My Favorite Thing To Do With My Mommy

My 4yr old made me a banner at school this week for Mother's Day.  It had a sweet hand print, an adorable picture of him and a statement about his favorite thing to do with his mommy.  I was all smiles until I got to the end of it.  "My favorite thing to do with my mommy is watch TV."  WATCH...TV.  WHAT??  Ok, I know one of his teachers asked him the question while he was in the middle of something extremely fun and he likely spouted off the first thing that came to his mind, but this one kind of hurt.  My dear, sweet, eldest son Noah is my best friend.  He cooks dinner with me almost every night, he and I read special big boy books every night after his brother is in bed, I swim in a freezing cold pool with him every Sunday, yesterday I had Master Christopher teach ME a couple of freakin' Tae Kwon Do moves so I could practice with him. I am not a perfect mother, but of all the things I do with him, him choosing TV was not something I immediately understood.  Heck, most of the time I'm reminding him and his brother that they can only watch one or two shows on weekdays, and I'm not even with them while they do it,  I'm finishing working, showering or putting dinner on the table.  But sometimes, if I'm ahead of my game with work or we're eating leftovers or I decide not to shower (ha, sorry, it happens), and most certainly on the weekends when we watch a movie or something as a family, I AM with them while they watch.  Noah and his little brother will take turns cuddling with me under a soft Star Wars blanket and we lay there, quiet, squeezing, hugging, tickling and laughing.  Noah calls me his "cuddle girl" and will give me lots of kisses and will tell me he loves me and that he loves "hangin' out" with his family.  His brother will move him out of the way to have a cuddle-turn and I will always gladly make room in my arms for both.  It is, well, awesome.  We do a lot of fun, quality things together everyday, but 2 and 4yr old boys are rarely quiet and still.  And, really, neither are their mamas.  It occurred to me that he must appreciate a time when I'm not on the move, or talking to (or at) them, a time when his mom is just quiet and still with him.  I can close my eyes in those moments when I am laying with them and feel, truly down deep in my soul, that there's no place I would rather be, nothing that makes me feel quite as full.  I have those moments when I'm watching them play together outside or when we're doing fun,active things together, too.  But the special-ness of a close cuddle on the couch - I get it.  And I realize my ability to cuddle with them in this way won't last forever.  We'll (hopefully) always eat together and play sports and go on fun trips.  But one day, they'll be too big to lay with me on the couch.  They won't even want to.  And I'll long for the day that my sweet babies just wanted to be super close to me more than anything else in the world.  For me, that will never end.  Thinking about it in that way, perhaps my favorite thing to do with my sons is watch TV, too.

A Wet Hot American Post-Kids Friday Night

Ok, so it’s 7:22pm on a Friday night. Let me guess. You and your spouse are finishing up bedtime with the kids and fantasizing. Not of a romantic dinner out and hours of nookie after. No, no, no, the post-kids Friday night fantasy goes a little differently. You’re anxiously waiting to hear the doorbell because it means the sushi has arrived, you can almost taste the cheap Trader Joe’s red wine on your lips, and oooooh so soon you will be hearing the most exciting sound...the opening credits of [fill in whatever series you and your hubs are currently obsessed with]. Yes, honey, I’ll go get the soy sauce and you pour the drinks. You’ll figure out where we left off (because one of you ALWAYS falls asleep in the middle of an episode), while I change into my sexiest sweatpants. I understand that communicating and connecting with each other is very important in a marriage but, lezbehonest, sometimes you just need to be able to sit silently next to the person you love, eat your damn sushi, and get in touch with your inner Heisenberg. And, why not?

It Reinforces Your Vows.

On your wedding day, you likely vowed to be true and faithful to your spouse. That shit doesn’t just apply to physical cheating. If you’re watching episodes of a show you watch together behind your spouse’s back, that’s a friggin' betrayal. And if it’s the series finale of the show, well, you should probably call a lawyer, because you deserve to be left. Just kidding. Well, not really.

 It Teaches You To Be Patient.

Sometimes life and marriage are about playing the long game. If you and your spouse stuck through Lost until the end, you can get through anything together.

It Makes You A Better Person.

Friday Night Lights will make you a better wife and make your husband a better husband. Forget couples counseling -- watching 5 seasons of Coach T and Mrs. T work through the challenges that wayward West Texas teens, a crushing pressure to win and an alien baby daughter throw their way, all while never, ever wavering on their love and respect for each other will have you reflecting on your relationship in a whole new way. Clear eyes, full hearts. Seriously.

 It Reminds You Of What’s Really Important.

The magazines say the secret to a good marriage is having a regular date night, communicating, not going to bed mad, blah blah blah. But I sort of think that the secret to marriage is liking your spouse enough to just be with them. No frills, no fancy restaurants, no distractions of friends. Just being perfectly content sitting in a room, in comfy pjs, debating whether lesbians should really be placed in female prisons or frantically theorizing about whether John Snow is actually dead (he’s not, is he???). My hubs and I have been together a million years so we were on the binge-watching train well before having kids, and to this day some of our favorite memories include watching 17 episodes of Lost in a row while only breaking to go buy chicken nuggets and ice cream, and buying bootlegged copies of seasons 2/3 of Mad Men on a street in Thailand during our honeymoon. Sure, I also appreciate fancy spas and nice restaurants, but ultimately, before and after kids, I just enjoy being in the same room as him. Especially if it includes sushi and wine.

Making Breastfeeding Work At Work

Ask any nursing mama who is looking down the barrel of her return-to-work date what she is most anxious about and she will probably say continuing to breastfeed while working. It’s a major source of anxiety and stress that forces many to quit breastfeeding before they’re ready or lose confidence in their ability to be successful working mothers. Indeed, only 26% of full-time working moms breastfeed for the first 6 months of their baby’s life and only 17% full-time moms manage to for the first year.

We need to work together to make it easier for moms who wish to continue breastfeeding. But if you are the mama going through it right now, you don’t have time for all that, you just want to know how the hell you’ll do it. Here are some things I learned as a breastfeeding/working mama of two kids these past few years:

1.  Don’t Hide It.

It’s ok to be discreet, but don’t treat pumping at work like a secret you have to hide from everyone else. I don’t mean that you should pull out and start pumping your bazongas in the middle of a meeting, but you have to be open about your status as a nursing mom and what that means for you with your coworkers. It feels awkward to talk about it at first, as if there is something to be ashamed or embarrassed about, but your boss and coworkers aren’t going to treat it like a natural part of your daily routine unless you do. And you know what’s REALLY awkward? Two coworkers walking in on you pumping because you were too embarrassed to tell people they should knock or ask for a lock on your door (or even ask for a cover for your door window, which is why you were hiding in a corner of your office). So just tell people the truth, it’s better than the alternative, trust me.

2.  Ask for What You Need.

If you need a lock, get one (see above). If you need to block out your calendar at certain times of the day, do it. If you need to adjust your schedule temporarily to meet the needs of your baby’s feeding or pumping schedule, ask your boss for a change. I’ve turned down lunches, excused myself from portions of long meetings, and shifted my entire schedule to make it work. It’s not easy, and there are probably people who won’t understand it. But once you prove that how you feed your baby doesn’t interfere with your brain or productivity, most people will be fine. And if they’re not, f them.

3.  Remember How Tired You Are.

A mama who was up 3 times feeding her newborn and still has to be showered (sometimes) and presentable (sort of) and at work by 8 will sometimes forget, well, everything. Forgive yourself for how absent-minded you will be in advance, and just prepare for it. Leave extra pump parts and freezer bags at work for when you inevitably forget something. Carry your pump charger with you in case your pump dies midday. Leave an extra shirt (or entire outfit) in your car for when you spill milk. And let yourself weep when you spill it.

4.  Keep Your Perspective.

Breastfeed for as long as it feels doable for you, but don’t think in terms of goals. Your kid will never remember or care that he or she wasn’t breastfed. That said, you can ride out the hard days by remembering that it continues to get easier and easier.   If you would like to do it for a year, just know that the 2^nd 6 months are WAY WAY easier than the 1^st 6 months. Your baby will start sleeping through the night, and it will get easier. Your baby will start drinking less frequently during the day (so you get to pump less), and it will get easier. Each month, it WILL get easier.  If it doesn’t, or you don’t enjoy it anymore, then stop. But if you’re just having a hard day or week, just know that you can do this.

5.  Pay It Forward.

No matter what your feeding choices are, support other moms and their choices. If your coworker is going through it, advocate for them. And if you supervise a new mom, be cognizant of what she may be going through and ask how you can help make it work. When breastfeeding at work becomes a normal part of the dialogue, policies will change and the stigma will (hopefully) vanish. We can all be a part of that. 

Mommy Tracked

It is Thursday at 1:59pm and I am watching an April rain storm from my sunroom with a piping hot cup of tea in hand.  The kids are upstairs napping and I am sitting in peace, happily writing.  I didn't wake up 2 hours before my kids did this morning, I didn't drive to work in the pouring rain, and I showered at 1pm because a friend is coming over later (otherwise, waste precious nap time on a shower? As if). I've played with the kids, had two meals with them, and had the longest conversation I've ever had with one of Noah's teachers.  There is still a lot of day left to go but, at this moment, I can say that I made the right decision.

A month or two ago an opportunity to go part-time at a law firm presented itself to me.  Leaving a hard-to-get in-house position wasn't something I would just do so, with nothing to lose, I decided to ask for exactly what I'd want in a job and not a drop less  (a mostly flex/work from home schedule, a couple of days "off" a week, a very competitive salary, and opportunity in the future for partnership), and see what happened.  Well, to my surprise, they said yes.  To all of it.   I was thrilled.  I would be able to continue developing as a lawyer, continue to significantly contribute financially to our family, and have much more time with my kids.  I made something happen that I've been talking about for years, and was feeling pretty empowered...that is, until I resigned from my job.  People at my company were shocked that I was leaving -- until I said the words "part-time."  And then, each and every person responded in the exact same way: they nodded their heads.  I know, it seems like an innocuous enough gesture.  But (to me) it meant "of course, you're a mom, part-time makes more sense."  For weeks I listened to all of the trite commentary: "You'll never regret the time with your kids"; "They're only young once"; "They grow up so fast".  And then it hit me...the outside world had officially mommy-tracked me.  Nevermind that in my new role I would still be working the majority of the week and in a rigorous and even more demanding setting.  Nope, in their eyes, I had officially taken a step back in the name of my kids and that put me in a different bucket.  For some reason, this perception (or what I perceived to be the perception) really threw me.  Of course the primary reason I was taking the new job was to achieve a better balance and have more time with the kids.  But if I hadn't worked my butt off for the past nine years, such an opportunity may not have presented itself, and I certainly would not have been able to negotiate the salary and schedule I got.  I didn't feel like it was a step back, but a rare career opportunity that I had earned.

It gave me a small glimpse into the real perception of FT working mamas.  That we aren't fully raising our kids, that we are missing something...and while admirable and respectable, making that choice doesn't always feel "right" to others.  People tend to make the assumption that if a mom could choose to spend more time (or all of her time) at home, she would.  So my news was met with more than just understanding from others, it was almost met with a sense of relief.  And I sorta felt like I was letting the FT working mama cause down.  The truth is that I would have preferred to remain full-time if I had more flexibility.  I wasn't missing my kids grow up - I had good, quality time with them each day and did all of the things I would do if I were home with them on a smaller scale.  I didn't make the change to be more of a mom, because I was always 100% a mom.  And, likewise, working on a new schedule won't make me less of an attorney.  The "tracks" are far more complex than "mommy" or "working".  Oversimplifying it does a real injustice to almost all the women I know who, whether working or not or raising kids or not, pretty much rule the world.

But today, well, today is glorious.  Today, I will put any (perceived) perception aside and have faith that I made the right choice.  I will revel in the extra time with my kids, I will work hard to prove myself in a new job, and by golly I will finish this hot cup of tea.

Winterfell

I don't hate the winter, in theory.  There's something so peaceful and quiet about it.  A nice break in the year after an every-weekend-is-booked summer, a hustle start to the fall which, for us, includes a million birthdays and runs straight into Halloween and the holidays and another birthday without much of a break.  Get past Christmas and end-of-the-year work deadlines and we - finally, deservedly - coast into a sort of quiet zone where we can watch movies guilt-free all weekend because it's too cold to go out (ok, yea, we should be at the museum or something, but shut up), subsist on homemade stew, wear sweatpants as much as life will allow, and teach our kids about snowball fights and igloos.  Sounds lovely, doesn't it?  It is, for the 3 days or so this idyllic winter hibernation plan actually works out.  Because when you have kids, the other 117 days of winter are spent with at least one person in the house (if not all) being sick.  And I don't just mean a cough and runny nose (which for the purposes of assessing whether to go to work or send your kid to school does not register even a 1 on the "sick radar").  I'm talking about rashes, multiple doctors visits, weird viruses you've never heard of, antivirals, antibiotics, ER visits, just shit that will mess your life up.

After 4 winters with kids, I can no longer passively sail into winter without feeling dread and anxiety about what's to come, saying little prayers that this or that doesn't happen.  As confident as I feel (most of the time) about being a working mom, when my kids get sick, it always takes me back a notch.  I don't want to diminish the particular torture of stay-at-home moms who have to take care of their sick kids all day and night (especially if they get sick, as well), because that is just exhausting and unrelenting.  But when you're working too, there is a nagging anxiety about how you will fit in this unpredictable nonsense, and it's always coupled with a feeling of guilt that you're giving work or your kids the short shrift (although I've found that if you want predictability as to when your kids will be sick, plan a vacation, party or presentation at work, that oughtta do it.)  Am I going to be up all night before my presentation this week?  Will I or my spouse have to stay home?  Will I make it home for a doc appointment?  Does my child need ME?  Will my boss think I'm lying?  What if my nanny gets sick?  I've delayed much-needed doc visits until my pre-scheduled work-from-home days, and I've stayed home even when I was sure my kid would be fine with our nanny.  I've canceled trips and plans, and I've traveled with kids who had no business being out of the house.  I've walked out in tears, I've stayed home in tears.  No matter what side you land on, it's always stressful.  And HA! the joke is on you if you are foolish enough to get sick yourself.  You go to work regardless because you need to save your sick days for your kids and you don't want to infect them at home.  And then people look at you like, why is she here?  You can't win.

We're not an irregularly sick family; we usually go through the same cold/ear infection rigamarole most Chicago families do (I'm curious - do families in California deal with this too?? I'm willing to move).  But years of breastfeeding, probiotics and vitamins aside, we've gotten hit hard this year.  We've already been riddled with both kids getting the flu (they're fine), our younger one hospitalized for some bowel issue I hadn't ever heard of (he's fine), and me currently on day 9 of viral pink eye/head cold (btw my tactics on trying not to infect my children with one of the most contagious things out there while still having to make dinner, change diapers, breastfeed, give baths etc is nearing comical).  But I'm fine.  Well, I've lost my will to live, but otherwise, I'm fine. 

And it's only January 26.  JANUARY 26!  Sigh.  Cue the GoT music.  It's going to be a long winter.

You're not 1 yet

I just ordered the cake, so I guess it's official....you're turning 1.  I'm not sure how it happened.  It was yesterday that I wrote Letter to my First-Born, and now here you are; this sweet, joyful little person who bounces his butt to Taylor Swift,  is in love with a mangy stuffed bunny (named "bunny"), and laughs when people sneeze.

You don't know it yet, but things are about to change for you out in the world.  In 9 short days, they'll call you a toddler, they'll give you the OK for regular milk, you'll have your first party.  But me, I'll still be calling you baby, I'll still be nursing you, and while I will enthusiastically sing happy birthday to you at your party, all I'll be thinking about is the day you came to me a year ago on that snowy December night... the most peaceful, beautiful face I had ever seen, beaming with a light that hasn't ever gone out.  I'm happy, of course, that you are growing, but if I'm expected to just let it happen without a fight, well, they don't know your mama (it's a proverbial "they", by the way; there is no specific evil force aside from Father Time at work here).  I'm not there yet.

But, lucky for me, you're not 1 yet.  So I can slow it down just a little before you're tossed out of babydom into the noisy, messy world of toddlerhood, just to savor that sweet baby essence a bit more, and to let you in on a little secret...at 11 months and 21 days, you already know pretty much everything you need to know.  Sure, it'll be nice when you're over 3 ft tall and can say crazy ass stuff like your brother, but today, your heart and soul are already perfect.  Blow out (or spit at) the candle, start drinking out of a sippy and running around, but really, please, for this mama's sake, don't actually change a thing.  Especially these things.

- That smile -- when you smile, your whole face sparkles.  I swear it does, ask anyone.  You have some kind of innate radiance; you've had it from the minute you were born, and I only wish it could be bottled.  Something, someday, will make you sad, I know (yes, something aside from us taking  the shoes you want to lick away from you)...my wish is that you're always able to see the world through this same lens.

-You adore your brother, and he adores you.  I know you'll fight one day over toys and friends and life (hopefully not about girls, please don't fight over that)....but my wish is the current open-mouthed kisses and chasing after him when he leaves the room is actively altering your DNA such that deep down, no matter what, you will always have each other's backs.  He already advocates for you having 5 more minutes before your bedtime every night, so I can tell you that at 3, he already has yours.

-Your openness.  I know you can't really complain much yet, but there's an ease about you.  You already know how to go with the flow and adapt to change.  I hope you always raise your hand when things are really important to you, but that you are also able to roll with the punches and be open to life's ebbs and flows.  

-Your courage.  Before you jump off a couch you hesitate and make sure there is some kind of support there, but then you jump -  no holds barred.  I love that.  I hope you always jump when it feels right.

-Your affection.  For me, for your daddy, for your brother, for that mangy bunny.  You hug and kiss everything like you really mean it.  People will tell you boys shouldn't be so sweet, but I can tell you that strongest men I know really are.  Plus, girls dig it. 

-Your passion.  For food, for sports, for animals (ugh but the cat love may have to change)...whatever it is, you act with intention, you love with gusto.  Please don't get lazy, please stay passionate and (for your mama's sake), please continue eating copious amounts of food.

So fine, I know I'll get over this whole birthday thing, and we will have so much fun when you can talk and sing and run like your brother.  But in my heart, you will always be this perfect, sweet baby.  And down the line, when we're seeing you off to college (or you're selling your multi-billion dollar start-up, that would be fine too), I hope I am still reminding you not to change these same things; that you will still know that how perfect you've always been in my eyes.  Thank God you're not 18 yet. 

On Sleep Training (just kidding)

Who else is sick of reading judgy parenting articles, and then the articles and social media posts judging the judgy parenting articles?  I can hardly stand it anymore, so I have to go on an ironically judgy rant.  I belong to a couple of those FB mom-groups which, for the most part, are a great platform for exchanging information and offering encouragement.  But in the past 48 hours, I've seen 4-5 incendiary posts on one of these platforms about sleep training, followed by some commentary that is equally as self-aggrandizing and divisive.  Sure, I suppose I could stop reading it, but gawking at mommy wars is something like driving by a car wreck...you know you might see something that will upset you, but you just can't help yourself.

The current tagline among moms is judge lest you be judged.  But these types of posts and the commentary that follows show that that's not really what's happening.  Which begs the question for me... is it really possible to NEVER judge the parenting of another mom?  Maybe we are setting some unrealistic expectations and could look at it another way.  After all, don't we all have a few issues that we feel really strongly about?  Presumably, when we make choices related to those issues, it's after evaluating the options and ultimately determining what we think is "best."  I think it's natural that when we see someone else making a different choice about the same thing that we - dare I say it - make a judgment.

If you're not sure if you do it, don't worry, you do.  Whether it's sleep training or nursing or vaccines or discipline or private school or epidural or processed food or iPads or extracurriculars or TV or working, there is SOMETHING you care enough about that makes you react, sometimes not in a positive way.  Sometimes we admire another's choice, if it's something we wish we could have done.  But other times, maybe most of the time, what is perceived as "judgment" is really just a guttural reaction to something that helps affirm our own sense of what is or isn't right for us.  Feeling affirmed and validated isn't a bad thing in it of itself.  We all need it, from time to time.  In your first few years of being a parent, everything is new and you are often unsure that you're doing the right things.  But in the rare moments when you feel confident that you are making good decisions for your family, it's ok (I think) to bask in it a little, even if what made you realize that is seeing someone else do it differently.

However, putting other people's choices down and taking offense in a debate is an entirely different story. Internet commentary has put all mother-in-laws since the dawn of time to shame.  I have never thought, let alone said, that someone was a bad parent for doing X, but have I noted (to myself) that X is not something that would be right for me?  Sure.  Have I given myself a proverbial pat on the back when I hear of some problem we have worked hard (and successfully) to prevent?  Sure.  Do I feel miffed if someone tells me they'd do something differently than I do?  Sometimes.  I think making these judgments from time to time and feeling defensive when you're challenged is inevitable when you care so much about doing "right" by your kids.

Perhaps the message shouldn't be, "don't judge" but, instead, to forgive others when they do and be mindful when you find yourself doing it, as it may be a good opportunity to reflect on your own choices.  We should share information, but if we don't like information that's being shared, we can choose to disregard it and not take its circulation as a personal attack.  We can acknowledge that our strong opinions can coexist with those of others. We can stop working ourselves into a tizzy trying to justify our choices to perfect strangers (sometimes really to justify to ourselves that they are the right ones for our family).  A person who feels strongly against sleep training just won't ever see it the other way.  And that's ok.  There's probably something they do that you think is ridiculous.  That's ok too.  Judge away.  Let's all just stop taking it personally.  After all, in a few short years our kids will make us feel like we did everything wrong anyway :)

Over-the-Moon

Tell the truth Experienced Moms and Dads, do you ever walk by the couples who are clearly expecting their first child...you know the ones - they are euphorically walking hand-in-hand (in the city, because that's where they still live), leisurely perusing baby books at a bookstore, enjoying an inordinately long dinner while discussing an upcoming "babymoon" -- are you quietly (but loudly in your head) thinking...HA!  you don't know what you're in for!  Even as you congratulate your ever-growing inner circle who are starting to have children, and express all the right, trite -isms like "welcome to parenthood!"....are you really thinking, "thank god we're not the only ones!"  Not that I would ever rain on that "we're pregnant and so excited" parade for anyone...aside from the inconveniences and discomforts of pregnancy for the women, it is one of the happiest times in a couple's collective life.  You're filled with such anticipation and excitement and relief because you are on a road that you may have fantasized about your whole life...there is an abundance of love and well-wishes from every corner, families coming together, it's like a 9 month-long wedding without the booze (wait, that doesn't sound so great, but you get the point). 

In reality, though, that over-the-moon couple who is casually taking a walk by the lake is soon about to experience the biggest shake-up of their lives and they can't even see it coming.  Sure, they've heard about the lack of sleep (but we'll read Babywise and be sleeping through the night at 9 weeks, right?) and the colic (but we'll just shh, swaddle, swing, right?) and all of the other evils of the "fourth trimester" that obviously can ONLY be combatted with the ancient practices of gas drops, under-stimulation and eat/play/sleep...but the secret that only the Experienced Moms and Dads can tell you is that as hard as all of that stuff is, it's not what actually rocks your world.  The first few months, and perhaps the whole first year, are all about survival, but while you are wholly focused on the survival of your baby (and yourself), there is something else independently going on that no book, friend, mother, anything can really prepare you for.  You are becoming a parent, and man can that throw you for a loop.  At some point, whether it's months or even years after your child is born, it hits you...you are no longer the person you once were.  And I don't mean that every part of you centers around your children...but how you perceive the world, your relationships, your priorities, your aspirations...it all experiences a shift, some subtle and some extreme, some great and some not so great.  Just enough such that you'll have moments where you don't quite know who you are anymore.  This can be extremely disconcerting.  Especially when you realize that this new life is here to stay.  You are forever-more, first and foremost a parent.  It outlasts separation, and death.  You will never love anything more, you will never worry less, you will always be busy and tired, you won't ever make an important decision without considering them first.  There won't be endless dinners out or casual book shopping for a while.  It's the most wonderful, yet also the hardest thing you'll ever experience.  And it's forever.  Gulp.

But parenthood is also an ever-evolving state of being,  You never know what's coming next, or how it will affect you and the decisions you make for your life.  So accepting the sheer permanence of it all is hard enough; but also learning how to be open to changing and evolving in ways that are unfamiliar and unpredictable is damn near terrifying.  Yet - once you accept that it's happening - it can also be exhilirating.  Although there are things about myself I really miss (like the ability to stay awake through a movie), I am slowly learning to embrace this new stage as an opportunity.  Having children has forced me to focus on what I really care about, what I'm willing to speak up about, what I need to work on.   What really makes me happy.  This sort of exercise takes work and change takes courage.  I don't know all of the answers.  But I'm depending on my kids to teach me how to be agile. 

So, Experienced Moms and Dads, next time you see a blissful soon-to-be-parent casually shopping for a crib (while you run in and out of BabysRUs in 2.4 seconds with everything on your list so you can be back at home in time for nap), go easy on them.  They don't know the changes they're in for, it's true.  But knowing that they'll soon experience goodnight kisses, Saturday morning snuggles and the "you won't believe what he said today" recountings with their spouse at the end of the day should reassure you that they'll eventually be just fine.

Remember When

I think I'm officially in a new era.  It started to hit me after having my first kid, but at that point we still lived in the city and we still mostly ran around with the same crowd, many of whom were still single.  But now, 2 kids and a move to the suburbs later, I'm looking around and realizing that life is pulling everyone I know in different directions - whether it's marriage, or kids, a move to the suburbs, a move out of state, a job change.  It's all exciting and entirely normal, of course, but I'm looking into the barrel of a few of my best girl friends moving away and, well, I'm a bit wistful.  Wistful of a time when we would stay out until 4am on a Tuesday, when we'd wake up late on a Sunday and eat cheese fries in bed, talk about something other than men and kids (like what, I couldn't tell you), when we actually spoke on the phone, when we'd pile up in an old car to Madison and eat Steak n Shake both ways, when friends from Indy, Wisconsin, Nashville, wherever, would come and crash on our couch without notice, when brunch was not something you had to plan a month in advance.

I don't long to return to that time, but it is hitting me that it really is in the past now...soon it will sound like high school and college memories that you rehash every time you hang out with your friends from those eras, stories that are old but that can always be revived as if they happened the day before.  The "remember when" conversations.  It is quite wonderful to have friendships that span across the different eras of your life.  Your REALLY old friends knew you when you wore braces, still remember your parents' phone number,  saw you drunk for the first time...they understand why you ended up with your particular significant other and why you chose your profession because they knew all of your exes and studied for the SATs with you.  Then college/grad school/20s friends came into the mix...they found you as a kid and helped you become a grown-up, they were with you when you found out you passed the bar, they helped your boyfriend pick out a ring, they came to your first dinner party, they know what you actually do for a living.  It's surprising, at first, when you start to call these ones your best friends too, but at some point you realize they know you just as well, or even better, than some of those really old ones.

Some people fall out as you pass through these stages, but the ones who stick, they're yours for life.  There is no saying goodbye to them, but as lives change, inevitably so do the rhythms of your relationships.  I think a part of me had fantasized that we could enter the next stage - of settling down, raising kids - all in tact.  But in reality many of my close friends live in different cities, and those who live nearby are getting busier such that getting together takes planning and effort.  It seems I am entering a new era of friendship, of meeting people through our kids, becoming a part of a neighborhood.  These new people won't know how awesome I looked in jinco jeans, won't know what our go-to karaoke songs were, and may never know my maiden name, but they'll probably end up knowing my kids better than some of my old friends do, they'll drink wine in our backyard on Sundays and help us out when we lock ourselves out of the house.

One day, perhaps, I might even be able to call them best friends.

The New Normal

After almost 15 weeks at home with my two kids, I'm officially back at work.  I was riddled with angst in the weeks leading up to "the day."  The thought of coming back made me physically nauseous, made me regularly cry.  I just couldn't imagine actually waking up in the morning, taking a shower, and walking out the door.  Mind you, this is my second time returning to work after having a baby.  I should have known what to expect, right?  It should have been easier?  It wasn't.. it was actually much harder.  This time I was leaving 2 babies.  I hadn't really thought of the fact that I would also be getting 3.5 months with my 2.5yr old and leaving him would sting too.  Being with a newborn all day by yourself can be rather isolating, but having a sidekick toddler with you who sings "wheels on the bus" in the background while you nurse and frequently asks to hold and kiss the baby makes the newborn experience much more entertaining (although having the toddler in the mix means getting a nap in for yourself is damn near impossible).  My experience during this maternity leave was, just, different.

But then, just like that,  it was over.  As is the case with any day you're hoping never comes, my return date came so fast that I was completely unprepared and in denial until the last minute (at 11 o'clock the night before I found myself asking where is my work laptop?  where are my keys?  oh i guess i need to pack up my pump?).  In the morning, I woke up, took a shower, and actually walked out the door (well, after nursing my baby, packing my lunch, getting pooped on, frantically reminding our new nanny of a million different things, making a cup of tea that would do nothing to wake me up, etc., etc., etc).  But, I did it.  I left.  And I was sad, of course.  I knew I wasn't going to get my big morning hug from my waking toddler and I wasn't going to see my baby's sweet smile all day long.  I knew I would miss them.  But that's not really what made me sad.  The most common refrain you will hear from everyone when you go back to work is that you will get used to it and that it will get easier.  And they are 100% right.  It does get easier.  You get back into the working world and remember how great it is to sit and eat an uninterrupted lunch while surfing the web.  You appreciate having adult conversations, feeling smart again, showering every morning.  You become current on the news and songs on the radio.  You always miss your kids, but when you have a great caretaker and are reassured they are thriving, you worry less and less.  You treasure the time you have with them when you get home.  If they are fine, you are fine, and it becomes the new normal.  But that's precisely what has made me sad this time.  A part of me doesn't want me to just get used to all of it - only seeing them a couple hours in the evenings, not doing the school pick-up/drop-offs, not having breakfast with them.  A part of me is asking whether I want to get used to it.  Sure, when you work outside the home full-time you also skip out on much of the mundane home routine - which can be exhausting and repetitive - and you tend to make every minute you do have with your kid count, something you may not do if you are always with them.   But whether we like to admit it or not, we do miss out on things with our kids when we are away.  Not the big things, they catch you up on that stuff.  But some of the little things...the conversations in the car after school, the non-rushed morning cuddles, playing soccer in the driveway before lunch.  You have to ask yourself, is what I'm doing worth missing those things.  It's an extremely complicated question, because it requires you to evaluate your career (where is it going? am I in the right one?), your finances (could we afford different choices?  what do we want to be able to provide for our family?), your values (what kind of example do I want to set for my kids?), your parenting (are my kids in the best possible care? would they actually be better off with more time with me?), and yourself (what will make me the most happy? what are my life goals?).   I'm afraid that if I get used to the new normal, I'll stop actively making that assessment.  It's a running dialogue in the mind of almost every working mom I know, and yet I think at some point, it's easier to get used to the status quo and move on.  Mainly because answering those questions may result in taking a big risk on a new path, which is utterly terrifying (at least for me).  But this time, I'm fighting the urge to completely adjust, just for a minute, to make sure I'm on my right path.  And I don't know, maybe I'll never be completely sure that I'm making the best decisions, but isn't it worthwhile to continue to test and re-test our choices?

Happy BabyMama

We passed the 12 week mark a couple weeks back.  The fog is starting to lift.  I am able to think clearly again, even about things other than the baby.  My body has adjusted to the sleep deprivation such that waking up 2-3x/night feels totally normal (and, sadly, like an improvement).  I don't even remember what sleeping all night long feels like (actually, I do, and it was awesome, but I'll pretend).  Life is much busier, I have a to-do list I can't start and sometimes I want to have adult beverages during the daytime, but, this time around, I have to say that I actually feel....happy.

If I sound surprised by that, it might be because I am.  With my first son, 12 weeks hardly felt like a milestone.  The day passed and I was still a sleep-deprived, perhaps somewhat depressed, definitely somewhat overwhelmed first-time mom.  He cried.  A lot.  He hardly slept.  He nursed constantly.  I felt mentally and physically kaput.  And I was pissed that the books promised that everything would get easier after we passed the magical 12 week mark.  My baby didn't miraculously stop being colicky, he didn't suddenly seem adjusted to post-womb life, and I didn't feel much better.  I wondered if I was supposed to be enjoying it more.  I wondered if I was strong enough to be a mom.  It felt like a neverending cycle, a spinning wheel I couldn't get off, and sometimes I wanted to.  But then I felt greatly disappointed in myself and guilty for having such thoughts, so I didn't say much about it (aside from passive-aggressively taking it out on myself, my husband, my family - oops).  It did pass eventually, probably around month 5, but I still wondered what it was....was it the fussy baby (or was he normal?  how are you supposed to know what normal is with your first?)...was it hormones, was it sleep deprivation, was it simply the life adjustment (or shall we say, upheaval) that comes with having a kid?  I couldn't pin it down.  But now, after having another experience to compare it to, I'm convinced.

It was (mostly) the baby's fault.

Ok, ok, yes not sleeping while your hormones are tanking and while you are trying to figure out how to be a mom all take a toll on your mood.  But dealing with all of that while also taking care of a colicky newborn takes your emotional well-being to a different place.  I remember reading that the "unlucky" parents of colicky children often experience depression, marital difficulties, etc - what??  A crying baby can ruin your entire goddamn life?  How could that be?  But if you get one, especially if you don't know you have one because you're a first-time parent who has been told she should "enjoy every moment", you start to lose your mind. 

Now with my second son, I'm having a completely different experience.  This sweet little creature has given me an overwhelming feeling happiness from the day he was born.  And it hasn't wavered, not when I have been up all night, not when both of the kids (and I) got sick, not when I was pumping and dumping in the middle of a wedding while my husband hand-fed me pizza (true story).  He cries, of course,  but not for long periods.  He is consolable and happy.  And, therefore, so am I.  People are quick to point out that I'm probably also a lot less stressed this time, and of course that is true.  But I am even more sleep deprived than the first time, a lot more busy taking care of 2 on my own the last few months, and have half the maternity leave, and yet I feel a sense of peace that I did not feel the first time at this same point...I think so much of it is due to the endless smiles of my Nevin and the constant hilarity of my Noah (that colicky little first-born turned out to be the funniest, smartest and sweetest toddler).  Your children - for better or for worse - can so poignantly affect your emotions in a way no one else can.    

So if you think you have a fussy or colicky baby, you probably do.  Go easy on yourself, and know that it will pass.  Don't feel guilty when you feel low.  Vent to a friend who has gone through it when it gets really bad (thanks AK!), because others won't get it.  When others comment on their "easy babies", just keep in mind that your baby may become a perfect toddler (which, btw, is better!) and your next kid will feel like a breeze.  You are not "unlucky" (ahem, Mr. Weisbluth)....every baby is a blessing.  And no matter what your baby is like, it is impossible to "enjoy every moment" as a parent....the true goal is to feel joy through it all. 

Letter to my First-Born

Dear Noah,

In a few weeks you're going to have a brand new little brother.  You love your "big brother" books, and you regularly kiss and high-five my belly, but as a 2yr old, you probably can't really process what this means.  Hell, as 32yr olds, I'm not sure your dad and I have really processed the life change that is about to happen.  For 2+ years it's been the three amigos.  You never have to choose who to sit next to because you're always in between us, when you yell out "mommy COME HERE!" I always do, when you want to turn the lights off in your room and look for airplanes, stars, and the "real moon" in the sky for a half hour I happily oblige.  But all of that, and much more, is about to change.  Maybe it sounds strange, but as excited as I am for the new arrival, there is a part of me that is a little sad that our threesome is about to get shaken up.  I know there will soon be a day where we can't imagine life without your little brother, and you will never remember a day when you didn't have a sibling, but I want you to know that you will forever hold a special place in my heart as my first-born, the one who changed everything...

- You were the one who taught me what true, unconditional, scary, something-beyond-yourself, LOVE really is.  I love your daddy in unparalleled ways, but I know that he would agree that our love for you and our family surpasses anything we could have imagined.  I know I will love your brother as much as I love you, but it will always be you who first tore open my heart & soul in such a profound way.

- You were the one who taught me how strong, and how weak, I really am.  You think you know yourself until you have a child, but you little creatures force us to test all of our theories about ourselves.  Some of them hold steady, many of them don't.  It's humbling, and restorative all at the same time.

- You made me appreciate my mom and all women in a way I never had.  I love that a little boy made me a feminist. 

- You made me love your dad even more.  We had 11 years together before you were in the picture, and yet seeing his love for you, and your love for him, was profound to me.  He's the only other person in the world who truly understands and loves you the way I do.  How amazing that he and I get to share that?  You made us a family.

- You were the first baby to kick the inside of my belly, nurse from me, call me "mommy", say I love you, hug and kiss me unprompted, call out to me in the night, run to me when scared, trust me with your whole heart....these are firsts I will treasure until my last breath.

- You were the one who made me really understand that creating, birthing and raising another life is a true gift.  As natural and commonplace as it is, it is nothing short of miraculous.  It is never lost on me, even the second time around. 

- You were the first to teach me the hard lesson of giving up sleep...and free time...and privacy...and not having encumbrances.  But you made me realize that none of that actually matters.  I would give all of that up again, and again (and I suppose I am).  I hope one day your brother thanks you for paving the way, as I'm sure (well, I hope) I will be much more patient and centered this time around. 

- If in the next several months it seems like I'm holding or cuddling or kissing your brother way too much for your liking, it's because you taught me how quickly babies grow up and wriggle away. 

- You made me want to live forever. 

- Last but not least - despite my kicking and screaming - you taught me to let go.  Let go of expecations, of fears, accept and appreciate the present, and have faith that we're not given anything we can't handle.  I'm not sure how such a little boy taught me such big lessons, but apparently you are wise beyond your two short years. 

I'm sure I will re-learn all of this when your baby brother arrives, and you both will continue to change my life in ways I can't yet imagine...but you will always be my first little love, and the past 2 years will always be so dear to me.  Thank you for giving me the honor of being your mama every single day!

Goodbye to the City

This past month has been utter chaos.  After looking for months for a house in anticipation of baby #2 (more on that later) and having all but given up, we found one.  Exciting yes, but also put us on a roller coaster ride of dealing with the purchase, deciding what to do with our condo in the city, setting up the move, figuring out our nanny situation and the list goes on and on and on.  All while 7 months prego.  In all of the craziness, I haven't processed a reality that is only now starting to hit me....that in in 2 weeks, we will be leaving the city...forever. We'll be leaving our condo....the first home we've owned, the home where we opened our wedding gifts, had many parties, the home where we brought our son from the hospital for the first time and the place he, now as a 2yr old, refers to as home.  We're leaving a neighborhood we have grown to love, and the things we don't love about it are things in a way I can't imagine living without.  I know we will find completely different things to love about our new neighborhood, and we are ecstatic about having more space and a yard, but I feel the need to say goodbye to some of the things that will be missed most as we move on to the next phase:

Goodbye to walking.  When you live in the city, you are used to walking everywhere.  I'll miss our walks to the farmer's market, parks, restaurants.  I'll miss walking Noah to the end of our street to watch choo-choos.

Goodbye to our dry cleaner, our 7-11 employees, our nail salon peeps.  We have oddly close relationships with all of them.  Our dry cleaner gave us money for our wedding.  Our nail lady (I say "our" because they know Adam better than me, not for pedicures, but for foot massages ha) has texted me for playdates.  The 7-11 guys know our kid's name.  It's weirdly awesome, and will be missed.

Goodbye some of the best food in city within delivery range.  Macku, Flub a Dub, Yen's on random Sunday nights, oh how you will be missed.

Goodbye to the crazies.  You get very accustomed to crazies in the city.  I may miss the guy on the El wearing sweatpants with no underwear while eating egg salad with his bare hands  Or I may not.  TBD.

Goodbye to summer street festivals.  At least we'll have Ravinia.

Goodbye to Gay Pride and Market Days just outside our condo.  I can't say I'll miss finding random condoms in the alley, but the sheer spectacle of it all, sure I'll miss it.  On that same note, goodbye to the trannies, cross-dressers, and the men who wear bikini bottoms at any time of year.  It all seems so normal to me now.

Goodbye to the Cubs.  While on one side of our condo we have Boystown, on the other side we have Wrigley. Goodbye to the "bros" who get kicked out of Houndstooth every game day, goodbye to the drunk girls in shorts on 40 degree opening days, goodbye to being able to walk to one of the best places in the country to eat a brat, drink Busch Heavy and watch baseball.

Goodbye to cabs.  Oof, hello to designated driving.

Goodbye to the energy.  You suburb veterans may call it noise, but to me the ambulance sirens, the honking, the people walking at all hours of the night, and yelling over the sounds of the El while on your phone is all part and parcel of an energy you simply can't match anywhere else.  I'll miss catching whiffs of pee in random places.  I really will. 

Goodbye to lugging groceries/dry cleaning/kids up stairs, to tight parking spaces, to hearing people walk above you, to walking with bags of groceries, to walking in the snow to the El, to spacebagging everything, to driving through snowy alleys to park at your house, to treating a balcony like a yard, to condo association meetings.  Ok, so I won't miss any of you.  But we'll always remember how it "once was", and our city-boy son who currently knows the difference between the 8 bus and the 22 will wonder how we ever lived that way.

So goodbye city....goodbye to Roscoe, to our "Chicago" address...I am so thankful for the many years of joy you have brought to us.  I am so excited for our new adventure on the North Shore, but you will always be our first home. 

Are you a bad mom?

At some point (perhaps daily), every mom feels like she is doing a shitty job.  Am I spending enough time with them?  Do I do too much/too little for them?  Do they even like me?  There are moments where you feel like you are doing it right (for example, I got home yesterday and my smiley son looked right in my eyes and yelped "happy (to) see you, mama!" - yay!  I guess I'm doing ok!), but then something else happens and you are back to reassessing and doubting your abilities.  When you really think about it, though, it's actually pretty hard to be a "bad mom."  Abuse and neglect would certainly count as bad mom activities, but if you love your kids and are mostly sane, these aren't possibilities for you.  The love part is easy, a given (maybe not the sanity).  There is nothing more natural or unconditional than a mother's love for her child.  Tale as old as time.  One of the main reasons humankind and animalkind persists.  Most moms put their kids first because there is no choice not to, anything else would go against instinct.  This doesn't mean you have to be president of the PTA or that your child never leaves your sight or that you never admit that bedtime is a relief (ha!).  It just means you love your kids, are there for them, and make sure they have everything they need (even if it means you don't have everything YOU want).  Even when you think about the girl friends you have who you can't imagine with kids because they've never taken care of so much as a plant or because they take 2 hours to get ready everyday or have never cooed at a baby, chances are if they actually have one of their own, you'll see a kind of transformation that can only arise from being ultimately responsible for another being.  Will they actually enjoy motherhood?  Maybe not as much as some, but perhaps more than they (and you) thought they would.  And they probably won't be a "bad mom." 

Though raising a kid is hard work (and raising a good kid even harder I think), feeling like a good mom isn't as hard if we just remember what really matters.  I think we are all trained to think we have to do more, be more and have everything figured out at all times.  In reality, if we love our kids and are invested in their happiness, as well as our own, we probably can't screw it up that badly.  So next time you feel like a bad mom because you let your son walk outside barefoot and he screams because his feet are burning.....or, you have to leave for work while he hangs onto your feet crying "mama please sit".......or, you turn on Mickey when you get home from work so you can just sit for 24 minutes..............try the love test.  Do you love him, does he (most of the time) seem to love you?  Are you all safe and (most of the time) happy?  Then you're doing just fine.  And when he tells you he's happy to see you, dammit, believe him and relish in it.       

Traveling WITHOUT Toddler

As a counterpart to my post about traveling with a toddler, I thought I should write about a recent trip my husband and I took without our son.  It was our first weekend away from him, ever.  Without family closeby and because I nursed over a year, it just wasn't easy to be gone for any extended amount of time.  And honestly - although I often fantasized about sleeping in until noon - we never really felt like we "needed" it.  But we did it, a three-night whirlwind weekend in NYC, and it was pretty awesome.  Our nanny stayed with Noah (I highly recommend this if it's an option, no offense to grandparents!).  Here are some things I didn't miss while being away, and some things I did miss. 

Didn't miss....
- Being on an airplane with a toddler.  Remember when you could have a conversation with your spouse, read magazines, slowly sip your beverage (or even order one for that matter) and drift off to sleep on flights???  Oh man, was this one great.  Maybe a vacation in of itself.

- The morning wake-up call.  Unfortunately, I don't think I'll ever physically be able to sleep until noon (or even 10) again, but waking up a few times and going back to sleep, and then lazily starting the day without someone immediately asking for waffles is pretty damn nice. 

- Being high-maintenance.  My husband and I are low-maintenance travelers.  We never used to check bags, we are adept at walking or using public trans in whatever city/country we're in and can fly by the seat of our pants on trips.  Being away reminded me how high maintenance even the lowest maintenance people are forced to be when there are kids involved.  You're working around nap/bedtime schedules, you are looking for particular types of restaurants, carting a stroller, packing snacks and sippies before you can leave, and you can't just be outside all day long.  A couple days of simplicity were highly rejuvenating.

- Being regularly interrupted.  To go 2.5 entire days of talking to your spouse, to friends, to a waiter, to ANYONE without at the same time simultaneously saying "please put that down", handing a little someone a firetruck, and cutting a banana?  Yea, pretty amazing.

Missed....
- My toddler.  Obviously!  I didn't cry when we left and I was happy for the time off, but damn can those rugrats invade your mind.  I can't tell you how many times we said "Noah would really love this" or "we should bring him here when he's older."  No matter what your intentions are, you spend much of your time talking about your little ones.  We spend A LOT of time laughing at him behind his back, fantasizing about his future, and wondering where he gets his smartass attitude (must be Adam, right).  Makes me miss his stinky butt when I'm away from him.

- The morning wake-up call.  As much I appreciated waking up later and lazily starting our day, is there anything sweeter than waking up to the sound  of "mama?  daddy?"  over the baby monitor?  Sorry, there isn't.  So I missed that, and I missed walking into his room and seeing his sleepy smiley face and hearing him say "hi mama" .  I didn't miss him immediately thereafter asking for milk, daddy, Mickey and breakfast (in that order), but all the stuff before it, yeah, I missed all that.

- The afternoon nap.  So it's great being able to be out all day and not tied to a nap schedule, but then you know what you miss?  Your own downtime/nap!  Turns out I've gotten rather used to being "forced" into rest-time on the weekends.  We were exhausted by dinner.

- Family time.  On the weekends, we 3 hardly leave each other's sides.  We play in bed in the mornings, we eat our meals together, we go out, we run errands together, we take afternoon naps.  We try not to have too many weekends in a row w/ external plans/parties/responsibilities because we need "us" time.  This how we've kept a life that is inherently more high maintenance as simple as possible.  So an entire weekend without one member of our threesome feels...unnatural.  I feel the same way when Adam is busy with work and Noah and I are on our own.  We're happiest when we're all together.  I still think you absolutely must have adequate one-on-one time with your spouse, whether it's making the most out of your evenings, making an effort to do date nights and trips like this are great for the relationship.  But do we need an entire weekend very often?  Nah.  I'm thinking that's a good thing.

Lean In, Be Fearless

Ok, so we've all heard of Sheryl Sandberg's book Lean In by now and many of us have read it.  If you haven't yet, in a nutshell, she's encouraging women to "lean in" to their careers by, among other things, reaching for opportunities, taking a seat at the table, raising expectations, managing fear of failure, and making "real partners" out of their spouses.  I first have to say, thank the Lord someone important is starting a public dialogue about working women's issues.  A big part of the reason I started a blog was to do that and it feels like the public conversation has recently exploded.  The book is not just for those who are striving for CEO status (forget all of the "Lean Back" or "Stand Straight" or whatever talk), you can take whatever you need from it.   

My greatest takeaway from the book was that we need to take personal ownership of our success and be fearless.  Fearless in setting goals, fearless in going after them and fearless in structuring our lives to have all of the things we want.  She sends this message mostly through a retelling of the internal struggles and insecurities she has overcome (that she believes most women face).  If you think the biggest challenge to your career advancement tends to be you (how you set your goals, thinking you're not as capable as you are), then this book will be really helpful for you.  But if you are generally not afraid to sit at the table (proverbial and literal), but feel that your biggest challenges are instead institutional barriers and the ability to structure your career such that you still have a personal life, then you may find yourself wanting more from the book.  To her credit, she makes clear that it was not meant to be focused on the external, institutional issues, but I think as you read you still hope it may be.  At least I did.  I don't really feel stifled by most of the self-limitations that Sandberg discussed.  Not that I'm always confident, or speak up as much as I should or am immune to wanting to be liked, I just don't feel that limited by those things.  To me, it's not just about the "faults" women should improve upon and the personal choices we have to be really careful about when making ("choose the right guy" being one of her examples, oof), it's more about the faults we have institutionally and as a society that make it difficult for women AND men to live and work to the greatest of their abilities.  I don't believe that blindly hoping that pioneering women who reach the top will change the rules is enough (See my post about Marissa Mayer -- and btw I utterly disagree with Sandberg's opinion that knocking Mayer's latest decisions is in itself anti-feminist, nice try defending your friend).  

That said, I do not discount the research that suggests that women negotiate salaries less, are less likely to ask for promotions, etc, but let's think about why that may be.  Is it because we inherently underestimate our abilities?  Maybe.  But I think Sandberg hit the nail on the head when she said that women "leave before they leave".  That is, women might be afraid that aggressively going after a promotion will mean that if they get it, their superiors will be unwilling to give them flexibility or time off in the next 5 years when they may start a family.  Or maybe they are reluctant to start down a particular career path around child-bearing/rearing years because they are unsure of how their life will be affected.  Sandberg says to put those concerns out of your head and keep your foot on the gas pedal until you absolutely have to slow down.  I don't find that to be very realistic.  The truth is, you do often have to plan ahead and make choices before you start a family.  For example, if you are a physician, you might have to pick a specialty in medical school, and perhaps you choose a specialty that has more predictable hours knowing that in the future that will be more suited to family life.  Or if you are a lawyer working at a big firm like I did, you may choose to take a great in-house opportunity when it comes rather than slave for 10 years on the partner track only to realize you don't actually want the partner lifestyle and are now overqualified for many in-house jobs.  There is often a "right" time to make career choices, and depending on your career it might come before you establish a family.  I think that if you keep your foot on the gas like Sandberg suggests, you may end up so invested down a particular path that you give up on some of the things you thought were important before.  I think if, institutionally and as a society, companies made it easier for their employees to give 110% even if they have kids or other external responsibilities, it would help people stay in the game.  If you knew that getting that promotion would not meaningfully affect your ability to have a balanced personal life, wouldn't you go for it no holds barred?  I have faith that most women - whether they doubt their abilities or lack assertiveness - would.  It's just not our reality, yet.  A good example of not being forced to leave before you want to leave is a friend of mine who was due to have a baby right when the state representative for whom she was working was running for state congress in Austin a few hours away from where she lived.  She let him know that she wanted to work on his campaign, but she and her new son couldn't realistically live hours away from her husband for 6 months.  The state representative let her work on the campaign remotely 2 days a week and she traveled to Austin for the other 3 days to make it work.  Though she probably would describe it now as some of the hardest months of her life, she was not only able to keep her job, but her boss is now a U.S. Congressman and she is one of his district directors.  Not being afraid to ask for what you need AND having a boss who values you enough to work with you and adjust as necessary is key. 

Sandberg also proposes that men should split household duties 50/50 for women to be able to optimize their careers.  But do you know of any families where this actually happens?  I speculate that Sandberg and her husband don't really share all of their family's responsibilities, but instead rely on a great deal of outside help for the day-to-day and then share the rest.  And she's probably the one who manages that outside help.  It's all just a guess, but a good guess I think.  Even if husbands pitch in with housework/childcare, women still tend to do more (they do 2/3 of it, say the stats) and also tend to be the primary planner of the family's lives (managing kids' schools/extracurriculars, planning vacations/holidays/special events, ensuring a social life).  And I'd even venture to say that women generally prefer to be the master of the household in these ways.  They may care more about certain things than their husbands, hell they may even care more about their husbands than their husbands (hence the reason why I pack my husband's lunch every morning, he'd be fine w/ Arby's everyday).  I also think for the most part women are just better at multi-tasking work and home, so from an efficiency perspective it often makes more "sense" for women to have more home responsibilities.  These are obviously huge generalizations, but I think they ring true for many families.  I know moms who make more money than their husbands (and whose husbands are home a lot) who still opt for less demanding jobs after kids so they can be more in the home.  Doesn't make economic sense, so what is it?  When I worked for a law firm, I knew several women who were married to other big firm lawyers (so they made similar salaries/had similar career potential) and when they had kids, it was the wives who went part-time, not their husbands.  Maybe women actually prefer that the home responsibilities not be split 50/50 even if in theory that seems fair.  I 100% agree that responsibilities have to be shared as much as possible and couples can strive to get better at that, I just think that ultimately women will always do more.  Maybe that means acknowledging that the working mom's situation is unique.  Maybe it means accepting that the gender wage gap partially represents different preferences and therefore may always exist.  It could mean a lot of things.  But calling for a 50/50 split in the majority of families who don't have a lot of outside help as an essential way for women to succeed just isn't that realistic to me.  (Btw, I caveat this with the fact that when I started my new job after maternity leave, my husband stayed home with our son for a few months while he studied for the bar, so of course I know it's possible for dads to step up when they need to.  I just don't think in most families' day-to-day lives it quite works out that way). 

So those were some of my thoughts.  Sandberg's book was a good reminder to not hold myself back and be more aware of things I may I do or think that could get in my own way. And as much as I didn't think I really needed the reminder, I realized half way through it that everytime I read the book in a public place, I'd subconciously set it down cover-down, as if it were embarassing to be reading about my interest in succeeding.  It's currently sitting on my desk, cover-up.

Would love to hear others' opinions on the book or any of these issues!

Traveling with Toddler

We somehow ended up with 4 trips in 7 weeks.  3 of them involve flying.  All of them include an 18 month old.  Sound insane?  It is, absolutely, but has been totally doable with some preparation and forethought.  Here are some tips I've amassed on traveling with a wild little one:

1)  Don't expect your kid to sleep on the flight.  This means not scheduling a flight during regular naptime or in the evening post-bedtime.  The downside is you will likely be entertaining them the whole flight (but if they happen to fall asleep, yay).  The upside is they won't be an overtired disaster because they are unable to fall asleep in your lap, and you won't be stressed out about trying to make them fall asleep.  We made this mistake when we first flew with Noah at 4 months old.  He cried for about 2 hours.  We almost killed ourselves.

2)  Plan on your kid eating on the flight.  Even if this means skimping on their prior meal.  Snacking/eating is a great way to pass time.  The sticky placemats don't work on the trays, but take paper towel/tape or a little plate.  Small things that they can eat slowly work well.

3)  Don't forget your f'n iPad.  No matter what your opinion is on tv, video games, blah blah blah, let it go for your sanity and the greater good of other passengers.  Download a movie they like before you leave and make sure their fave apps are on there (if they don't use iPad regularly, show them bits of a movie or apps prior to the trip so they will be excited to play w/ them on the plane).  This doesn't buy you a ton of time when your kid is under 1, but it still helps as part of the rotation (see #5) and only gets better as they get older.

4)  Toys:  dont bring ones that make noise, but ones that take some dexterity/time to use.  A big book of stickers and a couple sheets of paper work well.  Books, crayons, an empty little box to take stuff in/out of, kids' laptop turned on low volume.  Variety is key.

5)  Switch between #2-4 constantly.  So eat for 30 mins, then do toys for 30 mins, then iPad, and then repeat.  Don't start it until you are in the air, because until then they can be quite entertained with what's outside the airplane window.

6)  Bring 2 or 3 changes of clothes, and one for you/your spouse too.  Out of the 12 flights we've taken Noah on, only 2 were total disasters (not bad, right? but the bad ones were epic).  The first I mentioned in #1.  The second was on our way to Texas this past Thanksgiving when Noah conveniently began to show signs of the stomach flu on our way to the airport and threw up all over himself and the car seat we were taking with us on the plane (see # 7).  So, because I was SO prepared (ha!), I had a second outfit handy and did a quick change at the airport.  Then he threw up again ON the plane, all over his second (and last) outfit and me.  We had to change him back into the first outfit because it was less pukey (but still pukey, mind you) and I had to rinse my jeans off as best I could...all in the wonderful confines of the airplane bathroom.  So....yeah....third outfit.  Maybe a fourth. 

7)  Keep packing SIMPLE -- Rent a car seat with your rental car when you get to your destination, and buy a cheap light umbrella stroller for travel.  If you go to a destination often (like grandparents' house), keep a pack n play, car seat and high chair there so you don't have to bring any of it.  We usually just check 1 big suitcase and just carry on 2 backpacks full of #2-6.

8)  Be reasonable about your plans.  If you are traveling w/ a baby under 3 months or so, a driving trip is great because they can sleep on and off much of the time (we drove to Nashville at 6 weeks with 1 overnight stop in between and it worked fine).  If you have a toddler who can't sit still for very long, don't think that a long flight will be smooth sailing.  Be careful about scheduling trips with layovers.  3 hour non-stop flights have worked well for us so far, and since we're centrally located we've still been able to go to a variety of places like Texas many times, Florida a couple times and Maine.  There is plenty of time for longer trips.

9)  When you get where you're going, chill out and go w/ the flow.  Let them be off their schedule if it works out that way, know that they may not sleep well while away (again, this gets better when they're toddlers), let them eat ice cream at night, just don't stress about any of it.  It will all go back to normal once you get home. 

Even if your little one does great traveling, it's never easy.  Don't be too embarassed if your kid cries on the flight, anyone around you with kids will understand.  And the ones who don't will be listening to music with their noise elimination headphones while reading on their iPads - God that sounds like a vacation within itself.

Manners and Mysteries of Marriage

Next week is a big week for marriage.  The Supreme Court will be reviewing same-sex marriage laws for the first time ever and its ultimate decision on these issues could be as influential as Roe v. Wade has been to the abortion (and anti-abortion) rights movements.  Tuesday's question is whether California may define marriage as only between a man and a woman (Prop 8), and Wednesday's arguments will focus on whether DOMA (already declared unconst by Obama - can he do that?) can deny benefits to married gay and lesbian couples that are a right of heterosexual married couples.  As gay marriage is one of the most politically charged issues of our day, often debated in terms of religion and social custom, I think we have to ask, what is marriage really? 

At a recent wedding I attended, the pastor gave a beautiful homily on the definition of marriage.  I believe borrowing from a female writer Flannery O'Connor, the pastor talked about marriage as a combination of mystery and manners.  The mystery, as I interpret it, helps define the abstract fundamentals of marriage.  Marriage is, fundamentally, a promise.  It's a promise to live life as a unit, take care of one another always, and share in life's inevitable joy, disappointment, sadness and triumph.  Being able to keep that promise and endure in a such a way that each person is able to experience overall happiness is somewhat of a mystery.  After all, you aren't happy every single day, people evolve, and you have no idea what's coming at you 5, 10, 15, 20 years down the road.  But we keep faith in the mystery.  No one, Supreme Court or otherwise, can dictate who we share that with.  It is intimate, intangible and a couple's journey to take alone. 

But there are many tangibles that breathe life into a marriage.  Manners that serve the mystery.  They are the everyday things like starting the car for your wife so it's warm by the time she gets in it, packing your husband's lunch, and saying I love you (or something ridiculous like me and mine do) before you leave the house.   There is calling each other husband and wife to other people (seems small, but there's something so meaningful about that, isn't there?).  There are also the legal ramifications that have long-lasting impacts on your life.  Perhaps sharing a last name, making financial decisions that bind the unit, having or adopting children together.  Or being able to cover your spouse on your insurance, spend the night w/ your spouse if he/she is in the hospital, and be assured you won't lose your house or children if your spouse dies.  No matter how long you date your sig other before you get married (and I dated mine for a LONG time), there is a distinct and wonderful shift that occurs once you say "I do."  I no longer believe in the, "we're basically married" concept.  You either are, or you are not, I think in large part because of all of the tangible rights marriage affords you and how those rights change the shape of your relationship.

A friend of mine getting married next month told me that she was most excited about the "little" things like being able to file a joint tax return and merging bank accounts.  Another two engaged friends are technically getting married in court well before their actual ceremonial weddings so their parents will be comfortable with them living together during their engagements.  But these things are not little, they are not technicalities.  These are just a few of the rights afforded to married couples so they can make joint decisions, and take care of each other and their children in life and after one passes on.  They allow couples to truly live a unified life, to fully trust in the mystery that otherwise binds them.  They are what gay rights activitists are fighting so hard for because getting married is much more than making a simple promise.  You need manners to keep it. 

Essentially Disappointed

My post about workplace flexibility was apparently very well-timed, as days later the work/life balance debate became front and center in the media when Marissa Mayer, the new Yahoo! CEO, announced that Yahoo! would no longer allow telecommuting.  Mayer also happens to be a new mother.  Many are outraged, they fear that such a rule sends the wrong message about workplace flexibility in corporate America and will disproportionately affect working mothers.  Others, even if they disagree with the ban, feel that judging Mayer for making such a choice is a bunch of feminist essentialism.  That is, if we wouldn't have questioned the decision if a working dad made it, we shouldn't be questioning Mayer (interestingly, the two women I found who shared this sentiment have had work-from-home careers and admit they wouldn't be in the workforce without that type of arrangement.  See here). 

Should we ignore the fact that she's a woman and new mother in the name of feminist non-essentialism?  I don't think so.  We only have a handful of Fortune 500 companies run by women (18 maybe, and that is a record high) and this one was juicy because, as the media kept pointing out, she was the youngest female CEO of a Fortune 500 and she was pregnant when she accepted the Yahoo! job.  I don't think that information is irrelevant or anti-feminist to talk about.  I think people's interest in watching how a young mother of a newborn would handle running a large company shows how important of an issue work/life balance is to men and women in this country.  It is true that if the new Yahoo! CEO were a man whose wife was having a baby, there would be no headlines.  But I think that is ok, because the headlines acknowledge the reality that balancing childcare and career is more of a woman's issue, and that  a new-mom CEO of a large Fortune 500 company may be able to set a great example for a more balanced perspective in corporate America.  If only she were interested in doing so.

Instead, she publicly commited to and took only two weeks of maternity leave and now has ended telecommuting at a company in a poster-child industry for workplace flexbility.  I don't think she decided either because she wanted to hurt working moms/dads - everyone experiences parenthood in different ways, so maybe 2 weeks was enough for her (what!) and she had very reasoned business justifications for the ban, but the message Americans are forced to swallow is, this is what it takes.  Seems daunting and most of us won't make the cut, as not all of us can build a nursery next to our offices like she did or have the help she probably does.  So it is disappointing, at least to me, not because I think she "owes" me anything, but because I made the assumption that if women ruled corporate America, it would look different.  Turns out that may not be the case.

The Balancing Act

The second question I'm almost always asked by other moms about my relatively new job after "How's your job going" is, "Do you have flexibility"?  There are many aspects to one's career -- how challenging and interesting the work is, what your future potential/plans may be, how you handle managing others/being managed, etc -- yet a primary concern for working moms is figuring out how others are balancing full-time careers, young children, and otherwise full lives.  It's that elusive, mythical, "work-life balance" we are all after.  I think the balance looks different to every parent, but one common thread in attempting to achieve it is the need for workplace flexibility.  This sounds like a dreaded term to an employer, doesn't it?  It sounds like it may require an employer to lower expectations, or make exceptions for an employee.  The need for it can come across as a sign of weakness, of not being able to handle the job.  So as common as it is to talk about it among other working women, and as necessary as it is for most to getting closer to that balance, many feel hesitant and anxious to talk to their employer about it.  Should women have to wait to be perceived as indispensable before they can bring such issues up?   Should they feel less valuable as an employee or like their future potential with the employer is diminished for needing such an accommodation? 

As I expressed in my lament about the misdirection of Mitt Romney's "binders full of women" comment, I don't think that women will have equal pay/status in this country until we get better about workplace flexibility and address a host of other working women's issues (paid maternity leave, child care benefits etc).  Flexibility might mean different things, and not all jobs allow for the same types of flexibility.  It does not, however, mean decreased expectations or requirements.  It means being creative.  For example, you can't work from home in your regular duties as a physician, but maybe there are administrative tasks that can be done remotely or an earlier or nighttime shift that would work better with your kid's schedule.  If you frequently have evening client events, possibly a later morning start time or a longer break midday would help.  Maybe you'd prefer to work more on the weekend and have shorter weekdays.  You're not "entitled" to these things, of course, but thinking through the possibilities may prevent valuable women from being forced to leave their full-time professional careers or the workforce generally. 

Of course, the choice to have a child is a personal one.  So I understand the argument that if you make that choice, you have to be prepared for consequences, including some to your career.  This is a fair point, but stopping there ignores the impact on women, families, employers and society as a whole.  The truth is, the majority of Americans make the choice to have kids.  Women make up about 47% of the labor force and the vast majority of them are or will become mothers (over 80% of women aged 35-44 have at least one child).  And 77% of moms choose to be in the labor force.  Working moms, therefore, are a powerful group and keeping them in the labor force full-time and allowing them to advance is advantageous to the economy as a whole.  For employers, happier employees likely make for more productive, enthusiastic and long-term employees.  And think about the recruitment and retention benefits if an employer is forward-thinking on these issues.  Plus, parents being able to spend more time with their kids while also being successful in their careers has societal benefits we should all be interested in.  It will never be perfect, but it's something we can improve.  At a minimum, we should stop being afraid to ask for it.  (And, by the way, I'm all for dads and those who take care of aging/sick parents or other loved ones having options, as well.) 

I'm curious to hear from others what kind of flexibility you have, what you would like, what has worked best for you, etc, either offline or on the blog.