Who's The Boss?

I hate bad drivers

For all of those returning to work after the long holiday weekend, I urge you to read my piece on considerate commuting.  Apparently all that turkey and stuffing has caused a nuclear meltdown in the area of your brain that controls safe driving. 

Swirving around pedestrians in a crosswalk is not OK.

Tailgating cars already going over the speed limit is not OK.

Reading a newspaper while driving is not OK.

And for peet's sake, it is against the law in Calfornia to be talking on the cell phone without a hands-free device.  Looking around for a cop so you can drop the phone into your lap is not OK. 

Sick days

Since becoming a mother, I've had my fair share of sick days.  Usually, those sick days were spent taking care of someone else.  Even if I caught the same bug, there was no rest for me.  The family still needed to eat, the dishes in the sink still needed to be cleaned, and a certain little boy who played in the mud still needed to be bathed.  Sick days were for the weak. 

Of course, as soon as you tell the universe that you can handle being sick then the universe has to open a big of can of whoop ass and whoop your ass.   Lesson learned, oh powerful universe.  Now please go bug someone else.

I spent the majority of this past weekend on the couch.  Moaning, complaining, and coughing.  The fever made my body ache.  The sinus infection made my head hurt.  Going through an entire box of tissues in 4 hours left my nose red and raw.   Having to make my own chicken noodle soup added insult to injury.

Darius, on the other hand, was thrilled to have a sick momma.  He got to watch more than his fair share of TV.  I didn't make him pick up his room or make his bed.  And he had plenty of unsupervised time to decorate with the toilet and sink with an entire tube of toothpaste.  It was a pain to clean-up but the toilet has never smelled so minty fresh. 

I guess I should be glad that one room in this house is clean. 

And cavity-free.

Yes, he's a finance guy

Neville  during our latest discussion about whether or not to have another baby....

"Just think, if we have two kids then we can both have a tax deduction. We'll each claim one kid. Then we can both be Head of Household and get a bigger tax break."

Just be thankful you don't have to see me in real life

I'm sick.

Last night we attended the Thanksgiving dinner at Darius' preschool.  I offered to help set-up because, yet again, only one mom volunteered to help.  After three hours around sixty children, I could practically feel my body fighting off a cold.

Those kids are adorable; but, they are adorable little germ-infested children.  Like shooting fish in a barrell, it was inevitable that some virus would find its way over to me. 

The symptoms started mid-way through the children's performances.  At first, I blamed it on the over-active heater blasting in the banquet room.  By the time we arrived home, I could already feel the sinus pressure building up.

This morning, I headed into the office to be one of those people.  You know the type: co-workers that cough and blow their nose and complain about coming down with a cold while the working in close proximity to other people.  Yes, right now I am one of those inconsiderate co-workers that really should go home to rest instead of exposing a bunch of innocent people to the sick bug.  I know, I know... I'm a terrible person and getting lots of bad kharma for being at work while sick.

In my defense, I didn't think this cold was going to be all that bad.  When I walked in the office at 8:30 this morning, I could still breath through my nose and wasn't tempted to bang my head open to relieve some of this sinus pressure.  With each passing minute, I am getting worse.  In fact as I type this, I am contemplating shoving tissues straight up my nostrils so that I don't have to keep blowing my nose. 

I keep saying to myself "After this email, I'll pack up and work from home."  Or "When it's 1:00, I'll go home."  Or "I'll just get some soup from the cafeteria and then I'll feel better."

I know a flu bug has been going around.  Thank god, there isn't any vomitting or diarrhea involved.  I promise that if I do puke, I will leave the office. Just after that one last email...

Miss or Mrs?

Even though we are not legally married, Neville and I often refer to each other as husband or wife.  We never correct friends or co-workers when they assume that a couple with a child and a mortgage would be a married couple.  For all intentions and purposes, we are married.  We just chose to not get legally married. 

As a career woman, those who assume that we are married don't think twice about me having my "maiden name."  And that's okay.  I don't mind when people assume we are married.  I don't mind being called Neville's wife.  I love Neville as a wife loves her husband. 

But there is one part of this whole married, but unmarried lifestyle that I never considered.

What will my child's friends call me? 

Am I Miss Robyn?  Am I Miss Roark?  Am I Mrs. <Insert Neville's Last Name>?

Darius has his father's last name just as I have my father's last name.   But since Neville and I aren't married, and all of our close friends/family know that, I wonder what I am supposed to be called?

I guess, technically, it would be Miss Robyn or Miss Roark. Ms. Roark?

With my godson and goddaughter, I have always been Auntie Robyn.  With the pediatrician, I am Mrs. <Neville's Last Name>.   At work... well, who calls anybody by anything other than a first name at work these days?

Nowadays, it isn't uncommon for women to keep their maiden name when they do get married.  Even if Neville and I had chosen a traditional path, I still would have kept my last name.  It's my name.  It's a part of my identity.  And, yes, the feminist in me thinks the whole name-changing thing is stupid when you consider the origins of the tradition. 

So even if we were married, I still would be struggling with my formal name.

And for those of you who think that children no longer need to use the formal Mr/Miss/Ms/Mrs anymore, just this week I've been called with a Miss or Mrs in by five separate families.

We haven't touched the subject with Darius about the fact that we are not legally married.  How would a four year old know what that means anyways?  He has two parents who live together, love each other, and love him.  Yes, he knows what it means to get married.  He's attended more than one wedding and it outnumbered by girls who want to play house at preschool.  I think he's just assumed that we got married before he was born.   Which is somewhat true.  After all, we were in a committed relationship before he was born. 

When I hung out with a mom-friend this week, her daughter kept calling me "Darius' Mom."  I'm thinking that's what I'll stick with until I figure this whole thing out.

Motherhood is a pain

I apparently was living under rock this weekend when a firestorm of Moms Who Twitter attacked Motrin and their latest ad campaign about motherhood.  Or more specifically about how "baby wearing" is pain in the... back. 

If you were also living under a rock, you can watch the ad on YouTube.  Thank heavens for YouTube - Motrin has already pulled the ad online.

I've watched the ad a couple of times now.  And for the most part, I get the sarcastic tone of ad.  Sort of reminds me of the weird VW commercials with Brooke Shields.  Alright, I'll agree that it makes babywearers out to be superficial pains and is borderline condescending.  And I'm positive that Motrin and other companies will be taking a closer look at the power of social media. 

But there was also some truth to the ad.  No, I'm not talking about the part where you are an "official mom" when you "bjorn" your baby.  Motherhood is a pain.

Yes, it's a joy and a miracle and rewarding and blah blah blah.  It's also a life of headaches from listening to all those annoying toys where the batteries just never seen to run out.  It's an eternity of backaches from carrying a 22lb toddler.   I swear I have done permanent damage to my knees from all those pony rides on our hardwood floors. 

I'm sure that there were many who were pleased with Motrin's action to issue an apology and remove the ad.   While I always think that saying sorry is the best policy, I'm not sure that Motrin needed to pull the ad entirely from online and print (in their apology, they did state that getting the print ads out of circulation would take time).  Once the weekend had passed, the Twittering Moms were moving on to new tweets and there even was a the start of a backlash against those who attacked Motrin.  Was the ad in bad taste?  Yes.  Was the "offense" blown out of proportion?  Yes, I think so.

I hope that the debacle with Motrin's ad proves the power of online social media.  I would think that advertisers and marketers will now take more time to reach out to their target audience.  I would also think that mommybloggers would learn to say something more constructive than "That's offense, I'm never buying Motrin again!" 

If social media is powerful, if mommybloggers are powerful... then let's act like leaders.  Let's engage in a conversation with businesses and marketing agencies.  And let's not get our feelings hurt so darn easily.

Because, really, all this noise is just giving me a headache.

Honoring my Grandfathers on Veteran's Day

Both of my Grandfathers were military men.  My mom's dad (Grandpa) was a career Navy man and served in the Korean War.  My dad's dad (Grandaddy) was an MP in the Marines, got Malaria twice while stationed overseas, and was the toughest man I've ever known.    Both served in WWII.

I always loved to listen to my Grandfathers tell stories of their days serving for our country.  Grandpa was a poor farm boy from West Virginia who lied about his age to enlist in the Navy.  Never knowing when his next meal would come, he thought the Navy was the best thing that ever happened to him with 3 hot meals a day and a place to rest.  What more could a poor, hungry teenager ask for?  He loved the Navy and served for more than 20 years.

Grandaddy would tell stories about when he would have to go into bars after curfew and pull out all the drunk Marines.  He was tough as nails. In fact, he never disciplined his children for fear that he would forget they were just kids and not insubordinate Marines.

Both of my Grandfathers have passed.  But their stories remain alive in their wives and their children.  Neither ever served on the front lines of war, but knew many of the men who did.  They both talked somberly of those that gave up their lives for the freedom of this nation and the freedom of those on foreign soil. 

As a child listening to their stories of war, I am sure that they left out the gory details and talked of romantic memories about their military days.  As an adult, I realize now all of the details that they didn't share, stories that would never be re-told, the demons and nightmares being omitted to save a little girl from the real atrocities of war.

On Veteran's Day, I light a candle to my Grandpa and my Grandaddy.  I light another for the men currently serving in the war on Iraq.  And I light a third for Peace. 

May one day our world never know the horrors of war. 

A Working Mom's Rant about "Parent Participation"

My son’s preschool had a large Harvest Festival during school hours last week.  It’s two action-packed hours filled with a petting zoo, a pumpkin patch, face painting, cookie decorating, a bean-bag toss, and (the kids’ favorite) a jumpy house.  The festival is probably the biggest event for the school and relies largely on parent volunteers.  But this year, the festival nearly didn’t happen.  Less than one week from the event, not a single parent had signed up to volunteer. 

The Director sent out an email signed from “your child.”  The email was written in the voice of a child talking about how much they love the festival and how it may be canceled this year since no parents had signed up.  Even when the Director pulled the guilt-card and gave an ultimatum to cancel the event, by Friday only half of the slots were filled.  Pull at my working mother heart strings!  I feel guilty enough about sending him to preschool all day long three days a week.  Now I have to contend with knowing that if I don’t volunteer that the beloved Harvest Festival will be canceled.

I put my name down for TWO slots that very evening when I picked him up from school.

My son goes to a preschool located on-campus at a top-notch university in Silicon Valley.  Because the tuition is subsidized by the University, the school requires each family to volunteer five hours per quarter. Roughly that equals 1 hour every two weeks. If you are married, that would mean that each parent would only need to volunteer 1 hour per month.  For schools that require volunteer hours, I’d say that the requirement is nothing.  So why is that parents have a hard time stepping up?

Last year, I joined their Board of Directors to design a new website and some other marketing material for the school.  The time I’ve spent on that project (going on 15 months) has given me a free pass for volunteer hours for two years.  I don’t feel like I should have to volunteer.  Frankly, I’ve already put in my required hours plus some.  Where are the other parents and why aren’t they pulling their weight?

Here I am a full-time working mother who is juggling way too much.  I bust my butt at work to ensure no one ever puts me on the “mommy-track.”  I volunteer at my son’s school to redesign a website - something I’m not totally skilled at but no one else was willing to do.  And now I have to pull even more time out of my schedule, during work hours, to paint the adorable little faces of the children at my son’s school; knowing full well that there are families that haven’t signed up for their fair share. 

I know that I have 13 years of education for Darius that is staring at me in the face.  I'm not sure that I can handle 13 years of picking up the slack for lazy parents.  Please tell me this gets better.

This is How You Connect with Mommy Bloggers

On Sunday night, I attended a special event for Silicon Valley Mom's Group.  Yes, I've said it before and I'll say it again, SV Moms is the BEST community to be included in (and no, it isn't just because of the fun events and the awesome swag).  This event was put on by LeapFrog. 

Except for one request to get us to check out their new community site, there was no product pushing.  Sure, LeapFrog had a slew of products in the back of room - everything from Fridge Farm to Leapsters to Tag Reading System to the brand new Didj.  But that wasn't the focus of the night.  LeapFrog recognized that they way to reach moms (and we all know we control the spending in nearly every household) was to SHOW us WHY LeapFrog CARES about EDUCATION.

Instead, LeapFrog invited Dr. Anne Cunnigham lead a discussion on the importance of reading.  I twittered some of the big points of the night, but the gist of the talk was about exposing your child to rich language to improve their reading skills.  What that means for pre-K kids and younger is reading at least 30 minutes a day with a variety of books.  And if you're thinking "there is no way my three year old will still for 30 minutes." No worries.  Dr. Cunnigham suggested books on CD in the car or background at home, reading to them while the kids play, and getting older kids to read to the younger kids (double whammy, people!).  If you have older kids, read to your kids  one or two grade-levels ahead of them.  That way, they continue to get exposed to new words. 

We had a great discussion talking about everything from kids who started reading early, to bilingual kids who seem to be falling behind their single-language friends (don't worry, they will catch up), to the importance of the 3rd grade.  I didn't even know the 3rd grade was important.  But apparently (and this was backed-up  by the two 3rd grade teachers in the room), Third Grade is when reading curriculum moves away from phonics and focuses on vocabulary.  Children who haven't been exposed to a diverse vocabulary can easily fall behind.  As early as the fourth grade, children basically decide if they will be lifeline readers based on their confidence level in reading.  So the more you expose your kids to rich vocabulary, the better readers they will become. 

And this is where LeapFrog comes into play.  Without ever pushing a product down our throats, we learned about the importance of reading.   LeapFrog is committed to creating products that challenge kids to read in a fun, interactive way.  For me, the night wasn't about the products.  It wasn't about LeapFrog.  It was about getting a group of moms together to discuss a topic that is important to us (educating our children)... and just so happens to be important to LeapFrog. 

At the end of the discussion, LeapFrog passed out goody bags for all the moms with toys appropriate to the ages of our children.  How cool is that?  I asked more questions about products and was more willing to give my opinion on products we already owned (like the fab Word Whammer) because I knew that the night wasn't about selling us on LeapFrog.  It was about showing us LeapFrog's passion for getting children exposed to reading skills. 

When I arrived home, I was giddy with excitement about the new LeapFrog toys that "Santa" will be bringing to our house this year.  I know that Darius is going to love them.  Now if only I can hold out until then.  We were a LeapFrog family before this event, but we are for sure die-hard supporters now. 

Have you ever been Sexually Harassed?

I'm over at Work It, Mom today talking about sexual harassment in the workplace.  A manager at the company I work for was recently fired for harassing one of his employees. 

I’m willing to put money on it that, if asked, nearly every working woman could cite an experience of being harassed in the workplace.  Whether it was the creepy guy who always started at your breasts, or the drunken co-worker who tried to take things to another level at the company holiday party, or the man who thought that keeping a calendar of scantily-clad women on his desk was perfectly acceptable.

Come on over and share your experiences.  

The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

One of my childhood friends sent me this photo: 

That's me, Katie, and Shannon on our first day of seventh grade.  I am the one on the left with big permed bob.  My hair was awesome, people.  AWESOME.  And I am wearing an Espirit skort. I have on Sam and Libby ballet flats too.

That's Katie's mom's hatchback next to me.  We were so frickin' cool that we didn't have to walk to school. 

I remember feeling like such a grown-up on the first day of Junior High.  I also remember feeling incredibly nervous.  I would be making new friends and have a different teacher for every class.  I remember being so nervous about finding my way around the school - what if I got lost and, god forbid, was tardy? The goodie-two-shoes in me was practically getting an ulcer from the stress of the passing period.  Then there was gym class where you had to change into your PE uniform in front of other girls.  So embarrassing. 

Seventh grade was the year that I had my first boyfriend.  Had my first real kiss.  Attended my first school dance.  Seventh grade was the year that I had my first fight with my best friend. It was the year that I got to go on my first "group date" - my dad let me and five other friends see a movie while he watched a different one.  Seventh grade was also the year that I took Journalism and found a love for writing.  

In some ways, seventh grade feels like a lifetime ago.  And in others, it feels like it was just yesterday.  I look at my life now: successful career, good mother, home owner, responsible citizen.  And yet there is still a part of me that feels like that young adolescent.  Hoping to fit in, wanting to make friends, unsure of myself, questioning my every move. 

Some say childhood is the best time of your life.  Others say that you spend your while life trying to get over your childhood.  For me, I think it is a little of both. 

Except now, I wouldn't be caught dead in a skort. 

Are you on Twitter?

If you haven't joined Twitter, you should.  Don't ask me what it is for... because let's be serious, Twitter isn't solving any of the world's problems.  But it is incredibly fun and entertaining.  You are making connections.  And as we all know, networking is everything.

So join and then follow me.  I am whostheboss.  Once you'll follow me, you'll get to read my thrilling updates like...

"My son just picked out the Naughty Nurse costume for me. so wrong"

"It's sad when dressing up means putting on your 'nice jeans.'"

"I'm sick of being the only person in this house who is capable of buying milk or flushing the toilet."

"i think the guy on the other side of my cube has fallen asleep and is snoring. Or he just breathes really f'ing loud"

Okay, so it isn't my best work.  But still, follow me.  You won't regret it.

 

 

 

It's a New Day, It's a New Dawn... And I'm feelin' good

Okay, so I may have been a little cranky yesterday.  It's just that stupid people bug me.  The person that I am dealing with just doesn't grasp the scope of the project.  If I explained you the scope, I'm pretty sure you would get it... but I guarantee that you would probably keel over from boredom when I started talking in my Business Operations, Strategic Initiatives, Project Manager voice. 

After a three hour meeting, we were able to all get on the same page.  I'm concerned that the project is so simple that folks are having a hard time wrapping their heads around the limited scope.  The project could be so much more.  But it isn't.  It isn't glamorous.  We aren't curing cancer over here. 

Today I woke up with a determination to get through my list of things to do.  I have major documentation to complete (in hopes that I won't have to keep repeating myself), open items that still need to be resolved, and a handful of meetings that may be important to others but today will be more of a distraction than anything else.  I'm not gonna let it get me down.  My frustrated day reminded me of the importance of setting clear and precise goals.  As much as I'd like to blame the dude for being dumb, I have to take responsibility too. 

It's my job to make sure that everyone is on-board in a project and getting their tasks done.  Kinda reminds me of parenting.  Only this way I'm telling 40 year old what to do.

Working Mom's Pop Quiz

When you are assigned an insane amount of projects to manage, can't even keep one of them under control for two days because of repeatting the scope ump-teen million times to the one idiot who just doesn't get it, all the while making the mistake of volunteering to lead holiday crafts at your son's preschool, do you...

a.) Spend an entire morning documenting the shit out of a very simple process that even a monkey could understand? 

b.) Reserve a conference room just so that you have an escape.  And then lock yourself in there for an hour so you can blog and catch up on personal email?

c.) Take a deep breath and explain the process one. more. time.  Only this time with a smile and a kirtsy?

d.) Forget about work and spend two hours  researching "easy" kid crafts?

First Impressions

Last week I traveled past California's capital to the satellite office of my new manager.  I am staying in the same organization I was in before, but have a new department, role, and manager.  So basically, the only thing that has stayed the same is the limited contact I have with my VP.  Comforting, right?

My new manager is also a working mom.  She has been with the company for over a decade and seems to really know her stuff.  My only issue so far is that she may be forgetting that I am a total newbie at this company.  In fact, the closest person to me in terms of years of service, has been here for 6 years.  In other words, everyone else has connections, knows the ropes, and knows what to expect.  On the one hand, it means that I have a knowledgable team that can help me get up to speed.  On the other hand, it means that I have a major learning curve ahead.

I have a month to get up to speed on the SIX projects I will be managing.  Only two of those projects have any structure.  The rest I get to run with, and hopefully, hit of the park when they are all raging successes.  A month isn't very long considering that I still struggle with just creating a damn expense report at this company.  In fact, it took me two hours just to navigate on the travel website and book one single night at a hotel.  I swear I am normally not this slow. 

I have a lot to learn, a lot of connections to make, and make a great impression in not a lot of time. 

It's going to be a busy month. 

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder, Right?

Since Darius was born, I've taken about a dozen business trips.  If you do the math, that's just three trips a year.  Nothing compared to what some corporate citizens have to endure in their careers.  Because my travel requirements are light, I think fondly of all my business trips.  Even the sucky ones in lame places with long lay-overs in airports and terrible hotel room service.  I think fondly of them because when I returned there was a smiling baby, then a toddler who would run to me with open arms, and now a little boy that shouts to the heavens "MOM-MA" when he sees me again. 

I've learned important lessons on parenting from these business trips.  Like you probably don't want to get your kid in the habit of getting a really cool present every single time you leave.   And if you really want to get your kid something, make sure you plan it out so you don't spend $19.95 on a "I love Denver" shirt in the airport.

I've learned to not talk about a trip too far in advance of the actual trip.  Or you may end up with an hysterical toddler sobbing into his chicken and rice at the dinner table.   I've learned to never ever tell your child that maybe one day he will get to go with you on a trip because that child will remember that promise and mention every single time you ever talk about a business trip again.

And I've learned to never ask your spouse what he made for dinner while you were away.  Because, really, you don't want to know that your kid hasn't had a fruit or vegetable in a week and is probably only still alive thanks to hotdogs and canned chili. 

I left for another business trip this morning.  It's a short two day jaunt to an office three hours away.  When you think of business trips this one should be easy.  Except I am still learning the toughest lesson of all...

How can I stop my heart from breaking a little every time I say good-bye?

Bonding around the... computer

Darius and his daddy huddled around my computer looking for paper airplane designs on the internet this morning.  With both of them still in PJ’s, looking up websites dedicated to paper airplanes, it was fun to watch them. 

I know the day will come when Darius doesn’t want to use his mother’s computer and we invest in one for the family.  When I have to perform random checks on his “friends” on Facebook or MySpace.  When I decide where the computer resides, what sort of protection software I install, and talk about online predators. 

As Darius slowly types the letters on the keyboard for a search, I watch my child learn the power of information.  All brought forth by my computer, a flat screen monitor, and a wireless mouse.

The computer in this house will change, but for now I’m happy it’s a new form of father-son bonding.  Even if paper airplanes are flown inside.

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Formulas for Success

Last Thursday night I attended the New Formulas for Success event hosted by Mommy Track'd and Flexperience.  The night included an impressive panel of executive working mothers.  Driving up to San Francisco with blogging mamas, Stacy and Linsey, the night was feeling like a productive Mom's Night Out. 

I attended the event last year and found the key take-away then was there is no single formula for success.  The panelists all had customized their careers, child-care situations, and their juggle to find what worked for their family.  Last year, I realized that strategies for being a successful employee and a successful mother were not cookie-cutter.  YOU have to figure out what is going to work for YOU and then make it work. 

With an all executive panel this year, I was hoping for more great take-aways that I could apply in my continuing struggle for work-life balance.  With working mothers who are CEO's, VP's in High-Tech, General Counsels, and Producers in the Film Industry... well simply put, I had high expectations.  I hoped these women would talk about how they continued to be successful in their careers after having children.  I hoped they would discuss the strategies they use to keep their sanity besides hiring a great nanny or having a housekeeper.

This year's take-away was about incorporating discipline in your working life and your professional life.  I think these women determined the little things that were important and threw out those that didn't have meaning to them.  For example, one of the panelists gave up the idea of having a family dinner.  Instead she has the nanny feed her kids before she gets home and then has quality time with them till bedtime.  I could see how these women had made trade-offs to have raise children while having an executive career. 

However, I got the feeling that not a single one of them was willing to sacrifice their career just because they were mothers.  I came to the conclusion that not that much changed, career-wise, when these women became mothers.  Sure they now left the office every day at 6pm, but they all admitted to being online for hours after the kids went to bed.  As the CEO of BabyCenter said "balance is bunk."  It's hard to hear that the way to be successful is to not get much sleep.

I found a lot of what the panel to say a bit on the side of cliche.  Each one of the women said that being a working mother was harder than they had imagined.  Well, no shit!  Being a mother is hard work.  Let alone working full-time.  We all know it is hard work. I walked away from the evening feeling disappointed that we didn't dive deeper into what these incredibly successful women actually do to be successful.

(Sort of) Standing Up for Sarah Palin

I'm over at Silicon Valley Mom's Blog today.

All this talk about whether or not Sarah Palin can be an effective leader while mothering small children has really rocked me to the core.

"Can we stop judging Palin for being a working mother?  Really, the fact that she has children, even young children, has nothing to do with anything.  I know that she herself has brought up her working-mother status in numerous speeches.  I think that being a working mother is nothing to be ashamed of.  I’m glad that she has brought to the surface the juggle that all working parents face each and every day."

Before the feminists try to take away my shiny degree and ban me from the club, I want to make it clear that I am not supporting McCain-Palin.  However, I am shocked and appalled that women who have fought so hard against sexism in the workplace have turned around to question whether Palin can handle the job as a working mom.  Do I smell hypocrisy?

I fully expect a long list of commentors who do not agree.  So come on over and add your two cents.

Falling in Love... Again

The last two weeks have been rather euphoric.  Neville and I both have realized how much we really love each other and just how very close we were to losing everything we have built together.  We been holding hands more.  We kiss each other good-bye in the morning.  It sounds petty, I know.  But I am coming to realize that life is just as much about the little things as it is about the big ones. Something as little as a touch on the cheek or sitting next to each other on the couch or a smiling at one another from across the room.  Those are the things that I took for granted.  Things that I didn't think were important.  Things that I didn't really notice until it just stopped for a long time.

It's a wonderful feeling to fall in love with the person you already love the most. 

Thinking about Working from Home?

I've started a short series over at Work It Mom about how to make the pitch to your manager about working from home. 

Last week we discussed whether or not working from home is right for you.

"You may have thought of your office as distracting with water cooler conversations, idle hallway chit-chat, and that one person who always manages to burn the popcorn in the breakroom microwave.  But just wait until you are at home with a whole new set of distractions."

This week we are discussing how to prepare the pitch to your manager. 

"When I decided that I wanted to work from home at least one day a week, I did not prepare a pitch.  I barged into my manager’s office one day and simply blurted out that I was going to work from home every Friday.  While my manager did agree that having an established day in which I was home was acceptable, I would not recommend this approach.   My tactic was unprofessional and while it did work to get me what I wanted, it most likely won’t work for you. "

Come on over and check it out.  If you don't work from home but want the option, you may learn a new strategy.  If you already work from home, come on over and give your sage advice.

The First Day of Work as a Working Mom

I am participating in another workshop of Writing Motherhood.  I am a day late (and probably more than a dollar short), but I just didn't feel like writing yesterday.  So I didn't.  Not much of an excuse, I know. 

First Words and Other Firsts: Open any baby diary and you will find whole pages devoted to firsts: first smile, first words, first friends, first birthday. Why are firsts so significant? Keeping in mind that first experiences do not end with babyhood, write about a first: the first day of kindergarten, the first day of college, the first grandchild. Or simply begin with the writing start “the first time” and write down the first thing that comes to mind.

The most significant first in my life has to be the day we came home from the hospital with Darius. Just 30 hours before my baby was still in my belly.  And now he was a real live baby.  My real live baby.  I still remember laying him down in his bassinet to take my first shower as a mother.  He looked so teeny and so helpless.  I knew that the day in which I would return to work was just around the corner.  But work seemed like an impossibility when leaving my baby for a 15 minute shower was guilt-inducing. 

I did return to work when Darius was twelve weeks old.  Staying home was simply not an option.  I was still a newbie Project Manager and didn't earn what my new Professional Certifications were worth.  I had just bought a townhouse the year prior and didn't have much of a savings to cover the mortgage for more than a couple of months.  Being a working mother would be my reality.

Armed with my super fancy $300 Pump In Style and my laptop bag, I walked back into the office for the first time in nearly four months.  It was surreal to be back in the office.  The feeling reminded me of the first day of elementary school; excitement mixed with trepidation.  I was nervous.  I was ready to get back to work.  I was scared to see how many emails were in my work inbox. 

I remember sitting back in my desk with papers strewn about.  My boss had already warned me that an intern was using my space while I was away.  I guess she forgot to clean-up before my first day.  I picked up the papers into a nice stack and placed it in the back corner of my desk; out of sight and out of mind.  I fired up my laptop and had to think for a moment about my password. 

I got lost in email for a couple of hours.  I trashed every email that was more than a two weeks old.  I figured that the person covering for me had handled it all.  And if he hadn't, well now that people knew I was back I would just get another email from them about the still open issue.  I scheduled a meeting with the person to have a proper handoff.  I needed to know what was still open, how things went, was I returning to total chaos? 

I remember the frantic call from my finance manager about my replacement being in rehab for a coke addiction and only have three days to close the books for month end.  I remember the endless interruptions from co-workers checking in and asking about my darling baby.  I remember the first lunch back to work with one of my dearest friends.  I remember forgetting to pump in the afternoon and feeling like I was going to gush breastmilk like a fire hose during a management meeting at 4:00pm.  I remember getting a blister from wearing heels for the first time in seven months.

But most of all, I remember picking up my sweet little baby at 5:30.  I remember the look on his face when he noticed that I had arrived.  I'll always remember the way he smiled at me and coo'ed.  I'll always remember his sweet smell and kissing him and squeezing him.  I remember putting him to my breast for the first time in nine hours and feeling sweet relief and true bonding. 

I remember feeling grateful that we had both survived the first day back to work. I was officially a working mother.

Things I Love...

This Land's End tote bag.  It's cute, it's durable, and has hidden pockets.  the medium sized one has become my go-to pool bag this summer.  I could use a dozen more in all the different sizes and never get sick of it.

The Cho Show.  Many, many moons before I was a mother I watched a Margaret Cho video with one of my BFFs.  We actually had to stop the DVD more than once because we were laughing so hard we missed more funny parts.  And no, it wasn't the Mary-Jane talking either.  The Cho is funny.  Like pee in your pants funny.  I'm not sure I have the bladder control for a full length Cho DVD now, so I'll settle for the 30-minute Cho Show. Maybe I'll practice those Kegel exercises while I watch.

The Nut Tree Family Park.  We stopped over on our way home from Sacramento and fell in love with this little park.  It's perfect for the 9 and under crowd.  The train ride, mini-roller coaster, and bumper cars kept my son and my 8 yr old niece occupied for hours.  The best part?  The kids passed out from exhaustion for the 2-hr ride home.  With it's affordable price, this will become THE place we stop everytime we visit our Sacramento family.

Dad's House Mojitos.  Okay, for the record I'm not much of a Mojito gal. I'm not a fan of swallowing big chunks of mint.  But when Smiling Mom decided to try out the recipe at a recent play date, I was open.  Now she did have to add an extra splash of club soda to make the drink a little less strong (we were watching kids after all), but the drink was refreshing, tart, and yummy.  I think I'm a converted mojito-lover. 

Finding the Silver Lining

So when I wrote my little post last week about not having my shit together, I wasn't expecting to get a flood of support.  I wasn't excepting offers of playdates, coffee talks, and dinners.  I wasn't expecting my friends, new and old, come to my aid without judgement, without needing to know "the scoop," without strings attached. 

And yet as soon as I hit the publish button on that little post, my world changed.  For one, I was no longer lying about the situation.  I found out that I'm not as good of a liar as I thought I was anyways.  Most of you figured it out.  My "marriage" is in trouble.  Last week we were dangerously flirting with total nuclear meltdown.  I was making plans to separate.

Thanks in major part to my friends who lent a supportive ear, gave advice up the ying yang, and just let me cry.  A lot.  This week, I'm not on the ledge.  Neville and I are going to get professional help for our issues.  And we have re-committed ourselves to working through this.  Together.  We still have all of the problems that we had last week. Except for one.  This week, we are listening to one another.  We are trying to make this all work. We held hands last night for the first time in months. 

I can't ever write about the real problems that Neville and I are facing.  Although, after talking to nearly all of my married friends, I have figured out that what we are facing is what many couples face at some point during their marriage.  We are no different.  I also found out that many couple contemplate divorce or separation.  Why did nobody ever tell me that before?  Perhaps because I never asked.  Perhaps because when the rest of you were having marital problems, I simply shook my head and said "Oh no, not us."  Perhaps because I was never so honest as I am now. 

Last week, I felt the weight of my world on my shoulders.  This week, I am looking only at the silver lining.  We came close to losing everything that we have created over the last nine years.  This week I am grateful that we've held on. 

When life gives you lemons...

The past few of weeks have been hell for me.  H to the E to the double L... HELL.  Something is happening in my personal life that has put me in a psuedo-depression.  I say psuedo because I am not depressed but when something overwhelming happens in my life, I have to shut down a little to process it all.  I'm not depressed, but I certainly am not living life to the fullest.  It's my coping mechanism.  May not be the most healthy, but it works for me.

I've spent more time on my couch in a complete state of couch-potato-ness.  I've been lucky that my professional life has been stable.  It makes it a whole lot easier to be a vegetable when work isn't knocking on your door every minute. 

I can't talk in details about what is so overwhelming.  Remember those little blog boundaries I am trying to create?  Well, if I spilled the beans about this situation then I would be breaking my first boundary: never write about a situation that could destroy real-life relationships.  I have confided in two of my closest friends and they are helping me through this incredibly tough time. 

But I've lied to so many of you when you've asked how I am doing and I've looked you clear in the face and said with a smile "Great."  It's not easy for me to admit my failures.  It's not easy for me to talk about the hard stuff. The stuff that makes you cry.  The stuff that makes you feel less than perfect, less than normal, less than period.

I am on the crux of a major decision.  A major moment.  A life-altering moment.  Where I stand I can see both decisions play out.  And either way, there are winners and losers.  Either way there is hope and heartache. Either way there is pain and relief.  I don't know what to do. 

I've been praying - not something I'm really all that comfortable with.  I've been praying for guidance, for strength, for forgiveness, for love.  I've been praying for answers.  Answers that I know lie within my own heart.  I'm very afraid of the answer.  I'm very afraid that if I dig deep and figure this all out that it won't have the outcome I desire.  I'm afraid that the outcome I desire isn't really what I want.  It's a mess. I am a mess. 

I know that life is messy.  I know that I can't continue to be a couch potato for very much longer. But today, I plan on crawling up on the couch, watching awful soap operas, and thinking about what happens when life give you lemons.

And you know that making lemonade isn't the answer. 

Moving Day

Typically the last part of every acquisition integration is the real estate consolidation.  That's fancy corporate talk for "moving day."  Our old buildings have been put up for sale and the remaining hundred of us at headquarters moved to the building of the parent company.  The building is only a few miles down the road from our old building but it feels totally different.

For one, I can no longer call myself an employee of the acquired company.  The signage everywhere shouts the parent company.  My badge is new.  My desk is new.  My phone number is new. 

And yet I still have an 8-year old monitor on my workstation.  Nice.  Glad to see that flat screens are still only for the elite.  First thing I did today was open a PO for a $119.00 monitor.  I'm think I'm worth it.

Second, the old building had only about a dozen folks on my floor still working.  Half of the floor was previously filled with finance folks - people who almost always get laid off during an acquisition.  Our old building was eerily quiet.  Today in the new building, I came to find that there are a few hundred people on just this floor.  While I love being around the hustle and bustle with real live energy, it also feels like a major distraction.  I cannot stay focused today.  Everytime a door opens or a person walks by, I lose my train of thought. 

Maybe my pretty new monitor will keep me on task.  Otherwise, I'll be breaking out the ear plugs. 

Now if I can only figure out where the bathrooms are then I'll be all set.

What do Mom's talk about on a Mom's Night Out?

Our kids, of course!

Tonight I had a very last minute MNO with Lia, Michelle, and Nanette.  Lia pulled it all together in less than a day and we all eagerly showed up.  After the week I've had, it was so very very very nice to get away from my family. 

We met up in Downtown Campbell and found this little South-Bay city to be rocking.  Apparently the first Friday of every month is THE day to go out if you live in Campbell.  Who knew?

I only felt a little weird being out.  On a Friday Night.  In a bar.  Talking extensively about my kid.  Seriously, I complain all week about not having any time to myself.  And then when I get two hours to spend as I please, what do I do?  Spend it talking about everything but me. 

From here on out, I am starting a new MNO drinking game.  Whenever a mom mentions her kids in a bar, she has to take a shot.  This game could be more dangerous than Quarters. 

I'm buying the first round.  You in?

Mommybloggers and Money

Honestly, I am getting a little sick and tired of the one-sided argument about mommybloggers.  You know the one that goes something like "we are just exploiting are children for a quick buck."  I'm sick of having to explain or justify why I blog. 

While I may get classified as a "mommyblogger," this blog isn't any more about being a mommy than it is about everything else about me.  The blog is just about me.  There is a ton that I do not share.  For one, at her request my mother is off limits.  Secondly, I do think that Neville would skin me alive for some of my posts about our relationship or showing pictures of Darius.  I'm still figuring out where the boundaries are for me.  I've made decisions to not share initimate details of any of my relationships.  I admire bloggers who can write openly about any topic.  But I want to preserve my relationships with my family.  Writing about my loving but dysfunctional extended family would only cause a rift - and I'm not willing to sacrifice my human relationships for a larger audience online.

That said, I like writing online.  I like getting feedback.  I love the connections and friendships that I have made.  I can honestly say that my life is better for blogging.  Will it last?  Will I continue to blog when my son is a teenager?  I don't know.  Hell, I can barely keep pace with what's for dinner tonight.  How could I ever look that far into the future and know what I'll do?

As for the money piece, puh-leeze.  Very few women are making a substantial living on blogging.  Very few.  I have no problems admitting that I make money on blogging.  It's not a lot and not with this site.  If I'm lucky I'll make a $100 this year in ad revenue from this little blog which won't even cover the cost of my domain and my typepad fees.  However, this blog has launched other freelance writing opportunities.  How much do I make with freelance?  Let's just say it covers our monthly trip to Costco.  Considering the amount of time I put into writing compared to the money I'll make for it, I'm making WAY below minimum wage on my writing.

I'm hardly pimping out my son for money.  I will never make in blogging what I make in the high-tech industry in Silicon Valley.  That is not my expectation.  I find it exciting, and totally validating, that blogging can launch other opportunities.  Will I ever ditch my high-paid corporate gig?  Who knows.  I doubt it.  I'm certainly not holding my breath for a million dollar book deal or my life written as a Lifetime Movie. 

And for all you haters that think us "breeders" should stop making any profit from writing about motherhood.  I've only got one word for you.

Jealous?

Under Construction

Today marks the start of the backyard of our dreams.  Okay, not so much the backyard of our dreams. More like the backyard of our budget. 

We are going from a concrete jungle to a patio, some landscaping, grass, and maybe a couple new fruit trees.  The backyard is costing us a small fortune.  Honestly, we could have bought a new car with the amont we are spending on the back.  But right now we have an usuable space.  It isn't safe, it isn't fun, and it certainly isn't pretty.

We have lived in this house for nearly 18 months.  And for all 18 months we haven't been able to use our front yard or the backyard.  It's hard to have to tell your child that he can't play in his own backyard because it isn't safe.  And while we can't afford to complete the front yard this year (we are thinking of putting in fake grass in the front which costs another small fortune), we will finally be able to have an outdoor living space.

I have the head-ache pleasure of working from home during the construction and landscaping.  This just might make me crazy. 

I cannot wait to have a real backyard.  It's Christmas in August. 

Say My Name