I’ve been back at work now for five weeks. While I was on maternity leave I never forgot for a single moment just how tough the whole balancing act is– getting a break from it was so nice. But now, for better or for worse, I’m right back in the thick of it.
- I’ve been a Mother-With-A-Career for four years now and I still feel like I’m just barely getting by with this whole work-family balancing act. Balancing act?! I don’t personally know anyone who is actually *balancing* it. And that (lack of models of it) is a big problem in and of itself. I have no clue how to do this well. And so it goes.
- I will say, though, that the past five weeks have been the best yet of the past four. And there is one reason why. One word: MARGIE. Oh. My. God. It is sooooo goooooood. Granted, we’re surly still in some sort of honeymoon period — and I have no illusions that it will last forever (flaws in the whole thing will surely be revealed down the road). But right now… Oh. My. God. She has single-handedly changed my life for the much, much better. In fact, I am sorta starting to think of it as life “Pre Margie” vs. life “With Margie.” Dear Lord, please don’t ever let her leave us. #1 all three kids are bonding with her so nicely and coming to love her so much, and vice versa. Meera has yet to cry when I leave her to go to work. And when Margie goes home at the end of the day Kyle and Owen hug and kiss her like they aren’t going to see her ever again (even though she’ll be back the next day). We do “high/low” at dinner each night (going around the table, every person has to say a ‘high’ and a ‘low’ of their day), and each day this week at least one of the boys have said that their ‘high’ was “When Margie was here” and their ‘low’ was “When Margie went home.” #2 she holds the homestead together while we’re away each day. And she holds it together much, much better than when/if we are actually home without her (i.e., the weekends)! We come home after work to a clean, happy, centered household. She has taken over our life. In a good way. And she runs the house like a finely tuned, well oiled, smoothly functioning machine (which is a lot more than I can say for my own house-running abilities). I cannot get over it. Seriously. Braydon and I both admitted to each other last night that we feel like we’re going to cry if we think about it too much. It is a deep deep deep sense of relief. #3 somehow, miraculously I believe, we’re on the same wavelength. She ‘gets’ what we’re tying to do, and she’s right on board. My only concern is that it just continues to send up red flags because it feel too good to be true. #4 Yet again, that old lesson has been re-learned by me, like it has been over and over and over again. I shoulda listened to my mother. She told me years ago, before we even brought the boys home, that we needed a Nanny (with a capital “N”). She knew we needed a Margie and she has brought it up with me repeatedly over the years. Did I listen? No. Bad girl I am. I should have listened. And now I have listened, and of course, MY MOTHER WAS RIGHT. #5 Still, though… I am glad to have had four years “Pre Margie” because it helps me to appreciate this now, and it helps me to know what other kinds of arrangements actually feel like. There are pro’s and con’s to them all. And I’m glad to know, first-hand, the in’s and out’s of some of them. Plus, wonderful people like Alex would not have been in the boys’ life had we done the full blown Nanny route years ago.
- By far the hardest part of the whole equation continues to be getting dinner on the table at the end of the day. When I get home after work K & O are happy to see me. But M is thrilled to see me. She jumps, squeals, laughs, claps, smiles-smiles-smiles, rubs her face all over mine, and squeezes me tight. She wants to be held by me. And only me. Braydon will not do. She’ll cry if I give her to him. She wants to be held by me. Understandably. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love it. There’s nothing better in the world than coming home to that. And I want to hold her. But it is very hard to hold her and make dinner — especially since dinner needs to be on the table in 30 minutes or less from the time I walk in the door. Getting dinner made, at all, is a major feat. But getting dinner made, while trying to hold a bouncing baby girl (literally, bouncing in delight), is nearly impossible. Somehow we’re eating, but it is crazy-hard. That is the hardest part. And yet, I wouldn’t change it for the world either… because there is nothing like coming home to that baby girl jumping to get into my arms. Thank heaven for this little girl.
- This morning, while we were all getting ready for work/school, I found Kyle sucking his thumb and staring out the window. I got down on my knees next to him and whispered, “What are you thinking Ky Ky?” He looked at me, and said, with his thumb still partially in his mouth, “I don’t like Margie days.” Trying to appear calm and relaxed (while my heart started to BLEED), I said, “Why not?” He said, “Because I just like Mommy days.” O.k. then. 1,000 daggers through the heart would be preferable. Just go ahead and rip my heart right out of my chest. Heaven help me.
- Valentines Day. O.k., that is a whole other holiday when you’ve got young kids in school. It takes the romance right out of it, that’s for sure. At least for a working mom. Let me tell you. This week, on top of everything else, I needed to somehow accomplish the whole V-Day thing. Which includes making valentines for all their classmates. Given that they are in separate classrooms, and teachers need valentines too, we’re talking 34 valentines right there. Plus a few to put in the mail to their non-school friends (who they expressed a sincere need to send valentines to this year). And yes, we choose to send them to a Waldorf school. Yes, that is our choice. Yes. But… it means handmade valentines. Nothing less will do. So it goes. And then there’s the note sent home on Monday: “Please remember that on Friday we’ll be having our party, and each child should bring a treat to share.” Again, yes, Waldorf is our choice. So, I shouldn’t complain about the work involved. And I try not to. But that translates to: Mama Baking Goodies From Scratch. Store-bought cookies are not an option. Per Kyle’s request (read: begging and pleading), I agreed to make muffins. So, I just took 4 dozen mini muffins out of the oven. Blueberry Muffins for Kyle’s class. Chocolate Chip Muffins for Owen’s class. From scratch made from ingredients even a Waldorf school will appreciate. Most importantly, though, K & O will appreciate it. Much more than most 4 year olds would. It is so worth it. And so… call me crazy… but, I do it. I will admit, though, that at the end of a long work day… it is just a lot.
- At the end of the day, I’m happy. And I’m also exhausted. EXHAUSTED.
Anyhoo… What’s posted here is just the very tippity tip tip tip of the iceberg. But like all good working mothers, I don’t have nearly enough time to do this subject justice. And that, my friends, is a big part of the problem– those of us actually doing it (in particular, I believe, the career&mommy gig ~~ building-maintaining-strategizing-a-full-blown-long-term-career while also being a real-intimately-involved-emotionally-connected-truly-present Mom), well, those of us actually doing it simply don’t have the time or energy to give this subject the time and energy it would require to convey its true complexities to others. And so it goes.
Miss Meera Fashionista~~
Here she is sporting Auntie Sabrina’s Christmas present
Here she is again, stylin’ in her Christmas present from Auntie Stina
I don’t write much about my boys’ food intake. It isn’t that I purposefully avoid the subject, it is just that the subject is kinda boring for me at this point. The subject, of course, being: the huge amount of food that they consume. I mean, it is just always the same old thing: “Oh good golly!!?! They eat sooooooooo much!!!!!!!” It has been like this from Day One with them. They have always eaten a ton. Especially now, with Meera being about the age K & O were when we brought them home, the comparisons are always looming. She eats very well, and she eats plenty (just look at any photo of her and you’ll see that she’s not lacking in the chub department, that’s for sure!!!)… but compared to Kyle and Owen… she eats like a bird. At first, for obvious reasons (i.e., malnourishment), our baby boys just couldn’t get enough. They’d eat and eat and eat and then pound down a full 8 ounce bottle of formula like it was nothing. People who witnessed it would be astounded, just watching in shock as these tiny babies ate more than you could imagine. I remember calling our pediatrician when the boys were about 11 or 12 months old (one of many phone calls about their food intake), asking her, “How many bananas should I let Kyle eat per day?” She ended up giving no limit (that was her philosophy and it worked well for us), and neither boy ever once ate so much that they threw up (although that was astounding and shocking in itself if you could see how much they’d sometimes ingest). But there were a few months there, from about age 11 months to about age 15 months, when I was buying bananas in bulk each week because Kyle was averaging 3-4 bananas per day. And Owen wasn’t too far behind him. You do the math. (That’s a lot of bananas.) Anyhoo…. they are now 4 1/2 years old, and, although I’m quite accustomed to the insanity that is the food-production-project for them (note: I am the sole food provider/preparer for the family, Braydon does none of it. Also note: I do not do laundry. ever.), there are still times when even I am truly astounded. Last night was one of them. During dinner, Kyle singlehandedly ate an entire 16 oz bag of baby carrots (with nothing on them, simply steamed). That is in addition to a nice size piece of fish, a huge helping of rice, and some spinach salad. The rest of us ate not one carrot. He ate all of them. He had seconds, thirds, fourths, and then finally just pulled the serving bowl over next to his plate and started just eating them straight from the bowl. Until none were left. And Owen… last night Owen ate so much fish I kinda felt sick to my stomach just thinking about it. I know how much I bought (a full 2 pounds), and I know how much Kyle, Braydon, and I ate (I dished it out). Thus, I know that Owen ate at least 3/4 pound (if not a full pound) of fresh tilapia. Granted, I prepared it his favorite way (blackened, with lemon butter sauce). But still. That is a lot of fish for a little boy. Especially when you consider he had thirds on the spinach salad, ate a mound of rice, and a big chunk of bread heavily slathered with butter. Seriously, whenever I get on this topic, I always circle ’round to the same thing: If they eat like this now, what on earth will they be eating when they’re 16??? (and more to the point: how on earth will I keep up with them from the kitchen?!??) But don’t get me wrong– The Kyle-Owen-food-production-project is a problem that I love. There is nothing better than watching my boys devour a meal that I just cooked up at the end of a day. I’m pretty sure I’ll feel the same way as I do now when they’re 16.
…We’re Out For A Walk Together…
A couple of months ago we finally caved in to the whole sticker-chart-parenting-rage and started to experiment with it here in the J-M home (the only other time I’ve blogged about it was
here). Like every other parent in the universe already knew, we have discovered that the system works pretty darn well. We never did this for potty training or anything else, but now we’re dabbling in using it for bedtime when need be (i.e., you get to choose a sticker and stick it on your chart the next morning if you go to bed nicely with no tantrums, no goofing-off-with-your-brother, no calling-us-back-into-your-room-a-million-times-after-we’ve-tucked-you-in, etc.). We call them “earning charts” and K & O are way into “earning it.” What they are working toward earning is determined by them (within reason, of course— “going on a big jet plane to Africa,” for example [which they have suggested multiple times as what they want to work toward earning], is
not within reason. A couple weeks ago we started new Bedtime Earning Charts and the agreed upon thing-to-earn was a trip to Giggleberry Fair (
click here; the boys absolutely
love this place and we very rarely go). We set it up so that they’d have to do good behavior at bedtime for 13 bedtimes in a row to earn Giggleberry Fair. 13 in a row is
by far their longest earning charts yet. And truth be told, I never in a million years imagined they’d actually be able to pull it off. Especially not both of them (Owen has always, always his whole, whole life
hated bedtime and has forever pulled every trick in the book to get out of it). But sure enough, would you believe it?!, they both did it. 13 bedtimes in a row of near-perfect behavior. Sweet, smooth, easy, peasy bedtimes for 13 nights in a row. SHOCKER! So, we had to follow through. Giggleberry Fair it was. We went on Saturday. Icing on the cake was that we invited Zoe (and her moms) too — which just made the whole thing even more fun for K & O (and definitely more fun for H & B). We love getting together with the Petsch family… even in a hyper-over-stimulating-environment and even when you feel like you might puke (from riding the merry-go-round a hundred times in a row). Now, seriously, that’s good friends! They always get to their blog before we do (oh how we love you L & S!!! you are
such better bloggers than us!!!!!!!) — you can read their post
here. Here are a few photos from our camera:
Our beloved Alex came last night to babysit so that Braydon and I could go out for dinner for a long overdue date night. We try to do date nights pretty regularly — and always have — but for the past few months Little Miss has been cramping our style. So we were especially happy to get out together alone. And K & O were very happy to have Alex come last night. When I first announced the plan to them, however, they were pretty perturbed. They were annoyed that Mommy and Papi were going out to a restaurant without them (since they love restaurants so much). I explained (like I always do) that Mommy and Papi love each other very much and we need to be able to have some “alone time” together every once in a while, just us, nobody else. “Plus,” I said, “we’re going to a Grown Up Restaurant.” I had never tagged that part on the end before and it caught their attention. “Oh!” said Kyle, “a Grown Up Restaurant? Only grown ups are allowed there?” “That’s right,” I said. “They don’t let kids go there?” asked Owen. “Not really,” I said. (We were going to our favorite wintertime date night restaurant, Blue, and it genuinely is not a kid-friendly restaurant). This concept — of a “Grown Up Restaurant” — seemed to make the whole idea of us going out without them more palatable. Pondering this new idea, Kyle asked, “What do they have there?” [meaning what kind of food] But before I could answer he quickly jumped in, “Wait, I know, it is a caffeine restaurant, right Mama? They have caffeine there.” Owen chimed right in: “Yes! That’s right Kyle, it is a caffeine restaurant! Caffeine and wine. Right Mommy?” I said, “Yup!” And that was it. From that point on there was no complaining about us going out without them. By the time Alex arrived they were waving us out the door to go get our caffeine and wine. ;0
- a “headbird” = a quarter (as in the coin; not ‘heads or tails’ but ‘head or bird’)
- a “flying sausage” = a flying saucer (as in the type of sled)
- a “barracuda” = a big wave (as in ‘the big kahuna’)
- an “invitation party” = a party that you get invited to via a formal, on-paper, invitation
- a “big crunch” = a big chunk of parmesan cheese (note: parmesan cheese only; if speaking of any other type of cheese –or any other of anything for that matter– they say, a “big chunk”)
- “lickitty” (as in, “Let’s make it lickitty!”) = to stir up your ice cream until it is liquidy/soupy
(for a couple examples of other posts on K & O’s twinspeak click here and here)
I’ve been back at work now for five weeks. While I was on maternity leave I never forgot for a single moment just how tough the whole balancing act is– getting a break from it was so nice. But now, for better or for worse, I’m right back in the thick of it.
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