The Last Stop

Mondays are not my favorite. Throw daylight savings into the mix and well, a rough day follows - especially when the clock "springs forward" an hour.

Last week was too busy as usual, but I took Friday off to go to my daughter's First Grade recital, followed by a co-op in my son's preschool. It was a tightly scheduled morning, but I'm so glad I did it. I loved watching my daughter sing gloriously to sweet songs. She beamed with pride as she recited a few lines she worked so hard to memorize. She looked like a big kid.

My son smiled ear to ear as he introduced me as his mommy and helper in class that day. He loves knowing I see him play and I love that he really still loves me and isn't yet too proud to hug me whenever he feels like it. Being the parent helper in class gives me a glimpse into so much more than just my son. I get to see the other kids and how they act, I get to meet their parents and I get to see pure happiness. One highlight was a little boy asking if I was my son's grandma - it must have been the rimmed glasses (I hope!).

I kiss the baby goodbye everyday and head to work knowing fully that when I return there will have been something I missed. There are mothers I know and I am friends with who genuinely feel like their kids save the best of themselves for when they see them after work. I wish I felt that way, but I just don't. Maybe it's because I've been on both sides of the fence and I know first hand what I saw with one child and what I may have missed with another. I have come to accept that the baby prefers her dad, but when I have an extra day with the baby I milk it for all that it's worth. I can see a difference in the way she treats me in the longer, consistent span of time we spend together. It makes me work harder everyday to get to a place that spending more time with my family is an option.

I recently received a call from a colleague who asked if I'd possibly be interested jumping ship and moving to another company. The pay would be similar, but I would have more autonomy -which in my current micro-managed position sounded pretty good. But then I really thought about it and I concluded that this company is my last stop. It's not the perfect job, but no job that keeps me away from home ever will be so why bother? Every job - regardless of industry, has a downside. At least with this job I know what I'm getting. I was serious when I said two more years of this and I'm out. I don't know how yet, but I will find a way...

The Blind Backhand

An excerpt from a Facebook messaging exchange:

FIRST post on a picture:

"Wow, you look great! I'm soooo jealous!"

(For the record, I shamelessly posted a pre-third baby picture so that I could help perpetuate the cyber lie to old high school friends that I still look as good as I did in high school.)

I actually felt really good about getting this comment. It was one of my best friends from high school that I haven't seen in at least 10 years.

SECOND follow up post:

"OMG - that was you're little sister. Wow, I feel old now."

I get it! I got screwed in the gene pool! Seriously, how do you respond to THAT? Well, I didn't :-(

The Detail

I've said this before and I'll say it again, the hardest thing about going back to work is missing random moments with my kids. It might be nothing more than a funny cringe of their nose or a weird new laugh they try out just once, but it's these sweet moments that will forever mark your memory. It's these things kinds of memories that I have a painful shortage of. Kids rarely think about what they are saying or doing and they don't know how to tell you anything but the truth. I love the candid little lives they lead...

When I put my kids to bed at night I sometimes "grant" them one wish. I like sharing in what their last hope or thought of the day is. My daughter always wishes for or to be a mermaid and my son will wish for one of two things: 1) a robot or 2) for me to never go to work again and spend every day with him. My fingers are always crossed for the latter.

I can't believe my oldest child turns 7 in just a few months! Ever since she was born I've wanted to just be her mom. She's spunky and dramatic, loving and kind hearted. Now that she is in real school, I've watched just how affected she has been by her daily environment of other big kids. She's hardly a baby anymore and is quick to show us just how grown up she (thinks) she is.

A few mornings a week she wakes up at about 5:00am and quietly comes into our room and softly nudges me to scoot. I do and there is always a big sigh of relief she lets out as she finds her nook within my arms, just like she did when she was a baby. This only lasts for a few minutes as I slip out of bed to begin getting ready for work. I have to admit, as much as I don't want to be nudged this early, I wouldn't trade it for anything. Sooner than later, the early morning visits will stop all on their own.

My little boy is the sweetest and most fiery little man I could ever have hoped for. He will be turning 5 in just a few months and like his sister, I can't believe how fast the time as gone by. I didn't know I could love a little boy until I had him. After he was born, I was lucky enough to leave a job I absolutely hated. For the first time in my whole life I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. He had severe food allergies as a baby and I constantly worried about him. Even as the allergies have begun to dissipate, the worry has stayed constant. Both kids love me, but he loves me more deeply; more thoughtfully. He takes pride in knowing when I need an extra little hug that day and he always makes it a good one.

My baby, now 15 months old, has grown way too fast - faster it seems than the others before her. Born tinier than the other babies, she is our "Itty-Bitty." She is loud and happy and nothing will stop her from trying to keep up with her big sister and brother. She is full of love and quick to try and comfort others if they are upset by softly rubbing their heads. When she gets upset she crinkles her eyes and nose, pops out her bottom lip, then waits a moment before letting out a gut-wrenching cry. It's the most perfect pout I've ever seen. I really wanted this baby. My husband was content with the two kids, but I always knew we were one short so I went to battle for her. The funny thing about this is that the first person she wants most is not me, but her daddy. She is undoubtedly a "Daddy's Girl." I guess he deserves that...

I was definitely always tired as a stay-at-home mom and it was one of the hardest jobs I've ever had, but what I wouldn't do to have that time in my life back. I felt like I was really a part of my kids' lives and they mine. Now, everyday feels rushed and hurried. Why am I detailing who my kids are right now? Because I'm scared that in the crazy mix of life I'm going to forget the details of them that life is supposed to be made up of. Today's post is how I remember them right now and I love who they are.

Man Bitches

Today is just one of those days that I'm willing to say out loud "I hate my job." Sometimes the out loud is what makes it real and you spiral to a point of total bleakness. Today I don't care. Today is bleak and it is was dumping rain earlier

Nothing is really going wrong and the work load is not crazy heavy, I think I just hate dealing with the office politics. I swear, the men in my office are the stereo-typical women we hear most men bitch about. They're whiny and sulky and they sit at their desk and snivel. The size of the egos around here that need to be stroked is unnerving! I want to just start yelling at these whiny man-bitches to suck it up - god knows we women here do it ALL THE TIME! We don't bitch about our husbands, our kids are not better than everyone else's and we don't openly complain when things don't go our way!

The one constant in my mind as I sit at this desk all day (besides me missing my kids)is that I cannot WAIT to get the hell out of here. I keep putting these time stamps like, "In two years, I'm quitting" or "When I win the lottery, I'm definitely leaving" or "If my husband gets a job somewhere far away, I guess I'll HAVE to quit my job and move there." I think feeling like there is an end to this whole mess is what gets me to the next day.

Now that I've gotten all that off my chest...

I know these are tough economical times and don't mistake my discontent for being ungrateful. I am grateful to be working, but I just HATE what I do. It was only supposed to get me through college! And, here I am...still...almost 14 years later. Maybe it's leaving the kids I love everyday knowing that I'm going somewhere I just don't want to be that makes it the most difficult. Maybe if I actually had a little umph about what I do it would make a difference.

Anyone who knows me knows that one of my hobbies is perusing real estate pages for that perfect home. I love where I live now, but my house is too small and oddly laid out. It's not the home I had envisioned my children coming someday to visit with their own children in tow. Truth be told, I'm probably never going to move, but it gives my brain some candy for a few minutes. Who knows, maybe that home will come along one day and I'll be waiting...patiently.

Clairol #20

The last time I tried to color my own hair I was 16 - almost 17 and I was a Senior in high school. Of course I was confident in my skills as a first-time colorist, so I went for it and opted for the "permanent" color. The deep brown with a dash of red I was trying to achieve didn't quite come through. I was called "Big Red" for the next few months at school until I could pool enough money together to go see a professional. Needless to say, I swore I would never, ever color my own hair again.

Flash forward 16 years later to me standing in front of my vanity mirror with tweezers pulling out more gray hair than I know what to do with. "When did this happen?" "Where did my pretty, shiny hair go?" I've needed to make a hair appointment for the past month, but time and money have not reconciled. There are so many other things we need to pay for besides a salon visit. "This is stupid" I thought. I'm going to be bald at this rate if I keep pulling out all this gray!

I packed up the kids and headed out on our weekend Target run. Amongst the baby food, chips, paper towels and other household goods we save for Target, I grabbed a box of "Hazelnut" brown from the hair color isle. This was a tough one. How many shades of brown can there really be?! First I grabbed for the most expensive one at $10 a box, then I figured screw it. If I blow this I'll be at the salon anyway forking out another $125. If I'm going cheap, well then, I'm going CHEAP. I settled on the box in the clearance section for $5.99. It seriously can't get cheaper than THAT, right?

Last night after the kids were in bed and the house was picked up I slipped down the hall to the bathroom. I read the directions and the process seemed easier than I remember. I slipped on the gloves, mixed, shook and applied the messy goo to my head and hair, all the while praying that a shade of purple or red did not emerge and nothing in the bathroom would be stained. At one point I could feel my scalp beginning to slightly tingle and I was sure I should have done the "48 hour test" the box recommended because my hair was about to fall out.

Fifteen minutes later, my hair was done and still attached to my scalp. My husband did a once over with a "not bad" and we went back to our regular lives folding endless laundry. If it looked really bad, he would've told me. It's a lot darker than I'm used to. The pretty blond highlights I paid a small fortune to have done are now part of the past; but so is the gray, so mission accomplished!

This detour on my hair care is not one that I'll probably keep, but for now, it did the trick - and it was affordable! I'd venture to say that I'd do this again with no hesitation. Once the warm weather comes back and the days go back to being bright, I'll probably go back to the salon for a lighter more seasonally appropriate hair color. I've pulled my mom's hair through one of those little caps for an affordable highlight job and frankly, I've screwed that up before - so I'm OUT on this one. For now this works and I feel better about myself by covering the gray.

WWJD

Today is the day I start running in the morning. I kept telling myself that I'd do it once the kids went to bed, but this just isn't happening. By the time the kids are in bed and the kitchen gets picked up, I'm toast.

Just as my alarm went off this morning at 4:50am my baby, who has been fighting a cold, snuggled into me. I LOVE the baby snuggle; the warmth of her little body and the softness of her breath, followed by a congested pig snort were almost too much for me to abandon for a freezing cold run outside.

I did NOT want to get up this morning. But, then I thought WWJD. This can mean all sorts of things to people, and I might get some flack for this but what it means to me is "What Would Jen Do?"

Jennifer Aniston has the best looking legs in Hollywood in my (not-so) humble opinion. She's 40! No one is born with legs like this (if they are, I need to be lied to!) and I'm sure it takes a lot of work and dedication to accomplish this. As a woman in her 30's this gives me great comfort in seeing that age doesn't completely determine the downfall of your body. I know, I know, she has lots of money and trainers and no kids, and, and....who cares. She's still 40 and I'm still 33.

So, I chanted my "WWJD" and I gave my baby one last snuggle before I rolled out of bed and into my day. It was freezing outside, but now that I've officially signed up for the 1/2 marathon, I need to get down to business if I want to survive with any sort of dignity. The bags under my eyes alone were almost enough for me to throw in the towel, but I managed to throw on some offensive looking but warm clothing and I hit the asphalt.

The darkness was startling and my lungs burned from the cold air being sucked in. The way I was gasping, you would've thought I was drowning-truthfully, I probably was just a little bit. The nice thing about the dark was that it nicely hid how ridiculous I looked. At this point I'm just happy I survived.

Seriously speaking, I didn't get out of bed JUST to try and get Jen's legs. I got out of bed because I love my family. As much as I feel like I deserve a healthy happy life it takes work and they deserve to have me at my best.

Have a (YAWN) great day everyone!

Food For Thought...

I've been doing pretty good without the wheat, which is completely surprising to me. I'm also not a complete psycho about it and I think this helps. I made some pumpkin bread for my little guy this weekend, so I tasted it for quality assurance purposes and that was the end of it. I don't know if it's just wishful thinking or not, but cutting the wheat seems to actually make me feel a little more balanced - as weird as that sounds.

My eldest daughter went to a fun birthday party this weekend that had a really creative theme to it. Most 6-7 year old girl parties revolve around pink and princess. This party was a "science" party with a scientist who showed the kids different "experiments." This party is all she talked about all weekend. The birthday girl's mom is great. She's a stay-at-home mom, but maybe one of the busiest I know. If she can pull this party off, the rest of us can too if we so choose - choose being the operative word here.

Right before I dropped E off to her party, I dumped an entire blender full of banana strawberry smoothie down the front of me, my cabinets, floor, counters and rug. I had to be out the door, so I tried to confine the mess and change my clothes until I could get back home. Desperate, I quickly threw on an old sweatshirt and pants and ran out the door. I knew this mom, so I wasn't too worried about her judging me....I didn't even think about the small percentage of mom's who would though--not like I usually care anyway.

There is always one swanky mom out there who if you wanted to feel like crap about yourself, you'd seek her out. Well that mom was dropping off at the party this weekend too. "Swanky Mom" and I pass each other on occasion at school or during the summer at the pool. She always seems pleasant enough, but I've never found her to be very friendly. There are just some people you click with and some you don't which is normal and no big deal.

When you have a drop off party you never really go in, dump your kid and run. There's always usually a bit of pleasant small chat while you check out the safety of the home you're about entrust your child in before you really make it out. As I was leaving, wishing the birthday mom luck, Swanky Mom was chatting with a few moms about her new trainer and her super low body fat percentage (gag), when I heard "If you have money, there's no reason you can't be healthy and fit..." Seriously?!? Did she just say that?! When I looked back (in all my frumpy glory) I saw she didn't even realize what she said. She didn't realize that her comment was incredibly condescending and presumptuous. For the record, it's not about money - my good friend Oprah is an excellent example of this point.

The best thing about being fat before you're skinny is that you don't think like this. You know how hard it is to "maintain" and how many variables besides food and exercise contribute to being healthy. I don't just want to be skinny just to wear a bikini (though truthfully, I guess I could force myself to live with it). I want to be healthy, capable and strong so that I stay alive as long as possible so that I can see my children grow up to have their own families. Maybe I'm being petty and sensitive, but for the sake of my girls - and even my little boy, I would hope more than just money shapes a healthy life.