Category Archives: Motherhood

Liberated

How ironic that the very word to describe how I feel about not working is one of the best words to describe the impact of the women’s movement? I mean – how would my women’s studies professors feel knowing that the word I can think of to describe how I feel about quitting work, losing my income and staying home with my children is liberation?

I’m now five weeks into this stay-at-home gig and honestly – I can’t remember the last time I was happier. All these years, I’ve spent racing around, trying to squeeze in time for DD1 and waiting for the weekend and projecting myself into that time – and now – finally – I am a person living in the present. I used to hate all those new agey mantras about living in the present, enjoying the now – all that crap. That just wasn’t my life. I didn’t know what to think walking into this new phase of my life but it didn’t occur to me that all of a sudden, I’d finally find myself just living in the present. This notion of not waiting for another day, or tracking days until a long weekend or a vacation so I can have X number of full days with my kids – is still an adjustment. And it’s liberating. I feel like a normal person, not a crazed person.

A friend asked me if I feel like I am on an extended vacation.

Initially I was like..umm…no….because I rarely have a minute and definitely have way less “free” time monday-friday than I did when I was working. But that’s not what she meant and after a minute, I knew that. I mean – having gotten up and dressed for work for 13 years, suddenly not doing that should seem weird, right?

Oddly, it isn’t. I don’t even think about it. Last week I even took all my suits out of my closet and put them away upstairs in another closet…and for a minute…I did caress and stroke a few of my best pair of heels, but whatever, I can wear them out on a date. I don’t need work to wear cool shoes. And slumming around in play clothes and not showering every day hasn’t yet gotten old for me. I’m sure the novelty will wear off. But so far so good.

Then there is the reality of spending long days alone with two small and needy children. Even on my worst days – and trust me – there are plenty of those – I still don’t feel like firing off my resume anywhere.

So why is this? I’m well educated, I have great work experience. I even am missing the White House Correspondents Dinner tomorrow – first time I haven’t been invited in five years. And I don’t even care.  I mean – it would be my first chance to go without f’ing Bush in office and some awesome celebs. And I still don’t care.

Is working over rated? Is it as simple as that? For me, maybe. Or maybe I feel pretty fulfilled and sastisfied and proud of what I’ve accomplished professionally to this point.

In the end, though, I think it was more because of my circumstances. The option to work even one day a week from home, or work only 4 days a week – wasn’t an option with my former employer. It was scoffed at. Most everyone I know has that option. It didn’t seem like too much to ask for. I wasn’t asking to sleep with the boss’s spouse. Or slaughter family pets. It didn’t seem like a stretch of a request in this wireless day.  There were other issues with my job that left me, generally, unhappy and overly stressed out. So I think the reality is this – if I loved my job, if I even enjoyed what I was doing all those hours five days a week more than I didn’t enjoy it, and if I had been given even the slightest bit of consistent flexibility, I probably wouldn’t have left. Or at least so easily. Do I think my employer is completely missing out in not working with me on this and thus losing someone with all this experience and industry knowledge? Oh yes. Do I think they even considered that for one minute? Oh hell no, I’m not naive.  In the end, everyone is replaceable. Even someone as cute and funny as moi.

So here we are, I was a women’s studies minor in college and I am defining my new stay-at-home mommyhood and exodus from full-time working, as liberating. The sad truth is this – I think there are millions of us out there. So many of us who are really good at our jobs and who left because of archaic work circumstances. So does this mean that too many of us are leaving and therefore we won’t make it to the top to force the sea-change so that younger women will have more options and will be less likely to leave? Who knows. I doubt it. Does it mean I’m done full-time work for good? Who knows. I really don’t know.

It’s the first time I haven’t had a master plan, a strategic next move, or any clue as to what comes next – and I’ve never been happier.

And does it feel like an extended vacation? Possibly. If vacation means you are happy and less stressed out – then definitely.

Things I Didn’t Anticipate

Or forgot about….when it comes to having another baby or juggling two kids:

1. How time consuming it is to feed babies..and burp them….who else hates burping babies?

2. How much babies poop and how much time you spend changing their diapers. Seriously. Is it time for potty training yet?

3. How adorable baby laughs are because it’s like they don’t really know how to laugh. I swear baby laughter could solve world problems.

4. How time consuming it would be to lug two kids to preschool…..a half-mile trip takes me 45 minutes round trip…then add in cold rain and man is it a freaking pain. My  hair never looks good. (as if it ever did).

5. The mobile. When we had just one child, the mobile used to be what we could turn on and keep DD1 in her crib and entertained for a while longer…until we felt like grabbing her out. Not so much anymore. See – turning on the mobile runs the risk of waking DD1….and well….it’s easier to have DD2 awake than DD1 – so as much as I want to keep DD2 in her crib, I want to keep DD1 asleep more – so the musical part of the mobile – the very part that made it so useful before – is now rendered useless. Poor DD2 barely knows there is music with it – she spends lots of time watching the animals move round and round…with the music on mute. Ha ha. How she suffers.

Things I should invent:

1. Baby activity gyms and swings with cool music – not music that renders you homicidal.

2. Teething rings made for the size of a baby hand – not an adult sized hand…and teething rings that they can grip and will stay in place….I’m thinking Velcro.

3. My own Noggin channel without Yo Gabba Gabba, Blues Clues and without f’ing “Puzzle Time”

4. Bibs for feeding that stay close to the neck of a 5 month old…and therefore keep the carrot stains on the bib….not these “baby” bibs that fit my 3.5 year old. WTF. Whoever makes those obviously has never had a baby…or they are in cahoots with the makers of Spray’n’Wash.

These are my rants and observations on a cold and rainy day in MAY….not February…MAY.

OK…totally judging

So, you’ve heard me say this before and I’m sure I’ll say it again. I judge others less now. Parenthood is humbling. After having DD1, I found myself much less judgmental of other parents, in particular. Then we had DD2 and I found myself judging even less. I was suddenly that person using TV and bribery to survive a day.  I’m the gal who leaves TicTacs on top of the toilet – at the ready to bribe DD1 after she uses the facilities. Look, we all just need to get through the day. My strong opinions and convictions have really watered down.

But fear not kittens – not in all areas. It seems that in some departments, I am way more judgemental because I have much less tolerance for freaking idiots. And in this case, I am talking about idiotic women. Moms in particular.

There is a lot of talk out there about how a moms’ relationship with food  and her body plays a serious role in how her daughter views food and her body. But let’s talk instead about the relationship between mom and dad – and how that might impact the daughter and son. What brings this topic on, kitty? You ask.

Let me tell you. Because I’ve been irritated for two days now.

On Saturday, DD1 and I participated in a fund raising walk for a good cause. I wasted my breath telling DD1 how we were raising money for people with owees to help them get better. What she really cared about was wearing that super cool number across her chest. Ahh…the little things in life.

So fast forward to the walk. I was talking with one mom who I know and another I didn’t know.  We were discussing, pretty generically, the difficulties in finding time to workout. The friend and I were both saying that the only time we can get to the gym is super early in the morning. The stranger-to-me- mom started rapid firing questions to my friend:

“who watches the boys when you are at the gym”

“umm…my husband, but usually at least the older one is still asleep”

“well what happens when one wakes up – do you have your nanny come early for gym days?”

Camera pans to KT….at this point, my eyes are getting all squinty and I am shaking my head slowly in horror at this woman, wondering if it’s possible for this conversation to derail even further.

But oh yes kittens…it only gets worse.

So friend responds that usually just the baby will get up and well…her husband just gives him a bottle.

She is being remarkably non-judgmental and easy going in her responses, I am thinking in disgust. I am ready to spit venom at this disgrace of a woman.

And this other woman keeps pushing it – “Your husband can just stay home with the two kids and watch them by himself? No nanny?”

Ok – at this point, this pathetic woman is incredulous at this notion..so I wait for her to say something like “my hideous slob of a husband is totally incompetent and it’s unacceptable”

Or something to demonstrate that she realizes just how disgusting it is that she buys into this crap that she can’t leave her husband alone with two children, one of whom is probably sleeping, for ONE HOUR.

But no kittens – she seemed to find it more bizarre that me and my friend leave the children alone with the husbands.

What is happening in this world that this conversation even happened? Among seemingly normal and educated and smart women. WTF is what I kept thinking.

It was at that point that we bailed out on the walk and headed over to another festival. I couldn’t tolerate one more conversation along these lines and it was hot as hell.

Naturally I went home in a rant and dove into it with DH. His response “Man, what the hell have I done wrong?”

Ha ha. But seriously – why are there women out there who somehow tolerate and accept this notion that their husbands cannot and should not be left alone with their children? What kind of message does this send to our kids? And what kind of pathetically low levels of self-respect do these women have? And then there’s this – what do they think is going to happen if, god forbid, something happened to them. If they can’t leave their kids alone with their father for one hour at 6 in the morning, what’s going to happen if the worst happens? Have they considered how they are only hurting their kids more by perpetuating this bullshit?

I don’t really blame this ineptitude on the dads. Clearly these men are lazy as hell and totally full of themselves and the importance of their time if they believe they can’t be left alone with their children. But I blame the women for perpetuating it. For believing that only they know how to take care of their children, their husbands are incapable or can’t be trusted.

What I wonder is this – why did they have children with these men? And not just one – why have more than one?

Why, in this day and age, are women still perpetuating this absurd idea that only the mother can tend to the children. I am outraged, annoyed and judge the hell out of these women.

Muffin Top – Friend or Foe?

It’s possible that I just don’t remember, but I feel like the left-over pregnancy weight is bothering me more this time than the first go round. Who knows, maybe the first time I just figured it’s part of what happens and I’d lose it all in time. Maybe I loved my muffin top back then. Or again, maybe I just don’t remember.

But it’s really bothering me this time. Me and my MT really aren’t getting alone so well. I’ve actually lost  much of her quicker this time – more discipline and more hectic life – but these last almost 10 pounds are driving me nuts. And I feel like all I see around me are women who have recently had babies and yet it doesn’t look like they’ve ever had an extra pound on them. How is this possible? How do people return to their pre-pregnancy bodies within 8 weeks of delivery? Do they starve themselves? Can they possibly be hitting the gym for hours at a time? Or is it just me that has the problem? Does my MT just love me more?

What puzzles me most is exactly why this is bothering me so much this time when I knew what to expect?  I really don’t know.  It’s not like the MT isn’t an old friend. Or Enemy. Let’s agree that we are frenemies.

It could be as simple as I want to just wear all my old clothes without a belly hanging over – it really might not be any more complicated than that – and I generally just have less patience now.  Or maybe I’m just pissed off that people can seemingly lose all that weight because they have better metabolisms – that could easily chap a tired person’s ass.

Setting all that aside, maybe I should learn to love my MT…..she’s a tribute to the two fantastic kiddos I’ve brought into this world….or maybe we can all discuss the horrible things that pregnancy and delivery do to our bodies. Anyone who knows me knows I’m not likely to wax poetic about the beauty of life and pregnancy…..it’s much more colorful to discuss leaking pee, stretch marks and horrible droopy boobs, now isn’t it?

My OB, a mother of two herself, warned me that losing the remaining weight would just be harder the second time around. Medically, she couldn’t say why, she just knew from experience. Of course, my mom pointed out multiple times that once the balloon stretches, well, it sorta doesn’t go back. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking to parade around in a string bikini, like f’ing Heidi Klum will be able to do after she births yet another child…..I guess I can just see the merit to the post-babies mom surgery that everyone talks about.

I know I’m not alone in wanting the mom surgery. But seeing as how that ain’t gonna happen, I’ll just keep plucking away at the old MT….and try to appreciate her for what she  is until she’s gone. If she ever leaves me. Me and my trusted MT.