The Idea of... A Working Mom

Ahhh, the life of a working mom. It's really glamorous. I get to rush from one place to the next... Rushing to get to the office on time to squeeze every moment of productivity out of my day and then rushing to get home so I can squeeze every minute left with my kids from the evening.

Trust me, I'm not complaining. But there is this fantasy that you get to dress nice and someone brings you a latte when you sit down at your desk and then you have lunch at some fabulous place while discussing important things and running into other fantastic people you know... Maybe that's someone's reality - just not mine.

I know I have it good compared to a lot of working moms. And I do love my job, which is something very few people can say. Since having W I've had the flexibility to work from home a couple days each week. I try to keep my calls to within the hours I have a sitter, but sometimes a volunteer or donor calls me back after my sitter leaves and I have no choice but to answer and apologize up front for the screaming children they might hear in the background. Or the clanging of pots as I try to get dinner together while discussing whether a corporate sponsor would be upset if we accept sponsorship from their competitor (we agreed they would).

And, you know how it is... Your kids see you on the phone and decide that is the exact moment they need to talk to you, have you pick them up, are STARVING, etc. etc. etc. I sound really professional as I'm shushing kids while switching on and off mute. 

It's a constant juggling act. How cliche is that? But, it is. I check my email while the kids are happily playing or eating breakfast. I bring work home and do it from my couch after the kids are sleeping for the night. I fill in my days around these two things. It doesn't leave room for a ton of other stuff. And because I'm now part-time I don't have that awesome, reliable sitter who helps make my world go round. So, my kids still like to throw fits every now and then when I leave the house in the morning or hang onto my leg and wipe their yogurt-covered-hands on my just-cleaned-sweater in protest as I try to sneak by them. How's that for glamorous?

This post was inspired by the novel The Idea of Him by Holly Peterson. Allie thought she had the perfect husband, until she finds him and another woman in a compromising position in their own apartment. Join From Left to Write on April we discuss The Idea of Him. Join us for a live chat with Holly on April 3.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Just Another Morning With Two Working Parents & A Surprise

Today should have been one of those days that fell into place. I stayed up late last night and marinated chicken and chopped veggies for a Greek salad for tonight's dinner. I woke up a half hour early this morning to make lunches for Matt and me and make sure I could get showered and dressed early enough to help W with his new morning routine (make bed, go to the bathroom, brush teeth). I put on an outfit I liked, put on makeup, and then went in to wake up W. He likes to take his time getting out of bed and - though I always do - it feels wrong to rush him in the morning. So, I gave him extra time this morning and didn't turn on the light to get him moving as I usually do.

We got into the bathroom, started brushing his teeth, and in the light I realized that his eye was swollen. Like really swollen. I asked W if he fell at preschool or remembered anything hitting him in the eye. He said no. And then I remembered that the evening before, as our nanny was getting ready to leave, W called us into his room to show us something (can't remember what it was) and ended up pulling a curtain rod down on his head... with his mom and nanny watching. At first we were concerned, but he yelled out: "Take that curtain to someone else's house. It's bad!" So, we ended up laughing and he didn't seem hurt. He ate a really good dinner, had a bath, played, and acted totally normal after the rod incident. But, that had to be source of the swollen eye. I touched the side of his head where I suspected a bruise was forming and the rod had hit him, he confirmed it hurt. Bingo.

One of the more unspoken moments of two working parents is deciding who stays home. Matt and I usually stare at each other for a minute, mentally review our day and the other's stress level, and then one of us offers to stay home. It had to be me today. Matt took one for the team when I was traveling a couple weeks ago and B spiked a fever. So, with my bag packed, all dressed and ready to go, I jumped on my computer to see what would have to be moved on my calendar and emailed my understanding bosses (how they are still understanding, I don't know) that I would have to work from home.

Our nanny arrived as I was sending the email and B ran to me and held on tight, clearly freaked out by the excitement in our house. I decided to drive Matt to the train. Matt gave W a hug good bye and a complete breakdown followed. Full on tears, open mouth crying, snot... Clearly the kid was in pain and dad leaving was the trigger. So, I told him that if he stopped crying he could come with me to the train station, which worked. Until B figured out what was going on (the kid understands everything, but says very little) and got hysterical as well, which made W hysterical and insist that we couldn't leave B at home. So, there Matt and I stood, defeated by a swollen eye or curtain rod or whatever triggered this morning. By now Matt had missed our normal train, so we each grabbed a kid and headed for the train station. Meanwhile, our nanny was left to hang out with Howie. Poor thing.

Anyway, it all worked out fine. I called the doctor as soon as they opened, scored a late morning appointment, headed down to my basement office and crossed a couple of things off my to-do list. I took W to the doctor who mentioned he might have a black eye when he wakes up tomorrow and confirmed he seemed fine otherwise. I even managed to hold him down long enough to get a flu shot. I stopped and had a special lunch on the way home with him, capped off with a special cookie (flu shot bribery). Then the boys spent the afternoon with our nanny at the park and I got back to work. Our nanny stayed a little late so I could catch up. I entertained the boys, started dinner (much easier given the prep work), and then strapped the boys in the car to pick up Matt from the train station. I felt like I had somehow found a balance. I made both my mom and work responsibilities happen today only because I work for and with people who are understanding and value my work.

But I'd be lying if there wasn't a voice in the back of my head that kept repeating what Matt said on the way to the train station: "How are we going to juggle all of this with three?"

Two Working Parents and Three Childcare Providers

These are not my kids, but might as well be.

 Our house is a circus these days. I know, you're thinking, "As if it's not always a circus." But, seriously, things are getting a little out of hand. We currently have three different childcare providers for the boys. THREE. (And NO I am not Camille from RHOBH, though I would take her divorce settlement and seemingly endless amounts of free time, but I digress...)

I hired Nanny K (who I am pretty much obsessed with) before the end of my maternity leave with B. As you might remember, my mom watched W five days a week prior to B being born, which was amazing and kind and one of the best gifts she could have given us. We agreed that when B was born, I would seek a part-time nanny so that my mom could still spend a few days with the boys and have some much-needed time for herself. And Nanny K was like our Mary Poppins.

Once we were settled with Nanny K (again, I LOVE her) my sister had her baby and as she was getting set to go back to work, she learned that her three days back would be on the days my mom watched my boys. Clearly, my mom could not watch all three boys, so I decided I would remove our family from the equation and find nanny care for them on those days. Not willing to give up Nanny K and not able to hire her on full-time (she works with another family, too), I had to hire another nanny. Enter Nanny O (who has been with us for three weeks). So, now I have my mom for one day a week, Nanny K for two days each week, and Nanny O for two days each week (plus my mom who is sticking close to my house on those days to get her settled). Confused yet? Me too...

Now the logical thing would be for me to find a new full-time nanny and do away with the two part-time nannies, right? Wrong. You see, Nanny K is done with school in May and the other mom she works with works at a school, so most likely will not need her services over the summer and beyond (as Nanny K will be looking for a new job and could stop nannying at any time). So, I am holding out for getting Nanny K either four days a week or full time starting in May. (Seriously, she is so worth the wait and gamble.)

I've gone back and forth over what our best solution would be... And I decided that right now this is what is best for us. I figured it wouldn't be that big of a deal, that we could roll with the punches and the kids would be fine. And they are. But, things are just getting crazy. Every day W asks who is coming over. He's hot and cold about me going to work. He's hot and cold about who is coming to play with him. He misses his one-on-one time my mom. He will only nap for Nanny K and it's become a game for him. It's just a lot of change and the revolving door means that I'm scrambling to keep everything organized and keep the days straight.

But, I have learned that my kids are really good with new people and take to them rather quickly. I've learned that they don't have attachment issues, but just enough to show that they love me. I've learned that nannies are expensive, so we're suddenly bleeding money in addition to feeling all over the place. And I've learned that this is not an ideal situation, but I'm determined to make it work. I'm not sure what will make it better, but this revolving door needs some greasing.

Sleep Patterns Impact Everything

The last two months have been tremendous when it comes to bed time around here. Both kids have been total champs about going down easy and staying asleep... Until last week when things started to unravel. Not fair to do to parents who have gotten used to a full night's sleep for a while.

W is now refusing to fall asleep unless one of us lays in bed with him and - if we don't - has a new habit of letting himself out of his room. B broke his normal habit of sleeping through the night with waking for a 3:00 am feeding and then it became a 20 minute cycle of feeding, putting down, crying, cuddling, putting down, crying, and on and on. (And Matt was out of town last weekend, which meant little to no sleep for mom and Nana had to come over to help with bedtime.)

I know kids have phases and sleep patterns that will change many times. But, once you get into a routine, you depend on it. Every detail impacts the next. For example, Matt couldn't take Howie for a walk this morning, because he opened the bathroom door after his shower and found W standing there with his blanket ready to start the day at 5:30, rather than his normal 6:00. Normally, I get into the shower at 5:30 and W wakes up as Matt gets home from his walk. But, I didn't get up on time, because I was a train wreck, having slept holding a baby off and on through the night.

That all translated into me pulling up to the train station as the gates went down and then my mom driving to a different station to catch the next train with Howie rolling around in the back of her car along with some hand weights and W constantly asking WHERE we were going, WHY we were going that way, and insisting he didn't like it. I ran for the train, caught it, but then was getting in the city five minutes later, which meant I didn't have time to stop for coffee. And now I'm still tired. See where I'm going with this?

Parenting is all about flexibility, rolling with the punches, and handling what life throws at you, but dammit, it's also about a schedule... If only the munchkins in this house would respect that.

Advice: Don't ever get too comfortable or reliant on a schedule, because you never know what next week will bring.

Rough Morning With a Silver Lining

11:00 pm: Went to sleep.

1:45 am: B wakes up, diaper change, feeding, and unusually long fussy time.

3:45 am: I lay back down.

4:00 am: W is calling me from his room because he has wet through his diaper. This also happened a few days ago and the mattress pad is not on the bed. Wake up Matt to clean up the kid while I strip the sheets and do an internet search for "how to clean urine out of mattress." Clean spot with carpet cleaner, sprinkle with baking soda, and then cover with plastic.

4:30 am: I get back in bed and B starts to fuss. I take him out to calm him down.

4:45 am: Matt's alarm clock goes off and W refuses to go back to sleep. We watch two episodes of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

5:30 am: Matt leaves for work. I convince W to lay down with me once B falls asleep.

5:45 am: Diaper explosion from B, explaining his fussiness that bothered him all night.

6:00 am: I give up on sleep. Pour a cup of coffee and decide to write a blog post.

Reality: I'm exhausted and not looking forward to dealing with a very tired W all day.

Silver Lining: I got to write a blog post!

Making Healthy Food Choices with Kellogg's FiberPlus Cereal

I love cereal. I really do. All my life cereal has been one of my go-to foods. I have great memories of sitting at the kitchen table eating many bowls of cereal. As I’ve gotten older, so has my taste, and the cereal I eat has changed considerably. I still adore cereal, but the sugary options that I used to reach for are now far too sweet for me. More important, reading the side of most cereal boxes is reason enough to change your tastes. While delicious, cereal is often not a nutritional win.

With so many options for my favorite food, I really try to make the best choices possible. My biggest priorities with cereal is that they’re high fiber, whole grain, and satisfy my taste for a little sweetness and a good crunch. With the insane schedule we keep, I often have cereal for a meal. I focus on high fiber options for breakfast, knowing it helps me to start my day with a filling meal and a healthy choice (which I hope I’ll continue to do all day). It’s often my lunch when I’m working at home and becomes dinner when I have a meeting after work. The busier we are, the more cereal I tend to eat.

Lately I’ve found new cereals to work into my rotation. Kellogg’s FiberPlus Berry Yogurt Crunch and Cinnamon Oat Crunch fit my specific tastes perfectly and are great when I need something quick, easy, and satisfying. Often high fiber cereals tend to either get too soggy or don’t deliver with flavor, but these make me happy and I feel confident sharing them with my kids.

Teaching my kids healthy eating habits is one of my main priorities as a mom. Our eating habits are above average: we eat organic whenever possible, a lot of whole grains, few white breads or rice, and stick to lean meats. I’m not perfect and wouldn’t consider myself to be a nutrition freak, rather I’d call myself a conscientious eater. Having options that allow me to continue to satisfy my own tastes and cravings while teaching my kids how to make good choices makes life a little easier.

And anything that makes my life easier and is healthy is something I can get really excited about. Don't you agree?

DISCLOSURE: I received compensation and a box of each of the Kellogg's FiberPlus cereals to review for this post. The opinions shared in this post are all my own.

Hard Day

This is how my day started: I woke up early to get some work done (as in WORK work) because I was dreaming about it all night. I work from home on Wednesdays, so the thought of having to wait a few hours to sit down and start working was hard. W woke up 15 minutes later. I continued to work. We dropped Matt off at the train station, came home to read some books, and my computer was calling me.

So, I opened it up and kept working until... A little hand slammed his Woody doll onto the key board and the screen of my computer flipped, as in went upside down: I tried not to yell. I kept my cool, told him he did something very wrong, broke my computer, and mommy was very upset. Very upset, because you can't slam toys like that. You just can't.

And then I felt terrible. It was my fault. He still deserved time with me before my mom came to get him, but I have no self control. And now I had three documents on my desktop that I had to email to a designer with no idea how I was going to do it. (I ended up turning the computer upside down and reversing the direction of the mouse to painfully attach each document and send the email.) Then I used our other computer the rest of the day feeling terrible about how my morning with W went.

Things got a little worse when I went to the doctor for a check-up this afternoon. She doesn't seem super confident that I'll make it to my due date (5/27) or even to May 19th, which is an event for work that I want to be at. The baby's head is down, he's definitely dropped, things are falling into place. I know I have more time, but we're getting there.

So, I did the only thing I could at that point: I got into the car, called Matt, and I cried. This doesn't happen often. I don't cry and if I do, I certainly don't call someone to do it on the phone. But, I called Matt and cried because I felt bad about what happened with W and the thought of having this baby early completely freaks me out. I couldn't internalize these feelings anymore, I have been for longer than I realized. How am I supposed to prepare W for sharing my attention, how am I supposed to learn to control how easily I get distracted?

I don't want more computer incidents to happen. Thankfully resourceful Matt fixed it and I'm posting this now with a screen right side up. Yes, most things are fixable, but feelings aren't. I don't want W to remember times like this, times when I should be focused on him, but aren't.

And, you know what? Emotional basket case doesn't look good on me. So, I sucked it up, forced myself to make us a nice dinner (eggplant ragu pasta) and promised myself I'll be better tomorrow.

"I Don't Lug You, Either"

We're currently in the "chase me if you want me to go anywhere and then I will fight to the end to stay home" phase, especially when we're headed to the train station to go to work. W loves going out, but getting the jacket and shoes on is a constant challenge. I know it's a control thing, but I am really ready to lose the jacket come summer. But then we'll be wrestling him with sunscreen...

Anyway, this morning I was chasing him around, explaining it was time to go to the train. I caught him after my third lap around the coffee table, threw him over my shoulder (kicking and screaming), and then heard him drop the bomb that every kid will drop.

"I don't LOVE you." I am positive this is what he said.

"What did you say?" I asked, not in my angry voice, mind you.

"I said I don't LUG you."

"Are you sure? I thought you said LOVE."

"No, I do LOVE you, I just really don't LUG you."

OK, first off, I find him telling me that he doesn't love me to be hilarious. Because I know it's not true.

Secondly, I am in huge trouble, because I have totally created a mini me. (Ba ha ha, world domination will be mine!)

Thirdly, I've decided that LUG is a verb that means: to enjoy cooperating with one's parents when it is time to go to work.

It can be used in the following ways:
-My kid is great at lugging, he has his coat on and is ready to go before I am!
-My son can't lug to save his life, all he wants to do is play his dinosaur puzzles.
-Getting a kid to lug is tough, but using donuts as bribery makes it easier!

How To Catch a Mouse

Last week I woke up to Matt whisper/shouting my name, telling me he needed help. I assumed it was W waking up with another bout of stomach flu, but instead Howie had cornered a mouse behind the couch. That's right: Mouse in the house.

I *might* have raised my voice and scared Howie off to the bedroom (not good, considering he was our best chance of actually catching it). This only resulted in our scampering around, coming up with a plan, shrieking (me, not Matt), and then focusing on the plan: Matt would use a broom to usher mouse into the empty shoe box I was holding, then release outside. It was an intense couple of minutes.

But, then we got him, and as Matt steadily came down with the broom, the mouse stopped moving and there may have been some blood. And our little mouse friend was done for. The shoe box would be his final resting place.

I came up with some very logical reasons for how the mouse got in: An open door, the drier vent hose-thingy broke that was broken earlier that week, maybe he crawled down the chimney. All seemed like logical answers for the fact that there was only one mouse seeking warmth and we took care of him. I went to bed feeling good that night, confident it was a done deal.

And then Matt decided to investigate further and found traces of a mouse in the uninsulated area way under the kitchen sink, a corner of the house you can barely reach. We set a trap with a little cheese to see if our deceased mouse had left behind a friend. Nothing. Trap went unsprung for days. Then one morning the cheese had been snatched, but no mouse was left behind. Apparently our mouse had an accomplice.

Matt took to the web and -- after some insightful research -- learned that the best thing to put on a mouse trap is peanut butter. So, he put peanut butter on two traps, positioned them in the scary area, and wouldn't you know... I woke up this morning and was informed that we had caught not one, but two mice. Now our mouse issue is a mice issue. (I know, insane, right?)

I worked from home today and BRAVELY encouraged Matt to reset the traps. I listened carefully for any snap noise, kept checking them, totally freaking about what I might find... And nothing all day. It's like a horror movie.

A horror movie that gets worse... Because Matt is going skiing this weekend. What if a mouse gets loose? Seriously! What the heck would I do? I shudder to think of it. Ugh.

I know, I know... It's ridiculous for me to freak out. We have no signs of mouse activity outside of this one area, no chewed open bread bags or cereal boxes or those other gross signs. They're contained. And we have a 50+ year old house and it's been about 50 degrees below zero. Of course a mouse found a way in! What are the chances that we got the three free loaders or that taking a few down will lead any others to retreat and kindly exit stage left?

Let's hope we've won the war.

NOTE AFTER ORIGINAL POSTING: This morning the traps were mouse-free, but some of the peanut butter seemed to be missing. To play it safe, Matt tightened the spring. This could be a good sign.

"Don't Go To Work, Mama"

This morning as I was getting ready to head out to work the little guy grabbed my skirt, looked up at me with his big brown eyes and said: "Please don't go to work, mama."

It was the first time he had asked me to stay home. He even said please. And all I could do was tell him I was sorry, that I had to go. He didn’t cry or beg or tantrum over it, just accepted it, which made it so much worse. It was almost as if he knew I’d go, but gave it his best try.

I thought about this all day while I sat at my desk and worked. I like my job, it felt like I was in the right place, but seeing myself through his eyes made me wonder. I never questioned working out of the home, but it seems like he might be.

I knew separation issues would come and it was a minor version of what can be painful tantrums for most moms, but I don't want to forget what I saw in his eyes this morning. It's a good reminder to constantly evaluate if you're doing the right things for yourself and your family. I still think that I am, even if he can't see it right now.

Lunch Budget: When Simple Math Makes Me Feel Like a Fool

This summer was a hectic one and grocery shopping and lunch making became somewhat impossible. When we got home from Wisconsin on Sunday afternoon, we took a quick walk over to our Treasure Island to grab something for dinner and I noticed a few choice Boar's Head meats and cheeses on sale for 1/2 price. This is the week we get back to making our lunches, I thought to myself.

I did the math while I waited at the counter: A lunch out is roughly $10. I work in the office three days a week, Matt is in the office five days a week. If we each eat lunch out on those days it's about $80/week. The math is like a slap in the face, especially when you factor in the yogurt parfaits I often grab in the morning along with my coffee, which is another $6 or so. All together I figure we're spending $100/week on coffee, grab and go breakfasts, and lunches. That quickly becomes $400 each month.

I picked up a 1/2 pound each of chicken, ham, and cheddar cheese, which cost me about $8 total. Not too shabby considering you usually have to pay $10/pound for Boar's Head. I bought yogurt to bring to the office for $3. A loaf of bread and other lunch snacks added about $10 and I dusted off my travel mug for home brewed coffee. So, we're looking at about $21/week. No more than $100 a month, even with a cup of coffee here and there.

My goal is to stay on top of lunches and get back to my meal planning as fall approaches. If you need a good exercise to give you and your budget a swift kick in the butt, I suggest you start with your lunch.

Yahoo! and Shingles

This morning I woke out of a restful sleep to the sound of "Oh (insert curse word of choice), it's 5:15. Your cab is here!" Sure was. The cab waiting to pick me up and then fellow blogger Kim and then take us to O'Hare for our 7:10 flight. (This is am, people, let's keep that in mind.) In record speed I ran around the house to pull everything together. For once in my life I had packed the night before and laid everything else out on the kitchen table. Thankfully.

So, why did I catch a flight this morning? Well, here I am now laying on a most comfortable bed at the Four Seasons in Palo Alto, California where I'm attending the Yahoo! Motherboard Summit. Aren't they nice?

This is the first day in about two months that I haven't had a schedule and multiple places to be. I never thought it was possible. And I need this. I really do. 'Cuz, I have shingles. (I'm not contagious, I cleared travel with the doctor, so save the lectures.)

As I previously thought, shingles are not an "old person" thing. So, while this might be a little T.M.I. for some people, I feel like I'm doing you all a favor in case you start to get these symptoms. It took a second opinion to get mine diagnosed. The first doctor told me I had a skin irritation. (I imagine my insurance company should get their money back and I'd like my $20 co-pay back, please.)

Anyway, remember that wee little problem I have with stretching myself a little bit too thin and overbooking any calendar I can get my hands on? Yeah, well, it came back to bite me hard in the hip (the location of my shingles outbreak). Friends and husband alike have told me it's a wake up call. Hopefully it's not as abrupt as this morning's...

But, seriously, I'm listening. I have a couple of hours before the cocktail reception and instead of heading to the bar, which would be my normal next step, I'm closing the shades and my eyes. The doctor prescribed rest, so I might as well listen. For once.... Especially considering I got the diagnosis last night on my way to Ravinia to see Swell Season and celebrate the upcoming wedding of my two most favorite sailors! Totally worth dismissing his advice on that one, though. I stand by that choice.

How NOT to Start Your Day

It’s been a crazy couple of weeks with lots of time at work, shower and bachelorette party stuff, some crappy personal stuff, and Hannemaniac Home Renovation 2010. It dawned on me just how bad things have gotten this morning when I encountered the following issues:

1. Matt left for work at 5:30 am. He’s been really busy with work, but since mine has been more pressing, he is finally playing make-up. Oh, and Howie woke him up at 3:30 wanting a walk. Poor guy.

2. W woke up before I had a chance to take a shower, so I “pretended” I didn’t know he was awake and jumped in quickly while he was still contained in his crib, where I was fairly confident he sat with a dirty diaper.

3. While in the shower I found the hotel sized bottle of shampoo I’ve been using to be empty, so had to use W’s California Baby Shampoo and Body Wash.

4. I’m a stress-(non)eater, which means that none of my pants currently fit me. (I’m still too big for my pre-kid pants, yet to small for my post-kid pants.) I’ve been getting by with saggy butt pants, but somehow this morning they looked like clown pants. I finally found a back-up pair of pants with a home-made hem job.

5. W started screaming “milk, milk” at the top of his lungs. We didn’t have any whole milk for the little man. And the skim milk had an expiration date of May 30th. Not OK for him to drink, however OK for me to use in my (absolutely must have it) coffee this morning. I was willing to risk food poisoning.

6. After a quick scan of the bills I realized that I paid COMed for both their bill and our COMcast bill last month. How did I realize this? The NASTY letter from Comcast threatening to switch off my service. Looks like we’ve paid off our electricity for the next couple of months. (Note to self: Look into AT&T. Really, Comcast? One missed payment and you threaten to shut off service? I know it was my fault, but it’s a bit dramatic.)

7. While walking out to the car this morning, I had to pass a tray of sad looking flowers and herbs that are still waiting to be planted in some pots. I’ve been planting every chance I get over the weekends, but it’s only been an hour here and there.

Please tell me how good my hair looks if you see me today.

... And Then I Rethink This Whole Working Thing

Setting: William's room, Wednesday morning, 6:30 am

William has just woken up and we go in to greet him. The following is the conversation I had with him (yes, he's 20 months old):

"Good morning, baby! Did you have a good sleep?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"Did you have good dreams?"

"Yeah."

"What did you dream about?"

"Papa."

"What was he doing?"

"Cleaning leaves."

"Did you dream of anything else?"

"Nana."

"What was she doing?"

"Cleaning bushes."

"Did you dream about Mommy and Daddy?"

"Yeah."

"What were we doing?"

"Hiding."

And just like that my working mom heart shed a tear.

Crime and Punishment - William Style

Crime: Staying up until (gasp) after 11:00 pm gorging on Dexter. (Just finished the first disc of Season 2 - Feels different from Season 1, not necessarily in a good way.)

Punishment: 1:00 am wake up call from a certain toddler insistent on joining us in bed, followed by three hours of kicking, hitting, and hair pulling, until his 4:00 am decision that he needed to "See Howie" and 45 minutes of wrestling to get off the bed until we finally gave in and let him tear out of the room. FAKE walking down the hall followed (no kidding, he marched in place) to see if we would chase. We did.

No trial. No jury. This is my kid's idea of justice, I guess. Not a fan. I can't believe that the crime warrants such a harsh punishment.

Lessons on a Rainy Morning

Dear Lisa,

I know you're new to this whole train commute thing, so you get a little wiggle room on this one. However, your morning performance was pitiful. You must take weather seriously if you intend to make it through the winter. A rainy day like this is not to be taken lightly.

Here are some lessons for you to keep in mind moving forward:

1. When you're watching the news in the morning, LISTEN to your weatherman and RETAIN the information he shares.

2. The weather does not stay the same as it is when you leave the house in the morning. Just because it isn't raining at that moment doesn't mean it won't be raining later.

3. Rain = Umbrella. Come on now, this is a basic one. You have plenty of umbrellas in your umbrella holder by the front door. A hood is not the same thing.

4. Rain = Rain boots. You have two pairs sitting in your closet. Your running shoes will thank you next time, as will your feet.

5. Wearing "dry clean only" pants the morning after you get them back from the dry cleaner is never a good idea on a rainy day.

6. Switch leather purse for one of the array of other more responsible choices in your closet. You owe Michael Kors an apology.

7. Wear your contacts on a rainy day. You looked like a cooped up serial killer when you ordered your latte over foggy, wet glasses this morning.

Please take this advice seriously. Winter is a moment away and you've got months of this ahead of you. Buy yourself a new hat now (you need one).

Sincerely,
Chicago Weather

Every Now and Then You Step in Poop (Sometimes Even in Your House)

This morning I was rushing in a towel from the bathroom to the kitchen to grab my coffee to the guest bedroom/my dressing room when.... "What the hell?!?!"

I stepped in a tiny, pea sized soft matter. It squished between my toes and I instinctively pulled up my foot and shoved my fingers to feel what it was, looked at my fingers to see it was brown, and then of course had to do the sniff test. What the???? Poop? In the hallway? I screamed.

Matt came running as I gagged and wildly looked around for the rest of it, as this was a pretty small piece of what I could only imagine was a bigger problem. Whose could it be? W had a nasty diaper this morning that I vividly remember changing, but it stayed contained. Howie! Matt grabbed him and did a thorough search, coming up with nothing. Nothing between the paws, nothing stuck to the tail. I washed my foot and hand, so I could inspect the floor. Again, nothing. No sign of where poop may have previously been hiding. A bunch of nothing.

Matt had one foot out the door to catch the train. I had about 10 more minutes to blow dry my hair before the Grannanny showed to give me a lift to the train. So, I was left with only one option: Lock myself (and the boy) in the bathroom for some hair drying. There was no time for me to wash down the floors. In retrospect, I probably could have been late for work, but it just didn't seem like a real option. "Oh, sorry I'm late, I was searching for invisible, mystery poop."

Lucky, lucky us... The floors were wiped down by the best mom in the world (not me, my own) during W's morning nap. So, now we just live in wonder and fear of when the poop will strike again... And whose poop it was anyway.

...And Then There Are The Mornings You Spill A Bowl of Grease on Your Leg...

Scene: A small kitchen with really old appliances. A mother runs around the kitchen in heels and dress clothes. A grandmother sits next to a high chair feeding a one year-old child. The mother is running late and motions to grab the travel mugs. She yells to her husband in the other room.

Mother

Do you want coffee for the road?

Husband

No.

Mother mutters to herself, decides against coffee for both of them. Husband walks into the kitchen and puts on his jacket. He has a hurried look about him as he checks the clock hanging on the wall and then the digital clock on the oven.

Mother notices the bowl of grease from the meatloaf Grandma made the night before. Mother doesn't care for meatloaf or most other baked meats. Grandma made it as a treat for the Husband, since the Mother was working late the night before. Mother motions to the bowl.

Mother

I don't want this to sit out all day.

Mother is hurried, tips the bowl in the slightest way to see if the grease has hardened. Meanwhile, she wants to gag. The grease breaks and pours out onto the leg of her pants and her shoe and all over the kitchen floor. Mother and Husband are already running 15 minutes late to leave for work.

Scene ends.

"Super Mom's" Normal Tuesday Morning

The person behind the idea of "Super Mom" is an ass. This is the normal morning of a full time working super mom: (Ok, so maybe it's been my morning)

12:00 am - William wakes up. I think he might be cold and decide he can share our bed. He spends the next five hours flopping around the bed, searching for his pacifier, and sleeping in insane positions. I spend that time watching him.

5:30 am - Wake up with kink in my neck from sleeping around child.

5:45 am - Notice I somehow sprouted a fantastic looking blemish between my brows over night. Awesome.

6:30 am - I go to put on my pants. (The nice pair for the meeting for which I should really be wearing a suit.) HUGE hole in the back pocket area. Freak out ensues. Not sure who to blame... Dry cleaner, Banana Republic, the junk in my trunk?

6:50 am - Put on back-up pants that are a little too short and a little too faded to be acceptable.

7:00 am - Put on intended jacket and find that the security tag from Nordstrom is still strongly attached. Luckily, back-up jacket works just fine.

7:15 am - Leave the house 15 minutes late without breakfast or lunches, because we have no groceries.

7:20 am - Realize cell phone is still charging AT HOME.

For the record, this is not intended to be a "poor me post." Instead, I wanted to document what a real morning is like when you're barely keeping your head above water.

To all the moms out there who put too much pressure on themselves to live up to the "Super Mom" ideal: DON'T. IT'S NOT WORTH IT!

It's hypocritical for me to say this, because I fall into this trap every minute of every day. But, I figure the more of us who are honest about what we're really going through, the easier it is to laugh at ourselves (after crying alone in the bathroom). Right?