Battling my Braided Octopi- overcoming fear and failure and becoming a Linchpin.

I learned how to make them in Girl Scouts.  It was the late 70’s and “arts and crafts” were H.O.T. My first one was cobalt blue, red heart. I carefully divided and braided and wrapped the yarn lengths over a styrofoam ball. I wrapped and tied each leg.  I added googly eyes and a tiny, yarny smile.

I fell in love with my little creation. I took it to school.

Everyone at school fell in love, too. With my little, braided, beribboned- octopi.

“Can you make me one?” “Me first!” Suddenly, I was popular(ish). At least, I had something everyone wanted.  Which is pretty much the same in fourth grade.

“Sure, if you pay me.” I replied.

Shocked, that they said they would pay me….I started taking orders.

The excitement ignited an entrepreneurial spirit, I didn’t know I had.

Ca-Ching! I could barely count the quarters because of the dollar signs in my eyes. I had a hit on my hands. Kids wanted them.  Teachers wanted them.  Suddenly, I wasn’t just a 4th grader.. I was a business woman!

It never crossed my mind to figure out how much it cost me to make them. Or, how long it took to make each one.  I did not ask my parents if it was ok to start a little business.  Oops.

The first few were fun. I made them instead of doing homework. (Who needs to study when you’ve got you’re own business?)

The 4th and 5th were white acrylic and boring.  After that? It was beyond boring.  It was punishment. I completely lost interest.  Every couple of days I’d fill an order.  Everyday a customer would complain about the wait.  I started to think about taking the cash and running off to Cuba. I feared being called down to the principal’s office to be busted by the FBI, for my ponzi scheme. (I was using money from orders to buy the supplies for the next one.. I was in the red. Math?  Not my strong suit.)

The truth is, some people never did receive their octopi. Including a teacher, MR B. (Who happened to called me: Spacey Tracey, from 4th through 6th grade. Related? possibly. I don’t remember refunding any of the money.

It’s been 30+ years and those octopi still haunt me.

They dance through my dreams, beribboned tentacles, taunting me.  Their tiny mouths mocking: “You can’t come through with the goods… don’t start what you can’t finish. Remember us?  You still haven’t finished….think of all the people you let down..”

I hear their voices each time I sit down to write. Especially the formal book proposal. It’s not just octopi that I hear-  it’s every failure to deliver, that I’ve ever experienced.  Their voices are cacophony of insecurity. A choir of accusation.

“You can’t. You didn’t. You won’t. Don’t try.”

This week, I read Seth Godin’s new book: Linchpin.  In it, he asks: “What keeps you from shipping?” (Shipping: Delivering the goods, moving forward toward a goal.) For me, delivering  means completing or hitting send on a proposal or submission. The first thing I thought of was those googly-eyed, acrylic octopi. They keep me from shipping.

Those un-fulfilled orders hold me captive, 20,000 leagues under the sea of failure and fear. Not in their itchy, scratchy braided tentacles.. but in the fear of failure that they’ve come to represent. They’ve held me back from trying.

But not anymore. I will not be kept from what God has planned for me by acrylic octopi. I am moving forward. I am letting go of the past.

I am shipping.  Because I can.  I will make a difference.

Do you have Braided Octopi taunting you?  Are your past failures mocking you and entangling you in their tentacles?

It’s time to cut yourself loose. With forgiveness and with faith. Not in your own abilities… but in the God who has a plan for you.  A plan to make a difference. A plan to ship something special from his heart to yours. Something for you to share with the world.

It’s time to deliver. It’s time to make a difference.

We can do this. If we stop looking behind, learn from the past and try.

Go ahead- cut yourself loose. it’s just yarn.

Questions for you:

1. What is your Braided octopus?
2. What can you learn from it?
3. What is it keeping you from “shipping?”
4. What will you do today, to move past those tentacles of fear and failure?

I’m writing.

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:12-14

PS aren’t you surprised I drew no parallel between braided octopi and leg hair?  (Until now) Let’s just say: If  summer never comes… and I keep wearing pants… I could start a new business.. by fall. just sayin…:P

 

Mommy Myth Busting Day’s 4&5 Working for the Weekend?

Barking. Saturday morning, I woke up to barking.

At 7:00 am.

I suppose in comparison to the 5:15 am, I’ve been getting up at, this was sleeping in. Kind of. But, I prefer the alarm to barking. thank you. .

Mommy Myth Busting days 4&5 showed me weekends mean something different to me as a working mom.

Typically, I get everything possible,  done during the week. That way,  the weekend is scheduled ”down time” with my family.  Of course, I still do laundry and dishes, child keeping (Child keeping. I like it. It sounds much more Martha Stewart-like than saying “nail trimming, backpack checking and homework supervision etc) but that’s the bulk of my weekend “work” as a SAHM.

Not so much, this week.

As a working mom, I spent the weekend playing ”catch up.” Vacuuming, loads of laundry, clutter patrol. (I swear stuff, moves on its own. And for some reason it all migrates to the same two places: the kitchen counter and the kitchen table. Maybe it’s some mystical vortex of mothering. I don’t know.)  This topped off other random errands. None of which were fun. We did carve out a few hours Saturday night for a movie and dinner date night.  But honestly?  I was wishing for my jammies and slippers the whole time.

I grocery shopped on Sunday. (I’d rather remove my leg hair with a blow torch- than grocery shop on  Sunday… not really related.. but both are equally painful and necessary.)

I battled the temptation to stay home from church this morning. I wanted to relax. Even the idea of getting everyone ready and out the door was overwhelming.

We didn’t.  I’m glad.  But I’m also: exhausted.

I forgot how much you have to cram into a weekend when you’re working all week.

ugh.

It’s now five minutes to Superbowl time and I’m looking forward to zoning out, while the guys worry about the end zone.. (It counts as family time- right?)

Things that were different this weekend:

I needed to get my nails fixed, but didn’t want to take time away form the guys. I put it off.

The laundry is mocking me and pressuring me.  (Yes, it’s personal.) I will soon, cave to its pressure-(yet again).   If I don’t, it could haunt me as part of the scenery and rogue killers in a post-apocalyptic nightmare, which would have also been inspired by our seeing “The Book Of Eli” on date night.  You know.. Dirty laundry also kind of looks like a pile of Zombies laying in wait to attack. Just sayin.

The grocery store was out of stock of everything but fruit snacks and tampons.  I swear 2 women were about to throw down over the last box of Mac and Cheese.  It’s wasn’t even THE BLUE BOX. It was store brand. Those girls were desperate. (Well, maybe I hallucinated that scene, due to exhaustion. Not sure.)

Things that were not different this weekend:

It was too short.

And that is Mommy Myth Busting Days 4 & 5…

Off to ignore a football game- more soon!

Questions for YOU:

Working moms:

1. What are your weekends like?
2. What do you “let go of” during the week, only to have to do double duty on the weekend?
3. What (home/child keeping) things do you get accomplished during the week?
4. Anything else I need to know?  Tell me girls!.. I’m tired– but listening!

 

Mommy Myth Busting Day 3: I think I can? I think I could!

I woke up before the alarm this morning.   I snuggled deeper under the covers.  Fridays are my “fun day.”  (Fun, here,  is a relative term. It means I run errands, maybe grab lunch by myself or get a coffee at the bookstore and browse. But, I get out of the house- so it’s fun, to me!) I thought I had a few extra minutes before I had to get up.

That is, I thought it was “fun day,” until the alarm clock, rudely reminded me, that I had to get up. I had to go to work today. Ugh. Before I could hit the alarm button, I also remembered that this was: data entry day. On an excel spreadsheet. that was important.

My stomach felt queasy, before my feet hit the floor. Nerves. I was afraid  the universe would implode if I screwed up. I tried to remember what Kathy, my friend and boss-du jour had told me to do.

I blanked.  “Oh well, she wrote it down, I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

Fortunately, getting ready this morning was much smoother than yesterday.

1. No one missed the bus.
2. I didn’t run anything over. (However,  I disappointed Noah, by not taking out any garbage cans.  I assured him, I’d likely hit something, sometime soon.)
3. I actually had time to fold a load of laundry and do the dishes before I left.
4. The beagle  peed on demand!

I was running early. An excellent (and rare) start to the day.

The drive to work was un-eventful.If you don’t count seeing a red bra (inexplicably) lying on the ground at my freeway exit. (Someone’s lookin’ like a fool with her bra on the ground, is all I can say about that.)

I actually was *gasp* a few minutes early! (I took a picture of the clock, as evidence for the doubters, I can hear you mocking me.)

It only took me a few minutes to settle in to my data entry job.  Once I got my bearings, looked at the notes Kathy had left for me, and took a deep breath. I started.

You know what?  I did it! It took me a few hours to enter all the data for four different sites, but I did it! (I think I did it, anyway.  I obsessively double checked each entry and saved the file, so it should still be there on Monday.)  I may have set a new record for world’s slowest data entry, but it’s done.

Data entry, surprised me. I actually kind of liked it. (It was infinitely better than dark-room uniform organizing.) I worked downstairs, in the main office. it was nice to hear office chatter.  And I even got a chance to talk to a few people. (Nice since as a SAHM, I can go for days without interacting face to face, with another adult. But I digress, today I’m a working mom!)

However, I was concentrating and trying (not to wreck the database and thus stop the universe) to do my best- so I didn’t take time to chat. (FYI- it’s a very good thing they’ve gently moved me into tasks. Today?  I’m not sure if I could have answered the phone and done the data entry at the same time. I was thankful every time the phone rang, and I didn’t have to answer it!)

I think I may have committed my first office faux pas. They were ordering pizza.. and I passed. Honestly… I felt shy and a bit intimidated, for lunch with the crew. (Weird, I know. But apparently shyness can strike even me.) And, I was hoping to get home in time to pick up Noah at the bus, so I worked straight through.  I hope I get a chance to go back and hang out at lunch, sometime.

Once finished with the data, I did some filing. Where I was reminded, once again that: HANDWRITING MATTERS. Especially on Driver’s Manifests. Hello, if I can’t read your driver number or the date, it’s kind of hard to: FILE IT, BY THAT. (sorry, a little messy handwriting rant.) As an aside: Driver’s Manifest’s are not the subversive documents that could result in governmental or cultural change, that they sound like. They are (basically) driver’s logs. Where they went and when.  They are important. But still. Not revolutionary.

Filing went well, until I dropped a pile of papers. I panicked, slightly, like a second grader who knocks over a chair.   For a moment, I wondered if I broke them. (Umm yeah. I’m keeping it real here… I seriously wondered if I wrecked the pile by dropping it.)

I picked them up and put them back in order. Duh. They are paper. They weren’t broken or wrecked.  It took me a few extra minutes to fix my mistake, but, that was it.

And then. I finished! Early!  I was glad to meet the bus today. I had no idea how hard that time between 4 and quitting time is for working mom’s. I call it the 4:00 pm effect. Worry distracted me. I worried a lot. I worried whether his big brother met him at the bus. (He didn’t, he forgot. Noah walked home just fine. He sometimes does if I don’t make it to the stop.) I worried whether he had a good day at school. I worried whether needed me and I worried if he had a snack. Yeah. A lot. Also-very quickly. I finished work around 4:45, yesterday!

I learned some things that surprised me this week:

1. If I had to work, I could. (I’ve been a little a lot, afraid that maybe I couldn’t cut it, even if I desperately had to.) This week has not been easy. We’d have to make a lot of changes at home if I worked. But, I did it. And I could. Just like the millions of moms who do it every week. Each one with her unique set of challenges. (I have 3 kids, 3 schedules and a traveling husband.)
2. I’ve always thought I had a problem with being told what to do. I discovered this week, that it’s more that I hate, not knowing what to do and needing to be told. I’d rather anticipate needs a need and meet it. I could not do that this week. I had no idea what needed to be done. I needed direction. It was uncomfortable.  But over time, I think that would improve as I caught on. (And didn’t have to be led around like a trained pony.)
3. I appreciate more and understand better, how my husband feels about work. (It didn’t cross my mind that this experiment would lead here.) Even doing things as simple and benign as I did this week, it’s hard to “turn it off” at quitting time.  (Something I get mad at him for all the time.) Also: if I worked outside the home, and he continued to travel as he does (He’s gone about 3-5 days a week and is usually in a different time zone.) it would be hard to talk on the phone, let alone see each other. I missed him. (If my tubes weren’t tied, I’d say it would, however, save us a fortune in birth control… but that’s TMI, Funny, but still: TMI.)
4. My house is still standing, even though I went to work.  True, I didn’t do everything. But I got done what needed to get done. Working helped me prioritize my tasks.
5. I could see both pluses and minuses for my kids if I worked.  They would need to be more independent. I believe they would rise to the occasion, as they did (for the most part) this week.
6. A few posts back- I used the word “day dreaming” about what working would be like. I realized this week, that more than day-dreaming, I’ve  been missing things from when I used to work. (Before kids.) Maybe I’ve romanticized the memory a bit, but it’s there, and some part of me, misses it.
7. Bonus Round: If you work straight through, without stopping for a potty break and text and drive on the way home, you could have an accident (of the soggy type) if a police car speeds up behind you with it’s lights flashing.  You might also throw your very expensive iPhone in the backseat to try and hide the fact that you were texting. You will be very relieved if they drive right past you once you’ve pulled over.

The drive home was slightly more dramatic than the drive in. oopsy.

Now- I have some questions for you! There is no way, I can really understand what it’s like for you, by working for a few days.  You’d really help me, and mom’s everywhere- if you’d answer!

please: email, comment, facebook message, or tweet me to tell me your answers!

Working moms:

1) Does the schedule thing smooth out at all once you’ve established a routine?  (Well, as routine as life ever gets with kids.) I had a hard time this week, and I’m wondering if it would get (somewhat) easier as you (and your people, big and small) adjust.

2) Tell me what you enjoy about working! I like the: interaction, challenge and the occasional pat on the back. If I were being paid, I’d have liked that, too.

3) Tell me what you hate about working! (I hated : not being there when my kids got home, being on someone else’s time schedule and working in a dark closet sorting uniforms…)

4) One of the things I think would help our mothering community is if respected each other more. I think we’d do that, if we understood each other’s sacrifices.

5) What sacrifices do you make as a working mom, and why? (for example-I sacrificed: time to myself, time to write, energy, time with my kids/my husband, some order in my house, being there for the bus stop :(and vulnerability- i’ve been pretty honest here, that’s a risk- risk is a sacrifice.)

Why?  Right now? For this project. Because I believe that we are better together.  I believe that by understanding and connecting with mom’s who are different from me, (and similar) my perspective changes and I learn.  You can make me a better mother, and I just might help you, too.

Working Mom Myths are just some of the Mommy Myths I want to bust!

If I were to continue working, I’d do so to provide my family with things that they need, (hello- next year, I’ll have 2 in college, ca-ching! This is a pertinent conversation, for us! ) Or to fulfill a calling that God has on my life. (The truth is, as I’m writing and speaking more and more, I’m am becoming less SAHM and more Work From Home Mom.)

Now- it’s your turn–working moms of the world…

TELL ME what you want me to understand!

One rule-  My blog is a place for all mom’s. I won’t allow a war to break out and mommy-bashing to begin. This rule holds for the duration… just sayin. The goal is to understand, not to argue who’s right or wrong.  Or, what’s harder or easier. Those arguments divide us. They weaken (I posit they could destroy) the mothering community.

In 20 years of mothering, and working with hundreds of moms through MOPS International- I can assure you of this: Being a mom (of any kind) is hard.  We each have a unique set of challenges, different, but equally difficult. And we cannot mother alone. We need each other.

 

Mommy Myth Busting Day 2: Huffing sharpies in a closet- or how to get high accidently, at work

When the high schooler missed his bus, I thought:  “I have it under control.” That was the last time I thought that, today.

I asked the college boy to drive him to school before he left for his 8:30 class.  When High Schooler then, couldn’t find his house-key, I gave him mine. Thinking:  ”He’ll be home before me, anyway.” I jumped in the shower, dressed and considered snorting a packet of Starbucks Via, before work.  I refrained, just incase I had to pass a drug test.

The youngest was less than cooperative, this morning. Of course. Between coaxing him to eat and a last-minute lunch change to bringing lunch  (ugh.)  and trying to get my hair dry, I must have lost track of time. I grabbed my keys  had Noah zip his coat in the car and tried to catch the bus.  I thoroughly impressed Noah by knocking over all 4 garbage cans at once as I pulled out of the driveway. (FYI you don’t save time by not clearing the rear window. Picking up garbage: wastes time. )

We didn’t make it.

“I don’t have time for this.” I thought. I decided to save time by not heading home for my purse or phone before taking him to school.  All was fine until I got home and (after picking up the garbage from the street while skating on ice in heels) remembered I’d given my high school son my house key. Epic fail. Locked out.  Garage door opener is acting weird and the keypad won’t work unless it’s above freezing.

It was not above freezing.

I felt defeated.  The wind I’d had in my sails (or maybe it was the coffee I’d sucked down in a rush) whooooshed out in a huff, as tears welled up in my eyes. (Bad mixed metaphor I’m too tired to fix- sorry:P) I was not finished getting ready and the dogs needed to go out before I left for the day.

I didn’t have my purse,  my cell phone or my house key.  My husband is out-of-state.

I could:

1) Break in

2) Break down

To be honest, breaking down was sounding pretty good. As a SAHM, part of me has always been afraid, that even if I absolutely had to work… I couldn’t cut it.  Here I was failing, on Day 2.

“Get a grip. Don’t panic! You can do this!” I told myself, really hoping the neighbors didn’t hear. (Unless they had a key. Which, they don’t.)   I walked around back, to check the patio door. To see if it was locked.  Just in case.

It wasn’t. Typically, I’d have been furious that the house was left un-locked.  Today, I was thankful.

I pushed past the barking like crazy dogs, and finished getting ready.  The clock kept ticking.

9:07 “I should make it if I leave now.”  I thought.

Then, remembered the dogs would need to go out before I left. “Ugh.”

I stood there, tapping my foot like the pee-pee nazi and the beagle refused to go.

Tick toc. 9:08 Getting late!

Explaining that I was late on my second day of work because: “I was waiting for my beagle to pee.” Just didn’t sound professional.  I brought her in and decided I’d have to risk the mess.

9:27 I pulled into work. Made it. Score!

By 9:45 I met todays task: Organize the Reliable Delivery Dungeon. I mean, the uniform closet. By light of a single, flickering florescent bulb, (good thing I don’t have epilepsy, that strobe effect could have been bad.)

I sorted, took inventory of and hung up a bazillion uniform shirts, jackets, coats and hats. (On nice plastic hangers as Holly, my boss of the moment, made clear the expectation: “No wire hangers!” ) Not in the mood for a beating..(movie reference, sorry)  I complied. ;)

In other words: I counted and put away laundry, all morning.

To be honest, standing alone in that dark closet,I felt a few tears well up. Maybe it was  the emotion of the whole morning rush, or maybe, it was *Sharpie fumes.. but I think it was my disappointment.  This was not what I had in mind. Forget the day-dream of what working might be like.  This was a nightmare.  I wondered if this job had been especially created for me because, you know..  I’m a SAHM, maybe all I’m really capable of is laundry…

Which is when, I remembered the world doesn’t revolve around me. (Funny how I usually think it does.) This was my job for the day, and I was going to do my best at it.  I’d asked to be put through the paces as a working mom, and this was it. So,(for the second time today) I got a grip, then, got down to work.

I finished after a couple of hours. And then, enjoyed throwing the empty boxes over the rail to the floor below. (Hey- it was a highlight of the day.  They made a loverly PLOP on the cement!)

I spent the afternoon: filing, compiling and shuffling, super- top -secret -spy -documents. I’d tell you what they were, but would hate to have to kill you, afterward. (Besides, I’m way too tired.) Ok, so I filed paperwork. Hey! My first promotion! Sweet!  So much better than the dungeon.

As a former homeschool mom, my ABC skillz are par. However— the drivers at Reliable Delivery have  Driver-numbers that most things are filed by. I managed to recall the number system (I feared I’d blocked it along with algebra.) and completed that task as well. (I was a filing maniac!  I rocked the cabinet! With the exception of a small paper-cut  and twice losing the same key to the Truck Driver Records Cabinet…(No clue why that’s in caps.. but since it is a  special- locked filing cabinet -I have no idea why- it just seemed fitting.) it was fairly drama-free. Score another task done for me!

Next, I was introduced to a new hot new friend. He is big and burly and built and has more copy/collate/hole punching skillz than I could ever hope to have. His name is: Mr Minolta Copier.   I know he was was hot- because about that time, I started to feel sweat drip down my back. It only took me 2 tries to figure out how to get Mr Minolta to do his copy, sort, hole -punch magic.  (sorry about letters A and B Kathy.. I had to do them twice.. oopsy) Mr Minolta and I then made 3 copies of the next The New York Times #1 Bestseller. It’s an incredible book… I felt like a ancient scribe..recording history for posterity.

Except I didn’t, and it wasn’t. It was: “The Supply Chain Logistics Terms And Glossary.” Quite possibly, the most boring book I’ve ever seen.

See?  This boring.

And so completed my second day as a working mom.

Or did it?  Because it is currently 7:24 and dinner is still in the oven.   I am still trying to capture the experience in words and I only very recently, finished cleaning the shorkie puddle I found in my bedroom. On the carpet.  With my foot. When I got home. (Hmm I sense a theme… or maybe I sense that  someone would have to be crated, if I went to work every day.)

I am: tired. I just realized I didn’t eat all day, nor stop for a bathroom break, and I am so thirsty I am tempted to drink straight from the faucet. Umm better pace myself. Tomorrow, I’ll eat lunch like a human and drink water when I need to.

FYI: I am convinced, that if I had to inventory and organize uniforms alone, in the dark, for 8 hours a day, I would poke my own eyes out with a sharpie to escape. (Just sayin.. Not a job I would choose…)

And thats what happens on Day 2 of a SAHM becoming a working mom….

Wonder what tomorrow will be like?

Tomorrow I will be working in my friend Kathy’s office. Doing data entry. I am trying not to hyper ventilate over the idea of mucking up the computer system and the universe coming to an end. I’m pretty sure it could. Or not.

I guess we’ll see— tomorrow!

side note: I have spoken to my husband for about 13 minutes total, since Monday. He’s been in California, and now Milwaukee. Between my being busy and the time difference and my schedule.. it’s been rough. If I worked like this every week and he continued to travel.. it would be hard to remember each others voices, let alone faces. UGH.

Dear Lord.. I pray that you’d use these moments to help me learn what it’s like for other moms, and to communicate it well…. I really believe we need each other.. together we could make a better world… amen

*sharpie fumes… yes…but no actual accidental (or purposeful) getting high in the uniform closet… sorry but it was just too funny a line not to use it… :P

 

Mommy Myth Busting: What’s it like to be a working mom?

Tiring.  That’s what it’s like. I was up at 5:15 to get the high-schooler out the door, and allow time for the caffeine to kick in before waking up the youngest. (A necessity. Must have caffeine, to deal with Noah.)  This is a pretty standard morning for me, when my husband travels. (Which he does, regularly. Gone 3-5 days a week is pretty typical.) Not much change there.

However- I’m not usually out the dressed, out the door and arriving anywhere by 10:00 a.m. I’m more likely: checking my email, running the  dishwasher and a load of laundry while still in my jammies, at 10:00 a.m.

Interesting things I’ve noticed on Day One:

1) As a Working mom time is as much a pressure as the demands/needs of my children. I yelled this more than a few times this morning:

“Hurry up Noah, you have to make the bus, I don’t have time to drive you to school!” Typically I’d be more relaxed about time. I can drive him if he misses the bus.

2) As a Working Mom, my cell phone chime holds a whole different meaning.  At home,  I usually assume it’s my husband, or some random text.  At work, I was afraid it was the school with an emergency.

3) Prioritizing became paramount as I headed off to work this morning. I could not do everything.  Some things didn’t get done.  There is a load of clean laundry unfolded in my bedroom.  I ran out of time. (Hopefully, I’ll remember to fold it and put it away before the bad cat decides to make it “her own.” ) I did however get dinner into the crock-pot so we will have food. ;)

4) As a working mom, I have to trust my kids more with their responsibilities, instead of my standard “reminding” (read: nagging) Such as, I had arranged for my college boy to pick up the youngest at the bus.  I had to trust that he would. He’s a responsible kid, but I’m used to reminding him.   I also had to trust that they wouldn’t kill each other in the process.

5) As a working mom I would have to make some pretty drastic changes to the way tasks are accomplished at home. Divide and conquer comes to mind…

It would need to be divided.. or I would be conquered.  For sure.

So, how was my first day as a working mom?  Good. Busy. Not exactly as fun or chatty as I would have thought. But it was nice to be around other adults for a change.  I did get to wear pants, which was nice.  But, I missed my slippers and am looking forward to taking off my bra. (The novelty of wearing heels, wore off pretty fast and a real bra to contain the girls is just not exactly comfortable. I’d rather wear my comfy but not safe for work, at home sports bra, thank you very much. )

Was it fulfilling? Well, I’m not exactly passionate about paperwork. (Well, I passionately HATE paperwork, does that count?) I am also afraid of the IRS in general (we were organizing paperwork for an upcoming audit) so I wouldn’t exactly call it fulfilling.

More like: scary (ish) boring and time filling.

The ride to work..well… after much debate, I had my husband leave my truck at the airport and I have his car for the week. Unfortunately, I woke up to 2 inches of snow.  Massive vehicle choice fail.  Let’s just say driving his car in the snow, is a little more like a high-speed ice derby, than I prefer. (Especially when I’m trying to get to work on time!)

*There were no unicorns and the only poop I saw was not in rainbow form.  (Can’t people clean up after their dogs? Like my people? Just sayin.)

(*see yesterdays related daydreaming of work, post)

I can’t wait to see what tomorrow’s like… I will have a different “boss” tomorrow… and college boy has classes so we’ll have to come up with a different game plan for the afternoon shuffle….

See you then!

 

SAHM gets a job….. (and maybe a clue…)

I’ve daydreamed about having a job.  You know, a real job. Where you wear pants (not sweats ) and real shoes (*gasp* maybe even with a heel!) and a blouse (yes I said blouse.. see it’s been a while since I’ve had a job..) and interact with adults and have tasks that can be accomplished and a time to be finished working.

That kind of job.

In my daydream, my shoes match my bag, I like my boss and they think I’m amazing and I get a raise and eventually become the boss.  Of course, I dream of being the boss everyone loves.  I envision work as challenging and fun and fulfilling and creative.  Imagine being part of a team …. and…. and….I’d have enough money to pay someone else to do my laundry  and not have to wonder how I’m going to pay for tuition and books next semester …and I’d ride a unicorn that poops rainbows, to work each day. *sigh*

Yeah, I’m sure work is something like that.

It’s one of my personal: MommyMyths. (Stories I create about other moms, based on a bit of information.. instead of getting to know who they really are and what their life is really like.)

(Except the pooping rainbows part, I just made that up.)

Honestly? I’m anxious.

I’m afraid that working moms everywhere, would love to see me fall apart, quit or fail.  It’s possible. (Hey, I imagine my own antagonists, it’s a writers perrogative and adds to the drama.) The truth is the Mommy Wars have been going on for so long, we’re ready to battle with each to the death pretty much all the time.

In my head, I imagine tomorrow (and the rest of the week) as some kind of mash-up of The Office, Survivor, Friends and Wife-swap. We shall see. We may need Oprah or Dr Phil by the time this is all played out.

Tomorrow, I’ll be going to work. yes. Work. That kind of job. A real (ish) job.  In full disclosure, I will be working for Reliable Delivery, which happens to be owned by a friend. And yes, I have several friends who work there. (It’s kind of tough to be hired temporarily for a writing project… I had to play the friends and family card.)

However- They know what I need. As close to a real mom experience as possible.

Here are the rules:

1) I wanted to experience the childcare crunch. So I requested short notice before my official start date. I start tomorrow.

What my friends don’t know is: My husband is in California. I will have to be creative to arrange child care for my youngest and transport for a sports meeting for my High Schooler. Perfect, because i think working moms face this kind of conflict all the time.

2) I asked to be put through the ringer. It’s possible they have a Marine style -crucible type work week planned for me.  Or not. I’ll give it my best.

3) I will be writing authentically about this experience.. the good the bad and the ugly. I have permission to do so.  I will be writing during off hours. But may be tweeting throughout the day, when I get a chance.

4) I know it is IMPOSSIBLE to fully understand what it is like to be a full time working mom, through this experiment. That’s where you come in!  Email, Facebook Message or Tweet me with your real-life working mom experiences!  You’re quoted story about how you’ve busted my myths- could be in my book! (In process but not yet under contract)

“Mommy Mythbusting!”

So, are you ready?

I’m as ready as I’ll ever be….

to have my MommyMyths: Busted.  (or maybe confirmed. who knows?)

A huge thank you to Reliable Delivery for providing me with this experience, and for taking a risk- to bust a myth!

Questions for you:

1) If you’re a SAHM Mom.. have you daydreamed about working?

2) What do you dream it would be like?

3) If you’re a Working mom, do you daydream of Staying home?

4) What do you think that would be like?

Email, comment, or follow me on twitter-(all in the sidebar)  to let me know!

 

mothering boys-

1. The same boys who put WORMS in my refrigerator, (tucked into the back, and then forgotten) will find bras hanging to dry in the laundry room, disgusting.
2. Boys know what mold tastes like. (I don’t want to know, how.)
3. Boys think underwear is reversible for extended wear.
4. To boys-socks that are “crunchy” but sitting on the table, are not dirty, they are being “aired out” and will be ready to wear by tomorrow morning.
5. Boys that are the size of men, may be thrown into a pool. However, they will hurt their fathers later, for doing it. (The father won’t admit to being injured, but he will be.)
6. Boys eat things after they’ve been on the floor… while mumbling something about a 20 second rule.
7. For boys, punching actually can solve problems.
8. Boys think that food is anything you can put in your mouth.
9. For boys, clean has nothing to do with an absense of dirt. Clean has everything to do with reaching a limit of desired effort. (“It’s clean- cause I’m done cleaning it.”)
10. Boys know they are not supposed to take glasses of “stuff” into their rooms.  However,they are compelled to use their “space” for experimentation.  Home penicillum production, is a favorite. It’s genetic.
11. Boys believe that creating disgusting smells  should be an olympic sport.
12. Boys may be tempted to write “can belch the alphabet” on their first job application, under “skills.”
13. Boys think one pair of shorts a pair of underwear and 2 shirts is enough to pack for a weeks vacation. They don’t need socks, they’ll be barefoot. Need something to sleep in? That’s what the extra underwear are for.
14. Boys use the area under their bed, for composting.
15. Boys throw rocks, so do young men. and old men. They also skip rocks. They also try to BREAK rocks by throwing smaller rocks at big rocks. Don’t bother trying to understand. It’s just a fact. They must do it.
16. Boys can remember every statistic for every player of every sport, but they will forget what you told them to do, as you are saying it.
17. Boys do not know what they want, when going “back to school shopping.” However they do know what they do not want. Which is:  whatever Mom picks out.
18. Boys will always laugh when someone passes gas.
19. Boys will always laugh, when someone passes gas.
20. Unless it’s Mom, then it’s “Disgusting”

Re-print- because 6 more weeks of winter requires giggles to survive….

I love my boys. I don’t understand them, but, I love ‘em.

 

Obsolete Mothering.. or not.

Hurry up. Wait. Hurry up. Wait.

My days are crazy. They vary from running at top speed: driving back and forth, helping at school, helping with homework, Cooking. Cleaning. Laundering. Rushing. In short, doing all the things a mom does… or waiting. Waiting, and waiting some more.  I find waiting equally crazy to rushing.

Waiting for my husband to come home.  Waiting for meals to cook and for the dishwasher to run. Waiting for the bus. Waiting for one kid or another to come home or for the time to go and pick them up.  Waiting. Sometimes waiting for something to do.

While I wait, I feel a niggling fear: “Am I becoming obsolete?”

Obsolete:

–adjective

1. no longer in general use; fallen into disuse: an obsolete expression.

2. of a discarded or outmoded type; out of date: an obsolete battleship.

I’m far from being done as a mother. (While my oldest is 20, my youngest son is only 7. ) I am still needed daily. But truthfully?  I am no longer needed (in a practical sense) as a mother, every single moment.

It’s in those un-needed moments, that I wonder about my obsolescence.

What happens to obsolete things?

 

She waits.

Happy news!  Lily and her new mom Elizabeth have made it home! Please continue to pray for those separated and still waiting. And for the adjustments ahead for this new family:)

I’ve never met her. I’ve not even seen a picture of her. I know about her. She’s a mother. For me- thats all it takes, to connect us.

Right now, maybe she’s patting her pregnant tummy and wondering if it was hunger pangs, or her baby’s first movement,  that she felt.  Maybe she worries about the health of both her unborn child and the toddler next to her. Maybe she worries what trauma will be remembered long after today.

For sure, she waits.

While she waits, maybe she holds the hand of the tiny Haitian girl.   They wait to finally be “officially”  mother and child, but their hearts are already one.. They wait to go home and be united with husband and new father.

As I write, they are still, at the US Embassy in Haiti. Waiting.

For paperwork.

Maybe it’s because I’m just shy of full blown OCD, or have too much time on my hands or am nosey, but the image of them waiting, so close to home but so far, won’t leave my mind.

Maybe it’s NOT because of  those things.

Maybe it’s because I’ve waited too.  I’ve been a part of the process of praying and waiting and raising funds and experiencing disappointment and excitement, while friends adopted from Russia.

Maybe it’s because I waited while friends were stuck in Russia, one document from becoming a family.

I watched as God and his people used creativity, passion and connections to get that piece of paper to Russia. I waited while a friend flew from Michigan to another state to take the papers to be hand delivered by another couple on their way to Russia, to adopt their own child.  We prayed.

I remember sitting on the kitchen floor,tears rolling down my smiling face, ear pressed to the phone listening as two little ones met over the phone for the first time.

I waited at the airport, for that flight home to arrive.

I wept as I saw a mother and child and grandparents and family and friends united.

I waited.

Much the way this mother in Haiti is waiting.

She needs help. She needs the Prime Minister to SIGN THE final paperwork.

Thats all.

What’s taking so long?  I don’t know.

I do know this, every mother matters.

And doing something, can make a difference.

What I can do, is share their story.

When I read it- I was touched. I wanted to DO SOMETHING.

I made some calls. I talked to the father.  I talked to someone working with Haiti. I sent some emails, I tweeted some people, I posted to facebook.. looking for those connections that might make a difference and end the waiting.

Will it make a difference?  I don’t know.

But it makes a difference to ME, because I know that I did what I could.

If I were there- holding that tiny hand, I’d desperately want  someone, to do something.

The sad fact is there is not just one mother waiting in Haiti with her legal, already in process before the earthquake adoption paperwork. There are 180 families waiting.

At the US Embassy, Haiti.

For paperwork.

What can you do?

Pray.

Think about your’re sphere of influence. Do you know someone who could help? ASK THEM TO HELP.

Can you share their story? Link, tweet, tell.

Dear Lord- I pray for those trapped physically and by red-tape in Haiti.  I pray that you’d make a way where there seems to be no way.  I pray that you’d renew hope.  I pray that your peace and protection would be present.  Lord I pray that you’d protect children from illegal adoptions and dangerous trafficking. I pray that you’d bring wisdom and peace to chaos.  Lord- I pray that as Lily and her new mother wait- you’d hold their hands.  amen

 

Tell me all about it! I need to hear from YOU!

Here’s your shot. I need your help with my book project: Mommy Myth Busting. (working title- could change)

I’m collecting quotes from Moms about what it’s really like being YOU. What ever amazing unique kind of mom you are.

So tell me all about it!

Here is what I’m looking for:

1) What kind of mom are you? (Mommy-type- working mom, wahm, sahm, soccermom, hockey, of different culture, crunchie granola type mom, homeschool, public school, private school, young mom, old (er) mom, alternative mom, tatted mom, mom of multiples, lg family mom, small family mom, You tell me what kind of mom you are.  (Don’t like the list?  YOU tell me.  Please don’t feel you have limit yourself to ONE type, few of us are that narrow. Give me a list  you identify with. :)

If you want to take a few extra minutes- take this poll to help get you thinking:http://www.surveymonkey.com/s.aspx?sm=X2L9wLHx_2bzle7jeIZOsNDA_3d_3d

2) What do you think people think it’s like to be your type of mom? What is it REALLY like?

3) Do you sometimes feel judged by other moms? What types of experiences have made you feel this way?

Your options:
You can post your replies here. (If you don’t mind them being public)
You can message me on Facebook.
You can leave a comment on my blog. (http://traceysolomon.wordpress.com
You can email them to me: soltrcy@aol.com
Or mommymythbusting@gmail.com

Please share this note!

*** Disclaimer- please understand this is a project in process. I do not yet have a contract for this project. However- if you share something it may be used in the creation/planning or content.

Thnx!
Can’t wait to hear what you have to say!

Oh here I’ll go first:

I’m a white suburban, sahm, who also wahm , old mom who used to be a young mom, I have a 20 yr old, 17 yr old and 7 yr old. I’m 42. Currently public schooling, formerly homeschooling and private schooling type mom.

I’ve felt judged for being SAHM, and my schooling choices.

What’s it really like? You can read the blog- its all there:Phttp://traceysolompon.wordpress.com
now- go it’s your turn!

Tell me all about it!