Some of Everything

Can working mothers have it all?
 

I’m writing this from our living room couch, while Amelia watches My Little Pony before bed. The dog is snoozing at my feet, dishes are in the dishwasher and the laundry is mostly folded. Jeff is across the room, reading. It’s kind of a postcard of suburban domestic bliss. But maybe I’m supposed to be in Pittsburgh. 

Today is the second day of the Association of Children’s Museums’ annual 3-day conference. I’ve attended this conference almost every year since 1995. It changes locations each year, and I’ve been going so long that I remember the last time it was in Pittsburgh. It’s a professional development and networking event, and since I’m officially a freelancer again, networking is key. It’s also an annual gathering of old friends and colleagues, an opportunity to stay up too late in the hotel bar talking about exhibits with a bunch of people who love them the way I do, without spouses checking their watches. Last year at this conference, I was at a career turning point and the solid advice, unwaivering support and valuable perspective of my ACM friends gave me the confidence to make a change I desperately needed. Last year I was a mess, and this year I’m better. I was looking forward to going to this year’s conference to say thank you, check in, and pay it forward.

But last night was New Parents’ Open House at the school where Amelia will start kindergarten. And my decision to freelance full time was all about priorities. 

A few months ago, I saw a job posting that sounded great. I inquired about it, and it sounded even more interesting. I was definitely qualified, and strongly encouraged to apply. But I kept hesitating. Finally, my husband ran out of patience. Look, he said, I can’t keep having this debate. I will support you either way, but do you or don’t you want to meet the school bus?

Wow. That’s easy. I do want to meet the school bus. It’s what I’ve always wanted. But I also love my career and we sure do spend my paycheck. So I looked around. I have two interesting, challenging, rewarding freelance projects that will keep me busy through the summer. I have two more pending for the fall. There’s no reason to think there won’t be more after that. So at least for now, freelance work is a viable option with a lot of perks. Not only can I have the joy of meeting the school bus, but the fact that Amelia is ON a bus at 3pm means she doesn’t have to go to after school care. If I can earn a living and also avoid 11-hour days for my 5-year-old, well, any other option just seems selfish.

Have I found the elusive work-life balance that mothers everywhere dream of? If so, it’s still not perfect. There are choices and tradeoffs, because doing both means you can’t give everything to either one. Working for myself means the time management decisions are mine, and there isn’t time “reserved” by an employer. I can watch ballet class, but I will be up very late writing. If I go to parents’ night, I’m also deciding not to go to the ACM conference. 

But here’s the thing – there will be another conference next year. In fact, missing a year is a great incentive to call some of my ACM friends and catch up one-on-one in the coming weeks. Those relationships are intact, and networking can still happen. But Amelia won’t be starting a new school next year, and I’ll never have a rising kindergartener again. I’ve missed enough milestones already, and now that time management is up to me, I've chosen to meet the school bus.  

So I think you can have it all, you just can’t have all of it. Tonight, I see from the photos on Facebook that I’m missing a great time in Pittsburgh. But this year I belong here, on this couch, with my family.  I’ll see you next year, I promise!

Want more Mess? Check out A Crafty Mess over at Charlotte Parent, or visit my Etsy store, Made by Mommy.

Testing the Limits

My daughter is probably crying. Or she will be soon. What’s wrong, you wonder? Nothing at all.

Amelia’s never been much of a crier – a talker, yes. She argues relentlessly about issues she believes in.  Like whether or not princesses go to the potty, and the nuanced distinctions between ponies, flying horses, and unicorns.  She argues with remarkable logic, reason, and WORDS.  Not crying.

But suddenly, something has changed.  If her favorite dress is in the washing machine she gets all choked up.  Macaroni and cheese in the shape of shells instead of spirals is a crisis. Or if we insist that she stop singing in bed and JUST GO TO SLEEP at 10:30pm, here come the waterworks. I feel like this lady, who photographs her toddler in all stages of meritless meltdown.

But Amelia isn’t a toddler and I’m not taking pictures. I mentioned this new crying habit to some mommy friends the other day, and they all nodded in sympathy. The same thing is happening with their 5-year-olds. Amelia is testing me, and she might be winning. She’s wondering just how far I will bend the rules in order to stop or avoid the tantrum. Guess who is wearing sparkly party shoes instead of sneakers today to her tennis class? Call me lazy, blame the dentist appointment we were already late for, but I just wasn’t up for the fight this morning.  It’s not like she’s Serena Williams.

And I kind of understand. I’m testing limits too, wondering how far I can push before there are consequences. You might remember that in January, I started a 6-week Biggest Loser weight loss challenge. At the end of 6 weeks, I’d lost 17 pounds and won a hat.  A few weeks later I was down 23 pounds…and I went to a Bar Mitzvah and ate some cake.  Guess what? It didn’t matter. I still lost weight that week. So I had some ice cream. And I still lost weight. It felt like I ran a red light and didn’t get caught. 

And now, after nearly 2 solid weeks of “tasting” chocolate, pizza, frozen yogurt, and anything else I’ve wanted, I’m afraid to get on the scale. How much exercise will it take to hide bad kitchen behavior? How bad is the damage? I know what I need to do, and I know I’m not doing it. I found the limit, and I might have to cry.  Or pick myself up, tie my running shoes, and get back to the gym. I wondered how far I could push, and now I know. 

So Amelia, grab a tissue. Next week you’re wearing tennis shoes to tennis class.

Want more Mess? Check out A Crafty Mess over at Charlotte Parent, or visit my Etsy store, Made by Mommy. 

Home at Last?

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday. 

We’re Jewish, so Easter doesn’t generally involve looking for eggs in the garden, or church, or much of anything really. This year it coincides with the end of Passover, so we’ll be unceremoniously dining on the broken sheets of matzoh left at the bottom of the box.

But Easter Sunday has a special meaning for us. Eight years ago, we first saw Charlotte, North Carolina on Easter Sunday. Jeff and I were newlyweds from Boston, and we used all our frequent flyer miles to come here, chasing a job. I’d been following the development of ImaginOn: The Joe & Joan Martin Center for over a year, and had finally landed a job interview. A phone interview. I knew I’d never be hired if I didn’t show up in person, so we flew south, uninvited.  And a few weeks later, we drove south, with a U-Haul-It.

So fast forward eight years, and here we are. We’ve added a kid and a dog. And a house. And more stuff than we’d ever want to schlep in a U-Haul-It again.  And the job? It was even better than I’d imagined and completely worthy of the chase, but if you’ve been following this blog you know I’ve made a few career changes since.

Coincidentally, I’m working on a consulting project in Boston, which brings me north every few weeks, usually with just enough time outside of meetings to have dinner with old friends. Who all want to know when we are coming back “home.”

Good question. Where is home, anyway?

Is it where you start, where your extended family lives, where people knew your grandmother and remember you as a kid?

Or is it where you go, where your new family plants roots and grows, where your children are born and everyone knows who you’ve become?

For the first seven years, we had an easy answer to this. Home is where our jobs are, so we have to stay in Charlotte. But at the moment, we’re both portable. We just like it here.

So for now, can we stay home? 

Want more Mess? Check out A Crafty Mess over at Charlotte Parent, or visit my Etsy store, Made by Mommy. 

One Week at a Time

This morning I drove to a big building and signed some forms. And just like that it was over. Amelia is registered for kindergarten.  

When she was born, people told us time would fly by. I secretly cursed these people, sure they were just taunting the sleep-deprived new parents with the impossible promise of a walking, talking, sleeping child right around the corner, one who would dress herself and handle her own personal hygiene.  

Five years later we’re still not sleeping, but otherwise it was true. She knows more than I do about the ipad, dresses herself, puts herself in the car, helps herself to a snack, and continues to grow like a weed – proof that time does indeed fly.

The passage of time isn’t lost on Amelia.  In fact, she’s pretty obsessed with it lately.  She counts down days until birthdays, playdates, trips, even a new episode of Princess Sofia. That songabout the days of the week – sung to the tune of “The Addams Family” - has become part of my subconscious playlist. I don’t even remember the original version, it’s all about “there’s Sunday and there’s Monday”…you get the idea.  And if you have an almost-kindergartener you’re snapping your fingers and cursing at me right now. 

Anyway, this last year of preschool is all about getting ready for kindergarten, and that means the days of the week – and the schedule they dictate – are very important.  So we made a dry-erase schedule chart. 

Really it’s just a fancier version of a dry-erase office calendar, but instead of the date of the month, this one features the day of the week. I’ve seen versions of this on pinterest and elsewhere over the years, so when I came across a 5-opening frame missing some glass in the clearance bin at Bed Bath and Beyond I knew exactly what to do with it.  Buy it, sneak it into the house, and finish this project before Jeff could question the purchase of a broken frame!

Fixing the frame was easy, I replaced the glass with glass from another one.  Next, Amelia and I went through our basket of fabric scraps and picked out five patterns we liked. The key here is to choose patterns that are not too dark or too busy to serve as backgrounds for your dry erase marker.  You could do this with paper too, but we have to use all that fabric for something!

We wrapped the backing from each frame with fabric, taping it tightly on the back. And then we re-inserted the fabric-covered backgrounds behind the glass.  That’s it!  We used sticker letters to add the days of the week (snap, snap!), hung it over the row of hooks that hold all of Amelia’s school bags, and filled it in with her schedule.  If we were really fancy, we’d hang the ballet bag under the ballet day. But we’re not that fancy.

So we’re ready. Bring it, kindergarten. What day does school start?

Craving more crafty fun? Check out additional posts of A Crafty Mess over at Charlotte Parent. Or stop by my Etsy store, Made by Mommy.  Or better yet, leave a comment here...I'd love to hear from you! 

Hi, Loser!

When I was a kid, being called a loser was a bad thing. The loser was uncool, unpopular, uninvited. For a while there in upper elementary and middle school, I was the loser. 

and it couldn't!

Starting two weeks ago, loser has a new meaning – hopefully the one Amelia will forever associate with the word. I’ve joined a weight loss challenge at our gym, sort of a low-rent version of the television show The Biggest Loser. I’ve actually never watched the show (I guess I should), but I’m part of a team of losers, trying to lose more cumulative weight than the other teams.  I’ve run into a few teammates outside of the gym, and already we’re greeting one another with “Hi, Loser!” Maybe it’s encouragement, maybe we’re just still learning each other’s names, but either way, it’s definitely not the schoolyard anymore.

I plan to be a very big loser. I turned 45 last week, and to celebrate this milestone I will lose 45 pounds in my 45^th year. It’s a long term goal, but the more I say it out loud the more real it becomes.  So I’m saying it – and trying to remember that the words are important.  My childhood friend Dara Chadwick wrote a book called “You’d be soPretty If…” and reading it has made me extra conscious of how what I say about myself influences Amelia’s attitude about her own body.  

So I’m not going to be ashamed or apologetic about gaining the weight. But for myself and for Amelia, I will be eager and excited about becoming healthier and stronger and making better choices. And if that includes 6am workouts with a bunch of other losers, I’m in.  Proudly. You heard it here, out loud.

Now somebody please set an alarm clock!

Craving more crafty fun? Check out additional posts of A Crafty Mess over at Charlotte Parent. Or stop by my Etsy store, Made by Mommy.  Or better yet, leave a comment here...I'd love to hear from you!

We Have a New Addition

Jeff, Amelia, and I are thrilled to announce the New Year’s Day arrival of Bentley Baron, weighing in at a healthy 9lbs.  He sleeps through the night, never cries, and brings enormous joy to our family.

I know what you’re thinking, and kindly bite your tongue.  I’ll be 45 in two weeks.  Bentley has four legs, fluffy ears, and a short little tail. He’s part toy poodle and part bichon, and all adorable dog. And he’s a rescue, so we can feel good about providing a home for a dog who needs one, not supporting a puppy mill, and a bunch of other do-gooder stuff…but selfishly, we also feel pretty lucky because somebody else has already trained him. Adopting year-old, pre-owned Bentley is like inheriting a well-behaved, potty-trained preschooler instead of birthing an infant who stays up all night.  Since we already have a preschooler who stays up all night, Bentley’s my kind of addition.

And Amelia is over the moon. She’s been asking for a dog for as long as I can remember. She probably said “doggie” around the same time as “mommy.” She may have even called me a doggie, which would have been a compliment. We’ve long promised that when she turns five we’d get a dog, and since Amelia has a memory like a steel trap and a birthday that just passed, the dog search has been on for a while.

Which is good, because it turns out that adopting a dog is serious business. I’m not sure why I thought it would be simple – like someone who loves dogs enough to rescue them from pounds would then just blindly place them with anybody who promised some kibble. Nope, this involved an application with essay questions, a phone interview with the dog’s foster mom, two reference checks, an in-person interview, and a home visit. 

Which, now that Bentley is curled up beside me as I write this, I understand and appreciate. He’s a new family member. He’s here for the long haul. We thought this would be Amelia’s companion, but we all are in puppy love.  As Amelia says, Bentley is the perfect dog for us. 

Ok, enough with the lovey-dovey stuff. I don’t have a craft for this post, apart from the expected dog accoutrements – a little toy box, a pillow for his (scarcely used) crate, and I’m sure there will be a dog department in my Etsy shop soon enough. Instead, here are some things we’ve learned about dog adoption…you know, in case anybody reading this is interested in bringing home a new best friend and immediately turning into a puddle of slobbering dog talk for weeks thereafter.

he's still got plenty of puppy energy!

• Puppy love doesn’t have to involve a puppy.  Bentley is about a year and a half old, and fully trained is a great thing. He doesn’t chew the furniture or bite, and he’s grown out of some of his puppy energy.  He’s just the right balance of playmate and lap dog. 
• Rescue dogs are fully vetted.  Not in the “really, he’s a great guy, my friend’s friend knows him so you should date him” kind of way.  I mean they’ve been to the vet. Bentley’s rescue organization had him neutered, gave him his shots, started him on heartworm medication, and they do whatever is needed to make the dogs healthy and ready for adoption. 
• There are a LOT of dogs that need homes, and a LOT of rescue organizations trying to find them. We searched Petfinder to find dogs whose profiles seemed to fit what we were looking for, and each dog we applied for was in the care of a different rescue organization.  I suspect that these organizations vary somewhat in process and in quality, but all are motivated by the very noble desire to save these animals from unpleasant conditions and likely death, and find them loving homes.  The organization that rescued Bentley is Furever Angels Animal Rescue, and we are (fur)ever grateful to them. 
• Rescue isn’t free.  The adoption cost covers the expenses of transporting dogs, spaying and neutering, vet bills, medications, food, and whatever else comes up.  Bentley was extremely well cared for in his foster home, where his foster mom bought him clothes (!), toys, and most importantly loved him. The cost of this? Priceless. Anything you pay is a bargain.
• About the fostering. I don’t know if every rescue agency does this, but the ones we spoke with do. After they are rescued and vetted, the dogs are placed in foster homes with real families, so they can be loved and cared for individually, and the rescue organization can assess their personalities…and in turn, assess the families that apply for adoption.  Bentley’s the perfect dog for us because his foster mom knew we’d be the right family for him.

OK, that’s the end of my mushy tail (couldn't resist!) of puppy love. Really, I promise the next post will be more traditional crafty mess.  But for now, a warm little dog and a sweet little girl are ready for a bath. Together.

He IS the perfect dog for us.

Craving more crafty fun? Check out additional posts of A Crafty Mess over at Charlotte Parent. Or stop by my Etsy store, Made by Mommy.  Or better yet, leave a comment here...I'd love to hear from you!

I’m Not Leaving Facebook in Charge

The other day, a friend posted a funny story on Facebook about a thing their kid had said, and I laughed and made a comment.  Another friend posted first photos of her newborn son, still in the maternity ward.  Within an hour, there were over twenty “oooh, so sweet, just look at that little nose” swoons. And then it hit me: is Facebook the new baby book?  Has it become the central repository for all the memories that families a generation ago carefully pressed and preserved in treasured bound albums?  What happens if Facebook goes the way of MySpace or the Palm Pilot or Beanie Babies?  And is anybody curating the giant daily brain dump that is Facebook?  I mean seriously, here’s what my posts typically look like:

STATUS UPDATE: does anybody know how to cook a chicken?

STATUS UPDATE: hey, look at this chicken in the oven!

STATUS UPDATE: hey, look at this chicken on our plate!

STATUS UPDATE: Sure was good chicken

STATUS UPDATE: My kid just lost her first tooth

STATUS UPDATE: who’s going to do all these dishes?

STATUS UPDATE: What’s the going rate for tooth fairy payouts?

See? The only part worth reading is buried. I’m thinking Facebook needs a really ruthless editor if it’s going to be the keeper of memories.  Right now it’s a hoarder’s overflowing scary attic. And I don’t trust it to be around forever anyway, so I’m not taking any chances.  I know what I’m grabbing in a fire, and it isn’t a laptop.  OK, I’d try to grab my laptop, but it wouldn’t be first.

Breakfast of birthday girls!

Amelia turned five this week, and if you know me at all you know I’m a sucker for rituals.  Mother’s Day pavers, first day of school photos, meatballs on New Years Eve, cake for breakfast on your birthday, and absolutely, positively, extensive documentation of every birthday, in many forms.  Concrete, non-virtual documentation. This year I picked Amelia up from school early just to get it all done.

 

First, there is the photo.  Amelia was born on December 5, and for her entire first year we photographed her on the 5^th of every month with a calendar and a baby instruction book, to show the date and how she’d grown. EVERY MONTH.  At the end of the year I put them together in a frame and hung it up.  Now we take the photo only on her birthdays, still with the same props. And years of working with museums has taught me that if you’re going to put a date on something it had better be accurate – so this photo can ONLY be taken on her actual birthday. 

Which leads to the next birthday project. A photo book. I take a lot of pictures, whittle “a lot” down to the best 50 or so, add witty captions, and send them off on the 5^th  of each month to family and friends. And yes, I even post the album on Facebook.  Every month. But like Facebook, I can’t trust a photo sharing site to be around forever, so each year on Amelia’s birthday I curate the year’s photos even further, into a hardbound photo book that Shutterfly so nicely produces for us. Digital photos, printed right onto real paper. It’s a wonder of technology.  Anyway, this book includes the annual calendar and baby book photo, so it can’t be created until Amelia’s birthday…and in a stroke of excellent timing, it makes a great holiday gift for the grandparents.

Every year we also make something together. We started with handprints on tiles when she was one and two, and then we moved on to drawing and writing on tiles, which hang as a backsplash in our kitchen, carefully signed and dated for posterity.

And this year we added a new ritual – a birthday interview. Many thanks to my friend Kristen over at Motherload Blog for turning me on to this one, and from whom I stole most of these questions.  And to her friend, from whom she stole them. See, the internet isn’t all bad!

Without further ado…Amelia’s Five Year Old Interview

Me: If a genie would grant you only one wish, what would it be?
Amelia: To be a happy family forever (awwww….)

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Amelia: A mommy (double awww….)

Me: Do you want to get married when you grow up?
Amelia: Yes, of course I will

Me: Do you want to have children?
Amelia: Yes

Me: Do you feel different now that you are five?
Amelia: No

Me: What is your favorite color and why?

Amelia: Rainbow, because it's my favorite color.

Me: Who is your best friend and why do you like them?

Amelia: Becca, Samantha and Nicole because they play funny games

Me: What do you think about world peace?
Amelia: Ummm, I don’t know about that

Me: What is your favorite TV show?
Amelia: Peppa Pig

Me: What do you like to do in free time?
Amelia: Go to the playground!

Me: What is your favorite thing about yourself?
Amelia: I get to be whatever I want and I always calm down

Me: What is your favorite song?
Amelia: Happy Birthday! And Ariel’s song

Me: If you could have any super power what would it be?
Amelia: To trap bad guys

Me: What is your very favorite thing to do?
Amelia: Projects with mommy all the time

Me: What is your favorite thing about me?
Amelia: We get to do projects together

Me: What is your favorite thing about Daddy?
Amelia: He does not do what girls do

What’s your favorite thing about Bubby?

Amelia: She’s listening  (Bubby is my mother, and she was indeed listening.)

I hope you enjoyed the interview in this potentially fleeting virtual format, but I’ll also be printing them in this year’s photo book.  You know, in case this conversation ever happens:

Jeff:  Hey, remember when people used to blog?

Me:  Yeah, didn’t I have one?

Jeff:  Yeah, you used to post those birthday interviews.  What was Amelia’s favorite color when she was five?

Me: I don’t remember.

Jeff: I don’t either. But I’m sure you had a blog.

 

I love birthdays.  Don’t trust them to Facebook.


Craving more crafty fun? Check out additional posts of A Crafty Mess over at Charlotte Parent. Or stop by my Etsy store, Made by Mommy.  Or better yet, leave a comment here...I'd love to hear from you!