not matter.
Remember there will be photographic evidence that you looked better at your third cousin once removed's 50th birthday party than you did on the South Lawn of the White House.
Just something to think about.
So long story short - this same dress code question rises with the sun every Friday morning of the hot and humid Washington, DC summer. Once you have slogged your way to the office sweating and dry heaving you sit at your desk shivering under the arctic blast of the air conditioning.
The key is layering. Every DC fashionista worth her salt has this mantra written in lipstick across her bathroom mirror.
The day of the peekaboo camisole is over. Today, these babies are loud and proud. Wear a cami that can be seen sans blazer/cardigan on your commute. This means investing in a strapless bra - absolutely essential. Throw on the outer layer the second the first chilling tendrils of air brush your sweat glistened skin - this means as the front door of your office building comes in to view.
The other key to DC summers is that casual Friday is a bit of a myth. It really only exists in the non-profit /consulting /government arena. The legal/lobbyist/financial sector....well you are rather S** out of luck. We'd be more empathetic but you do get those lovely bonuses....
Below are two sets of casual Friday ideas for those offices that allow and encourage it. I leave it to you to know the lay of the land in your own office. I have taken a simple set of staples as the base of the outfit and used color schemes and accessories to create the vibe.
While you may not be enamored with these outfits, I ask that you take away one thing from today's blog post -- neither of these two outfits contain denim.
That is all.
Monday, January 24, 2011
...It's My Birthday Too!!
So today is my birthday. I am old. Older than I think of myself as being.
In my mind I am 27.
In the mirror I see 27. (They say the eyesight is the first to go.)
And in my mind's eye, I am 27.
Usually on my respective past birthdays I have vacillated between railing against change and craving accolades that I have achieved a new age.
This year I am experiencing an unexpected sense of calm. An almost zen, out of body appraisal of the fact that today is my birthday. That time is marching on. That change, in its maddening single mindedness, is transforming me and my life.
And I am okay with it.
Then again it could just be that I am in a state of elated countdown to my Caribbean vacation next week.
I suspect, however, it is the littlest boo that is grounding me.
That whirling, pink tulled dervish whose voice seems to only operate at decibel 10.
You all remember my grinchy holiday blog post. Well, Christmas was amazing and I survived. But. I had this thought one night on the way home from work.
I was sitting in the car at a stoplight two blocks from home. The carols were playing. It was dark and chilly out. I was staring at a house with its holiday lights and decorations.
And I realized that I will do this -- Christmas -- potentially --- 50 more times.
Fifty more Christmases.
And all that entails.
Fifty more years of living life fully as an adult.
Calculating that I have been living life fully as an adult since I was 18 -- I have only been at this for 20 years.
I have 50 more to go.
It makes time seem so liquid.
Because it isn't the actuality of the passage of time, it is how we fill those ticking tocks.
It is the milk through your nose laughter with friends -
The recognition as you enter a sun splashed room that this is your favorite time of day -
The loss of a loved one that sharpens the point of life -
The calendar entry that takes for granted tomorrow is a new day.
It is staggering and humbling and joyous to realize I may have 50 more years.
RECESSION FASHION P.S.
I have a new toy --- I found a site where I can pull together outfits with pricing links!! It is like paper dolls all over again!
I might have mentioned how I am off for my annual girls' beach winter getaway next week so I pulled together some winter getaway appropriate outfits.
Travelling in style is tough these days what with the flying sardine cans but give this comfy chic outfit a try!
Sightseeing or shopping in the warmer climes means cool, casual and pulled together!
Dinner by the sea is a must! Take advantage of the spring's love of maxi skirts to add some elegance to your evening.
In my mind I am 27.
In the mirror I see 27. (They say the eyesight is the first to go.)
And in my mind's eye, I am 27.
Usually on my respective past birthdays I have vacillated between railing against change and craving accolades that I have achieved a new age.
This year I am experiencing an unexpected sense of calm. An almost zen, out of body appraisal of the fact that today is my birthday. That time is marching on. That change, in its maddening single mindedness, is transforming me and my life.
And I am okay with it.
Then again it could just be that I am in a state of elated countdown to my Caribbean vacation next week.
I suspect, however, it is the littlest boo that is grounding me.
That whirling, pink tulled dervish whose voice seems to only operate at decibel 10.
You all remember my grinchy holiday blog post. Well, Christmas was amazing and I survived. But. I had this thought one night on the way home from work.
I was sitting in the car at a stoplight two blocks from home. The carols were playing. It was dark and chilly out. I was staring at a house with its holiday lights and decorations.
And I realized that I will do this -- Christmas -- potentially --- 50 more times.
Fifty more Christmases.
And all that entails.
Fifty more years of living life fully as an adult.
Calculating that I have been living life fully as an adult since I was 18 -- I have only been at this for 20 years.
I have 50 more to go.
It makes time seem so liquid.
Because it isn't the actuality of the passage of time, it is how we fill those ticking tocks.
It is the milk through your nose laughter with friends -
The recognition as you enter a sun splashed room that this is your favorite time of day -
The loss of a loved one that sharpens the point of life -
The calendar entry that takes for granted tomorrow is a new day.
It is staggering and humbling and joyous to realize I may have 50 more years.
RECESSION FASHION P.S.
I have a new toy --- I found a site where I can pull together outfits with pricing links!! It is like paper dolls all over again!
I might have mentioned how I am off for my annual girls' beach winter getaway next week so I pulled together some winter getaway appropriate outfits.
Travelling in style is tough these days what with the flying sardine cans but give this comfy chic outfit a try!
Sightseeing or shopping in the warmer climes means cool, casual and pulled together!
Dinner by the sea is a must! Take advantage of the spring's love of maxi skirts to add some elegance to your evening.
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