Back to Work

Last weekend, my hubby and I were on our way to a cocktail party. We had escaped from our house, were all dressed up, and without a care in the world. It felt so good to not think or talk, to just let go of the stresses of the day and enjoy some much needed peace and quiet. About half way there, my hubby turned to me and said, “So have you thought about going back to work?”

Umm…SAY WHAT?!?!

The fact is I had thought about it – but in a very abstract way. Like “this is something one day I will have to think about.” Well, this day is apparently upon us and for me it feels like it sort of came out of nowhere. Was I really at the point already that I was done having kids and that my youngest would be in school in a few short years? It was hard to believe that it was the next phase already. It’s true…time does fly.

But does it? Because it seems like forever ago that I got dressed up and went to work. And it seems like being home raising kids has been an extremely long run. I guess what has come up so fast for me is this next phase of MY life…the phase where it comes back around to ME. I spent almost 30 years of my life in school, at work, and in various jobs. I spent a lot of time, money, and effort trying to get good grades, a good job, a good promotion, etc…But the whole time I knew when I had kids, I wanted to stay home with them. What is obvious is that I just didn’t think past that point. And here I am.

So, to answer my hubby’s question, yes, I’ve thought about it. But a lot has changed these last 7 years. Motherhood has changed me. And even though I still have dreams and aspirations, my professional needs have changed and there’s a lot more to consider about going back to work. I know I want a family-friendly schedule, I want to feel good about the work I’m doing, and I want to bring home some decent coin. And right now, that’s about all I know. In a perfect world, there are two scenarios. One is that www.morethanamom.com will become a source of income and I can manage it on my own schedule and write whenever inspiration strikes. The other is that when #3 gets on the bus for the very first time, I will come home, open the Sunday paper for the1st time in years, and see the following classified ad:

“Part-time state lobbyist for non-profit organization. Must have a family of your own and attend all their sporting events and school holiday parties. Make your own hours between 10am and 2pm. Paid lunch: liquid lunches encouraged. Absurdly high salary because you are a mother and society owes you a debt of gratitude. Paid vacation every summer and the month of December because we know how hard moms work to pull off a magical Christmas. Should have a slight recollection of state departments and their functions, but are not expected to remember who any of the political players are. We actually think it would be charming if you had trouble remembering anything you learned in graduate school. Upon hire, you will receive a complimentary wardrobe and certificates for mandatory weekly facials, massages, and nail appointments. No need to write a resume or cover letter because we know you forgot how to do this. Just send us a hand-written sticky note with your phone number on it or, if you’re technologically advanced, a text message from your flip-phone. Join our company and you’ll change the world.”

Philly Girl

My sister-in-law sent me this today, and I just had to share. It’s a special shout-out out to all my Philly girls!

THE DIFFERENCE IF YOU MARRY A PHILLY GIRL

The first man married a woman from North Carolina . He told her that she was to do the dishes and house cleaning… It took a couple of days, but on the third day, he came home to see a clean house and dishes washed and put away.

The second man married a woman from South Carolina . He gave his wife orders that she was to do all the cleaning, dishes and the cooking. The first day he didn’t see any results, but the next day he saw it was better. By the third day, he saw his house was clean, the dishes were done and there was a huge dinner on the table.

The third man married a girl from Philly. He ordered her to keep the house cleaned, dishes washed, lawn mowed, laundry washed, and hot meals on the table for every meal. He said the first day he didn’t see anything, the second day he didn’t see anything but by the third day, some of the swelling had gone down and he could see a little out of his left eye, and his arm was healed enough that he could fix himself a sandwich and load the dishwasher. He still has some difficulty when he pees . . .

Erma

Hi all! I didn’t have time this week to do much blogging ~ I decided instead to spend the time on technical website stuff, which has proven to be quite a challenge. But I made some progress (YAY!), and any day now will be ready to transition to my new site. More info to follow…

Today I want to share a poem from one of my favorite authors, Erma Bombeck. I first learned of her in college, but it wasn’t until my mom recently gave me an old copy of “Motherhood: The Second Oldest Profession” (written in 1984) that my appreciation for her grew. Even though I consider myself a feminist, I LOVE her politically incorrect advice on mothering and housekeeping. It is wickedly funny and amazingly still relevant in today‘s world. You will love her honest take on the “profession” and how timeless her words are. I plan to pour over it again soon and share some of my favorite excerpts along the way. In the meantime, here is a more serious poem she wrote in 1979.

If I Had My Life To Live Over

by Erma Bombeck

If I had my life to live over, I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the ‘good’ living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television – and more while watching life.

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren’t there for the day.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, “Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.”

There would have been more “I love you’s”.. More “I’m sorrys” …

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute… look at it and really see it … live it…and never give it back.

Scrapfest 2010

I just got back from a great weekend away with some girlfriends for our annual scrapbooking trip. I know…sounds like a wild time!!! Granted, it’s not a crazy, action-packed adventure, but we have lots of fun, while relaxing and doing something productive. And while I scrap very infrequently (in fact, the last time was last year’s trip), I really do enjoy the crafty aspect of it…it’s so nice to be alone with your thoughts and do something creative. And we’ve all agreed that because we’re moms, going a few hours away to scrap is necessary, because if we were close to home, we would be feeling the tug of family life the whole time.

Some of the women spend the entire weekend scrapping. Some spend very little of the weekend scrapping (you know who you are!). Me? I spend a little time scrapping, a little time staring at the table hoping for inspiration, a little time sleeping-in, a little time drinking wine, and a little time thinking about my next meal. But what I do a lot of on this trip is laughing, letting go of stress, and reflecting on my life.

I think whenever you’re away from home, you gain a bit of perspective on your life and see things in a more positive way. This is especially true if you — like me — rarely get away. You tend to see things a bit more clearly – like you’re on the outside looking in. And you also spend lots of time talking to other moms who have great ideas to share. And all this clarity and insight translates into me coming home with LOTS of ideas plus the energy to set it in motion. (Scary combination!) This is simply because I have time to think when I’m away, and when you don’t have little people constantly talking at you, you have the freedom to let your mind wander a bit. If you ask me, it’s the ultimate in personal freedom.

The weekend is just so therapeutic — not only because it’s at the beach (the benefits of which cannot be overestimated) but because there is no agenda and no one to answer to. No one cares where you are or how you’re spending your time. You can make the weekend anything you want – and even change your mind a thousand times while you’re there. On this trip, I found myself reflecting a lot on all the good things I have in my life. At the age of 35, I have a great marriage (almost 10 years!), 3 beautiful kids, a comfortable house in a safe neighborhood…and I also have a faint memory of going to school and having a pretty good career. (That was me, right?)

So, today I’ve decided to celebrate 35 and all it’s glory. I am old enough to be a wife, a mom, and a homeowner, and I’m young enough to live it with gusto. It’s a great age, if you ask me, and I’m so glad to be 35. Why pick today to celebreate 35? Because tomorrow I’ll be 36.

$5

My valentine and I went to a great dinner at Le Bar Lyonnais in Philadelphia this weekend. If you have the chance to go – DO IT! It is located in the downstairs of Le Bec-Fin (which I’ve never been) and is a really cozy place for a drink or incredibly yummy meal. It‘s the same kitchen/chef as upstairs, but more reasonably priced. Although we usually love going to the local tavern for beers and sandwiches, there is just something about a quiet dinner at nice restaurant. It was just so…how do I say this…civilized! And since it was in the city, I dressed up (even wore fishnets for the first time in my life!) and felt right at home. It’s nice to have reason every now and then to dress up beside church, ya know?

We shared a filet mignon and crabcake and I had a few gin & tonics (my new favorite beverage – not sure whether to thank or curse my friend who turned me on to them!) But at $12 a pop it definitely made me yearn for my college days where $5 would get you completely hammered. With $1 bottles, $1 shots of Red Death, and a whole lot of flirting, $5 was all a girl needed…

Speaking of $5, I remember “tapping Mac” in college before going out (at 11:00 – can you imagine going OUT at 11pm these days!?!?) and not having a clue how much was in my checking account. First, I would request $20 and get the message “insufficient funds.” So…I would try for $15, then $10, then $5. You knew it was bad when you got that same message at $5. Then again, why was I crossing my fingers hoping the money was there? Shouldn’t I have actually KNOWN how much was there? It’s a checking account for god’s sake! I think I seriously thought that as long as I had checks left, I was OK. I think the credit card companies that park themselves at the front door of the Student Center on your first day of college smelled my blood when I pulled up in my ‘84 Chevy Cavalier.

But we’re all grown up now and can occasionally even afford way overpriced drinks!   The good news is that we require far less than we used to to get the job done.;-)

Oldies But Goodies

Child #1 came home from school a few weeks ago excited about her upcoming Valentine’s Day concert at school. I asked her what she was going to sing, and she said, “one of the songs is ABC by the Jackson Five…do you know that song, Mom?” Uh, yeah honey, I think I’ve heard of it. Too funny! Well, her concert was a few days ago, and hearing 80 first graders sing The Jackson Five was really adorable.

It got me thinking of all the great musicians of previous decades. In the 50s and 60s, there was Elvis, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Sinatra, Louis Armstrong, Johnnie Mathis…to name a few. And in the 70s and 80s, we had Eric Clapton, Pink Floyd, Queen, Abba, The Cure, Def Leppard, Led Zeppelin, Elton John, and The Commodores. Even the 90s produced big artists like Madonna, Billy Joel, Bon Jovi, and U2.

It’s easy for me to rattle off great groups of the past, but what current day musicians are we going to be telling our grandkids about years from now? I guess modern day music just doesn’t do it for me quite like the “oldies” do – and by the way, do you even know that they were playing JACK AND DIANE on the Oldies Station the other day!?!?!?!?!?! Absurd.

It just doesn‘t seem like there are many total standouts nowadays (not just popular, but actually talented)…maybe it’s just that my tastes haven’t evolved as quickly as music has. Please stop me NOW before I declare “they just don’t make ‘em like they used to!”

OK, so I‘m thinking maybe Beyonce? Foo Fighters? I’m seriously at a lost! I would love to hear your top 5 musicians/bands of this decade. In the meantime – enjoy this awesome parody of a song we all know and love from 1983. Yes, that was the same year your mom slept outside of Kmart all night to get you a Cabbage Patch Kid.

Glad I’m a Girl

As I write this my darling hubby is outside in the pitch dark shoveling more than two feet of snow off our long driveway and front walk. He has been out there for almost two hours. At what point should I be worried that he is stuck in a snowdrift? He was also out there this afternoon for an hour. I either naively underestimate the magnitude of the shoveling job, or he is out there drinking beers in the shed. Either way it is freaking cold out there…and dark…and cold…and dark. Add this to my list of Reasons That I Am Glad I Am Not Male. Also on my list is jock itch, the inability to create social opportunities, and having to shave your cheeks. Me? I am inside snuggled under a warm blanket, watching Oprah on the DVR, and eating ice cream (ok, it’s fat free – but still…).

My husband has had a similar list about women since I met him. He had his way before I created mine. And his is much longer than mine. And he is way more verbal about his. Every few weeks I hear him say “another reason I’m glad I’m not a woman.” He has said it after watching me deliver each of our kids, upon watching my nipples repeatedly stretch across the room while pumping, and when he hears talk about waxing, bras, ob/gyn exams, the glass ceiling, the “bitch” label for women in the workforce who are strong, ambitious and outspoken…and the list goes on.

But I think the fact that his list is so much longer than mine validates the fact that we women are the stronger sex. We go through a hell of a lot more than they do – and they know it. Even if they don’t say it often, they know it. Just ask your husband, brother, or father if they’d rather be a woman – you’ll get your answer. So let’s be happy and proud of all we do, and instead of thinking we got the raw deal, think of all the things we get to experience that men never will…the deep female friendships we have, crying like a banshee during movies like Terms of Endearment (OMG – remember when Debra Winger was saying goodbye to her sons!!! I’m crying just typing it!), and most importantly, the feeling of carrying, delivering, and feeding a baby. After that, the physical connection we moms have with our children just continues. My kids are like a drug to me – when I smell them, hug them, or kiss them, they are intoxicating to me. Although I don’t know first hand, I’m pretty sure the smell of my son is more powerful than acid, crack, and heroin combined. And I’m sure I’m not the only mom who feels that way.

In truth, my husband is in awe of all women and all that we are capable of. Like many men, he is a huge admirer, advocate, and supporter of women. He just wouldn’t want to be one. I can understand that. So…I’ll let him have his long list. I’ll let him think women have it rough and men are better off. We all know the truth.J

WasteNot~WantNot

Hi Moms! Hope you all had a great weekend. We basically stayed put but enjoyed lots of crafts, playing in the snow, and going out for pizza with some good friends. I even had a fun cooking session with my husband! He made guacamole, which I have to admit was one of the best I’ve had. Yum!

Anyway – wanted to share this idea that’s been brewing in my head for the past few years…I think I’ve decided it’s time to set it in motion! The idea is start a database/registry called WasteNot~WantNot (WiN~WiN) to match those looking to donate items with those organizations needing the items. I have felt for a long time — and I’ve talked to a few of you who feel the same — that it is often difficult to find places to take your unwanted stuff – we either end up throwing it out or placing it in a big dumpster in a parking lot somewhere and hoping for the best. It should be easier to find good homes for our unwanted items and I think we would all feel better knowing our items are going to those who need them. We don’t all have money to donate to the many causes, but we all have crap!

To create the registry I am planning to solicit requests for specific items from local nonprofits, including church groups, schools, and womens’ shelters, homeless shelters, hospitals, etc. I will then post the items on my website www.morethanamom.com and when someone has items to donate (books, clothes, toys, women’s supplies, shoes, household items, old Tupperware, mattresses, furniture, ETC.) – they can check the list and know where to take the items. For example, CHOP has a need for books for their waiting rooms – you have a bag of books your kids have outgrown but would rather not throw them in the recycling bin…you get the idea. It could also work for services needed: Let’s say a women’s shelter has a little boy living there who needs a math tutor once a week and you are a teacher who wants to help.

I was hesitant in the past to start WiN~WiN b/c I wondered how to make it work without actually collecting the items (which I have NO interest in) and without starting a real non-profit (which I would LOVE to do…eventually). But I had a thought recently that I could include the list on my website and try it casually for a while. So, I’ve decided to set the wheels in motion, and will start calling nonprofits soon to get their “wish lists.” My goal is to try to make it as easy as possible for donors to give.

Maybe some of you have advice or recommendations? Maybe there are even a few of you who have had a similar “itch” to help those in need and will want to join me on this fun venture. If so, let me know! I would much prefer to share in this cause with friends and I have a feeling that it will be as much (if not more) of a blessing to us than those we help. And I think this is a great (easy) way to involve the kids – they can come with me if I want to gather a wish list in person and they can also help to find homes for unwanted items. When I got done a long-winded explanation of my idea to my daughter, she exclaimed, “It’s like a fun matching game!”

And for all of you – let me know if you ever hear of a need for items and I’ll add the items to the list. And I’ll be sure to let you all know when WiN~WiN is up and running and hopefully you’ll be able to find the perfect home for your stuff!

I’ll leave you with this touching quote I found by Charlotte Gray: “Becoming a mother makes you the mother of all children. From now on each wounded, abandoned, frightened child is yours. You live in the suffering mothers of every race and creed and weep with them. You long to comfort all who are desolate.”

Falling Apart

I’m going to stop apologizing when there’s a delay between blogs – you probably know by now it’s only because I’m sick, one of the kids is sick, I am crazy busy, or on a tropical island with my husband. HAH! Anyway, this particular delay can be blamed on a stomach bug that has been making its way through our house. Seriously, why do kids always start vomiting in the middle of the night when you are dead asleep and you have to spring out of bed, calm your child, clean up all the puke, tuck them and yourself back in bed, and do it all again 20 minutes later? We did this 7 times with #1 last night from 2:30-5:30am. UGH. Anyway – I am sooo exhausted, so I will probably just ramble on and on until I pass out…J

So anyway, I was talking to a friend today and she was telling me how chronically sleep deprived she was, feeling disheveled, stressed out, not like herself. She said she is a disaster and losing control of her life and doesn’t even recognize herself anymore. I feel so badly for her – and I think we all can relate to this feeling like we’re falling apart on some level – whether it’s just a bit or a lot. Some days/months/years are better than others…For instance, this time last year, I had all three kids at home 90% of the time, a new house, a new neighborhood. The winter was long and cold, the kids were sick a lot, and we had very little help. Both my parents were working full-time, I knew barely anyone in town, and our finances were tight. Sounds fun, right? Things are much better now, thank god – but the memory is still fresh and I am very empathetic towards other moms who have similar experiences.

Speaking of falling apart, it seems like yesterday that I was annoyed to find the first gray hair on my head. HA! Along with many more gray hairs, so many other fun discoveries have popped up along the way. If only the U.S. government provided all women on their 35th birthday a personal anestitician, colorist, trainer, live-in OB/GYN, and a therapist to deal with all it all. OK, I’m being dramatic to make a point – but when did this happen? Childbearing and childrearing definitely speeds the aging process…I think it’s like dog years: one mommy year equals 3 regular years.

Or maybe we’re just so busy as moms that we don’t notice the small signs of aging. All of a sudden, we look in the mirror and wonder when this wrinkle/laugh line/sunspot appeared. This happened to me recently. I looked at myself in the mirror – I mean REALLY looked (not the quick boogie check in the rearview mirror) – and I saw my mother. Not that that’s a bad thing – my mother is beautiful and I hope I look like her one day. The key words being ONE DAY. Certainly not now!?!?

It’s especially hard to figure out how to age gracefully if you’re someone who occasionally picks up US Weekly in the check-out line (not naming names) and sees photos of Heidi Klum – I mean, does that woman have ANY wear and tear!?!? My god – she’s been a baby machine the last 4 years and her body’s got no signs of use. We must remember that some women are just genetically gifted. I don’t know anyone in real life like this. I mean, I know plenty of women who are blessed in the genes department – but no one THAT blessed. Dear Lord.

And then there’s the discussions that we all seem to be having about advanced maternal age, mammograms, depression, knee problems, hair loss, gravity-affected parts, thyroid problems, perimenapause, etc…isn’t all this stuff the stuff that happens to our moms??? It’s hard to believe I’m old enough to have these kinds of conversations. But it’s reality, and I’m cool with that. Things aren’t perfect, but I am really comfortable in my own skin and want to keep it that way. I am not interested in an extreme makeover or a nip and tuck. OK, maybe if someone was offering free Botox in front of the preschool tomorrow I‘d be the first in line…but who wouldn’t?!?! It’s hard to strike a balance between working hard to keep yourself looking and feeling young, and just accepting and embracing what your momma gave ya.

But for me, it’s not really about looks. Really, it’s not. How do I say this…ummm…it’s just that…I don’t want to die. There, I guess it really is that simple. I can’t help but see all these little things as reminders of the aging process and if I’m aging that means that I’m getting closer to dying. And I don’t want to leave my children. I know that sounds harsh, and I’m only 35, but being a mother makes you think about your life in a different way. You understand. I just really love my life and my family, and I want to live until I’m about 150 years old to see how it all plays out. I’d love to grace the pages of Ripley’s Believe It Or Not. I am not someone who seems content with reaching the age of 80 and then going in their sleep. My dad always said, “the second I get like that (insert any old person trait here), just take me out back and shoot me.” No – not me! Pump me full of chemicals and keep me around. I promise I won’t be any trouble!

But there’s good news in all of this. If you’ve ever wondered if this aging process is reversible, I think it is. Because I feel a heck of a lot better this year than I did this year, and I’m hoping that each year keeps getting better and better. If it doesn’t, at least I’m getting closer and closer to that age that everyone talks about where you’ve got it all figured out and you don’t give a crap what anyone else thinks. One popular opinion is that is happens in your 40s, the other popular opinion is that it happens in your 50s. Either way, I can feel that I’m on my way…to more sleep, less stress, more organization, more “me” time, and a truer sense of who I am and what I enjoy.

We moms have so much more wisdom and meaning in our lives than we did before we had kids. Yes, we had less “issues” and less to worry about, but we were naïve and had yet to realize the best things in life. And now, even though we sometimes feel like we’re falling apart…maybe that’s just what needs to happen so that we can use all our new-found awareness to begin to put the pieces back together exactly the way we want them.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

The Things We’ve Handed Down

Blog Notes: Although I much prefer the authenticity of using our real names, I’ve decided to refer to my kids as #1 (oldest – girl), #2 (middle – boy) and #3 (youngest – girl). Can’t be too careful online these days…thanks for understanding!

Also – a note to subscribers, I noticed that when my blog is emailed, it contains weird symbols that make it choppy and difficult to read. Not sure why – but if you just click on the link at the bottom of the email, you will be able to read it a lot easier. THANKS! Read on for my latest entry…

____________________

As I got off the elliptical yesterday, my legs were rubber and I collapsed like a dead body onto my basement floor. As I lay there huffing and puffing (and pretending to stretch) a song came onto my iPod that I hadn’t heard in a long time: Marc Cohn’s “The Things We’ve Handed Down.” If you don’t know the song I’m talking about, download it now. Hell, even if you know the song, listen to it again. It’s just that good. Here’s a cover version I found on YouTube – it’s really good but can’t compare to Marc Cohn’s version, which I couldn’t figure out how to share with you. Legally, that is.

So, as I lay there with the song blaring in my ears, I was suddenly doing the ugly cry. And not just because of the realization of how out of shape I was, but because the words of the song rang particularly true for me at that moment. You see, last week, I took #1 to her allergy/asthma appt. which only served to rub in that she does, in fact, still have allergies and asthma. These twice-a-year appointments are particularly unsatisfying because we have yet to receive anything resembling good news in the 6+ years we’ve been going.

Then, a few days ago, I took #1 to the eye doctor only to hear that she needs glasses. And while my husband and I always (since we met) laughed that our children were destined to be “blind and hairy” – it still hurts. She’s seems too young and pure to have a deficit. And the responsibility of glasses seems too much for a 7-year-old to bear.

And just when you think it couldn’t get worse, the very next day she had a routine dentist appointment and as we were walking out the dentist jokingly said to me, “you‘d better start saving now because there is NO WAY all her teeth are going to fit in that little mouth.” Seriously??? Is she also growing another set of breasts, I mean C’MON!!! But in true fashion, she is Over-the-Moon excited about getting her new glasses. Once again, she is teaching a lesson about how to turn lemons into lemonade.

It’s just that we want our kids to have the best of us – not the worst of us. And even though we are not surprised to learn they have inherited a particular feature/personality trait from us, we are still hopeful that the bad things will somehow escape them and the good things will be even better in their hands. But we can’t choose what they get, and in the midst of our frustration about what bad things we’ve handed down, we need to rejoice in the good things they got from us.

Because despite these challenges, #1 is one of the most well-adjusted, confident kids I know. She has the perfect personality to deal with this crappy stuff. So, I guess along with handing down the allergies, poor vision, and yes, the excess hair, we also must have handed down the her graceful ability to handle it in stride.

Each child is a brand new combination of the best of us, the worst of us, and everything in between. I could give birth to 20 kids and they would all be different, but each one of them would be undeniably me. #1: endlessly chatty and slow as molasses– but happy, confident, and thoughtful. #2: impatient and non-stop — but smart, creative, and generous. #3: sassy and stubborn — but loving, affectionate and oozing charm.

The Things We’ve Handed Down??? Yep, that sounds about right. And while they may not always be so grateful for the way that they were made, I wouldn’t want it any other way.