I know, it's been awhile since any of us has posted. We have a good reason, though - we are finally live with MomCheck.com. What a long time coming!
Starting a company is hard work. It's made even harder when it's 4 women who live on opposite sides of the City, have other jobs, and oh yes, let's not forget we're trying to be moms at the same time. In a normal world, people devote 40+ hours a week to their business. In our world, that was a combined total. Which means it took us about 4 times as long to get launched.
Our husbands and children have certainly been patient, so once we launched in early May, we all just took a breather and focused on quality family time. We're back now, ready to burst forward and help this company take off! Can't wait to see what's in store for us next.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Thursday, May 8, 2008
It’s almost Mother’s Day, and all I want is a…mop?
This will be my last Mother’s Day as the mom of one. That’s so weird! It’s hard to believe I’m about to have two kids. And two girls! Pink, purple, dolls and princesses, oh my! Last year, I read an article in Parents magazine about the things moms want most for Mother’s Day – flowers, candy, etc. The most popular item? A day off. And seriously, who among us can’t relate with that? I love being a mom. So much that I want to quit my job to stay home and just be a mom. But at the same time, I really love a little “me” time here and there. Last year, I spent Mother’s Day afternoon shopping all by myself. It was heavenly. Better than, well, anything, quite frankly. Given my enormous belly, and the fact that no more children will be coming out of it after this one, shopping is out this year. I refuse to buy more maternity clothes, since they won’t get used again (ok, they might, because I’ll donate them, but they won’t be used by me, and if I’m the one paying for them, I have to justify the money spent on them!). The restaurant I hoped to have brunch at is booked until 2pm, which is entirely too late for me to have my second meal of the day (and before you criticize my husband for not booking in time, I will say he called a full week in advance, which is very unlike him, and they were still booked!), so we’ll have brunch there next weekend when throngs of people aren’t all looking to dine out at precisely the same time. Plus, my wonderful in-laws (seriously, they really are great) are out of town, so we can’t depend on them to cook. So, I’m out of ideas for places to eat, and I can’t go spend the day shopping, and as nice as prenatal massages are, well, they’re not nearly as good as the real thing, so that’s out, too.
But then I had a fabulous idea. We’re about to let our cleaning lady go, because it’s an expense we really won’t NEED once I quit work and stay home after this little girl is born. And, while I was cleaning my tile floors yesterday, all 826,452 square feet of them (ok, that might be an exaggeration, but it sure feels like a lot!), I thought – “A MOP!” And as soon as my husband came home from work yesterday, I told him about my wonderful idea for a gift. But not just a regular mop – a steam mop. I saw an infomercial on them and I’m sold. I mean, sweet deal – I can get my tile floors super clean with just water. Water! And I can toss the cleaning cloths in the wash, so they’re much more environmentally friendly than the disposable cloths I’ve been using, that surely aren’t as powerful as steam cleaning. And now that I’ve thought of this mop, I can’t think of much else. I really, really want a steam mop.
Who’d have thought the most exciting gift idea would be a mop? I must really be a mom now.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Happy Mother's Day
I originally wrote this for my mom 2 years ago when I was a writer for ClubMom. I received so much positive feedback from other women who completely identified with it, I thought I'd re-run it here, to benefit a new audience.
Ode to My Mother
When I was a baby, my mother was my lifeline. We shared the wonder of new life together. I, in my eagerness to explore this new world and her, in her eagerness to explore this new being, formed an instant bond founded upon unconditional, unequivocal love. There is such safety, such security, in the knowledge of this love. From it, we both sprang forward into unchartered territories, eager to remain partners in this journey through life. From sweet lullabies and baby powder, to bright colors and action, we moved through babyhood at an alarming rate of speed and are left with snapshots and memories that make us both smile.
When I was a little girl, my mother was my best playmate. We shared secrets, cookies, giggles, and fun. She taught me to read and we spent hours exploring the worlds of Dr. Seuss. She showed me her love every day, in every way. It was in her hands as she guided them in the cookie dough, in her kiss when her magic mommy touch took away my boo-boos, in her smile as she watched me traipse off to school, and in her tears as she watched me grow into a young lady. I returned that show of love in my own way. It was in my macaroni necklaces, my flower bouquets from her garden, my painstaking attempts to imitate her, and my hastily-given kisses as I run out the door to play.
When I became a teenager, my mother was an enigma. She was my biggest champion, no matter how many times I tried to knock her down. I turned to her when it was convenient for me, and turned against her for that same convenience. And yet, she remained a rock – solid in her love, never wavering from her devotion, never yielding to my demands, and never daunted by the task of raising such an ungrateful being. She showed her love by her silence during my tirades, her stubbornness for curfews, her insistence at knowing my friends, her dinnertime together rule, and her understanding about the angst I was feeling. I returned this love by throwing tantrums, intentionally wounding with words, and my determination not to become the wonderful woman she knew I was.
When I became a young adult, my mother was my advisor. She gave me advice on everything from making a meatloaf to choosing a career. I moved far away, I think, in attempt to distance myself from this woman (where my most recent memories were the trauma-drama of the teenage years). And yet, this proved to strengthen our bond. The miles between us, and the time between phone calls, forced our relationship to rely not on the day-to-day details of life for communication, but rather on current events, political platforms, dreams for the future, and analysis of the past. Through this, I came to know my mother as a real person, not just my mother. I’ve been privy to her strengths and weaknesses, her hopes and desires, her regrets and triumphs. And in them, I have seen myself. I have learned we cannot run from our roots, as they are in us, and are us.
When I became a mother, my mother became a grandmother. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, but she became my son’s grandmother, and in that I see her in yet another role, another facet of her personality. I see the sheer delight in both of their faces when we visit. The unadulterated love is there, and I ache at the tenderness of it, the innocence of it. Many years, and many inventions, have come to pass since she mothered me, but the principles are still the same. She teaches me this, passes on the tidbits of knowledge. I have spent my life adoring her, loving her, repelling her, seeking her – and now, as I make my own journey through motherhood, I realize I am now being her. All the life she breathed into me, all the beliefs she instilled in me, all the knowledge she imparted to me, all the love she gave me – all of these things live on. They are in me, and live through me, and I will pass it all on to my son. Her legacy will far outlive her body.
I am on the other side, now, a mother in my own right. Sometimes I am driven to my knees by the sheer force of my love for my son. I do not know how I will possibly live up to his expectations of me. And at these time, I remember - I’ve got my mom – my best friend, my soul mate, my teacher. She taught me well, and I know I will not fail.
Happy mother’s day, mom.
Ode to My Mother
When I was a baby, my mother was my lifeline. We shared the wonder of new life together. I, in my eagerness to explore this new world and her, in her eagerness to explore this new being, formed an instant bond founded upon unconditional, unequivocal love. There is such safety, such security, in the knowledge of this love. From it, we both sprang forward into unchartered territories, eager to remain partners in this journey through life. From sweet lullabies and baby powder, to bright colors and action, we moved through babyhood at an alarming rate of speed and are left with snapshots and memories that make us both smile.
When I was a little girl, my mother was my best playmate. We shared secrets, cookies, giggles, and fun. She taught me to read and we spent hours exploring the worlds of Dr. Seuss. She showed me her love every day, in every way. It was in her hands as she guided them in the cookie dough, in her kiss when her magic mommy touch took away my boo-boos, in her smile as she watched me traipse off to school, and in her tears as she watched me grow into a young lady. I returned that show of love in my own way. It was in my macaroni necklaces, my flower bouquets from her garden, my painstaking attempts to imitate her, and my hastily-given kisses as I run out the door to play.
When I became a teenager, my mother was an enigma. She was my biggest champion, no matter how many times I tried to knock her down. I turned to her when it was convenient for me, and turned against her for that same convenience. And yet, she remained a rock – solid in her love, never wavering from her devotion, never yielding to my demands, and never daunted by the task of raising such an ungrateful being. She showed her love by her silence during my tirades, her stubbornness for curfews, her insistence at knowing my friends, her dinnertime together rule, and her understanding about the angst I was feeling. I returned this love by throwing tantrums, intentionally wounding with words, and my determination not to become the wonderful woman she knew I was.
When I became a young adult, my mother was my advisor. She gave me advice on everything from making a meatloaf to choosing a career. I moved far away, I think, in attempt to distance myself from this woman (where my most recent memories were the trauma-drama of the teenage years). And yet, this proved to strengthen our bond. The miles between us, and the time between phone calls, forced our relationship to rely not on the day-to-day details of life for communication, but rather on current events, political platforms, dreams for the future, and analysis of the past. Through this, I came to know my mother as a real person, not just my mother. I’ve been privy to her strengths and weaknesses, her hopes and desires, her regrets and triumphs. And in them, I have seen myself. I have learned we cannot run from our roots, as they are in us, and are us.
When I became a mother, my mother became a grandmother. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, but she became my son’s grandmother, and in that I see her in yet another role, another facet of her personality. I see the sheer delight in both of their faces when we visit. The unadulterated love is there, and I ache at the tenderness of it, the innocence of it. Many years, and many inventions, have come to pass since she mothered me, but the principles are still the same. She teaches me this, passes on the tidbits of knowledge. I have spent my life adoring her, loving her, repelling her, seeking her – and now, as I make my own journey through motherhood, I realize I am now being her. All the life she breathed into me, all the beliefs she instilled in me, all the knowledge she imparted to me, all the love she gave me – all of these things live on. They are in me, and live through me, and I will pass it all on to my son. Her legacy will far outlive her body.
I am on the other side, now, a mother in my own right. Sometimes I am driven to my knees by the sheer force of my love for my son. I do not know how I will possibly live up to his expectations of me. And at these time, I remember - I’ve got my mom – my best friend, my soul mate, my teacher. She taught me well, and I know I will not fail.
Happy mother’s day, mom.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
The What-You-Could-Have-Been Show for Moms
It finally happened. Instead of creating television shows for us to watch, The Learning Channel created a show for us to star in called The Secret Life of a Soccer Mom. For those of you who haven't heard of it, the premise is to take a typical stay-at-home mom and let her see what her life could have been like if she had pursued her career instead of staying home to take care of the family.
The episode I watched recently was about a mom that wanted to be a police officer and got the chance to go through boot camp!! She is in the typical shape for a busy mom, too-busy-to-take-care-of-myself-because-the-family-comes-first shape! And she had to scale a wall!! She did better than I would have but it was still a cringe moment.
The concept is interesting. To give us a chance at the greener grass on the other side. But it was bittersweet because at the end of the day, this particular mom, even though she wanted to pursue more of the career option, couldn't because of her husband voted against it.
So I ask you, does this show help us or is it a dangling carrot that we shouldn't bother pursuing?? I think I'd try it but only as a vacation from my regular life.
The episode I watched recently was about a mom that wanted to be a police officer and got the chance to go through boot camp!! She is in the typical shape for a busy mom, too-busy-to-take-care-of-myself-because-the-family-comes-first shape! And she had to scale a wall!! She did better than I would have but it was still a cringe moment.
The concept is interesting. To give us a chance at the greener grass on the other side. But it was bittersweet because at the end of the day, this particular mom, even though she wanted to pursue more of the career option, couldn't because of her husband voted against it.
So I ask you, does this show help us or is it a dangling carrot that we shouldn't bother pursuing?? I think I'd try it but only as a vacation from my regular life.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Nobody Told Me My Belly Button Would Hurt!
I’m 32 weeks into my second pregnancy. My belly button never did pop with my first pregnancy, but it seems like it’s trying to this time. Everyone talks about whether or not their belly buttons pop, but no one ever mentions that it hurts! That poor little thing stretches and grows in ways it shouldn’t, and it is less than comfortable at this point. Of all things, that’s what seems to cause me the most discomfort.
People keep asking me if I’m ready to have this baby. I’m 32 weeks along – no one wants to have a baby that early! But my stock answer as become, “Physically, most definitely. But mentally? Not even close!” I look forward to the day when the scale actually moves in a downward fashion (please, may it move down quickly!), when I can lay on my stomach on the floor to play with my daughters and when I can move around in bed without repositioning multiple pillows along with me. And of course, there is that list of alcoholic drinks I can’t wait to get to – a fat glass of cabernet, maybe a cosmo, and there’s a new pear vodka I’d love to try. All in moderation, of course, but come on! There’s a world of good drinks awaiting me!
But, oh, how far I am from being prepared mentally. You’d think that, since this is my second child, there wouldn’t be that much to do, right? Wrong. We have to put the crib back together, get the sheets washed and on it, get all of the clothes washed and put away, get the carseat and install it. It may all be little things, but the little things add up to one giant list of to-dos. And when I see a list like that, I might freak out a little. Just a touch.
Of course, the frightening part is, no one actually knows when a baby will arrive. Our daughter, Megan, shocked us coming 5 weeks early. Talk about unprepared! We had no place for her to sleep yet, the carseat wasn’t installed, we hadn’t picked a name. And I think that’s what’s getting me this time – I know what a crapshoot a due date is. So, how much time do I have left, exactly? Will I get caught up on my scrapbooking before this baby makes her arrival?
People keep asking me if I’m ready to have this baby. I’m 32 weeks along – no one wants to have a baby that early! But my stock answer as become, “Physically, most definitely. But mentally? Not even close!” I look forward to the day when the scale actually moves in a downward fashion (please, may it move down quickly!), when I can lay on my stomach on the floor to play with my daughters and when I can move around in bed without repositioning multiple pillows along with me. And of course, there is that list of alcoholic drinks I can’t wait to get to – a fat glass of cabernet, maybe a cosmo, and there’s a new pear vodka I’d love to try. All in moderation, of course, but come on! There’s a world of good drinks awaiting me!
But, oh, how far I am from being prepared mentally. You’d think that, since this is my second child, there wouldn’t be that much to do, right? Wrong. We have to put the crib back together, get the sheets washed and on it, get all of the clothes washed and put away, get the carseat and install it. It may all be little things, but the little things add up to one giant list of to-dos. And when I see a list like that, I might freak out a little. Just a touch.
Of course, the frightening part is, no one actually knows when a baby will arrive. Our daughter, Megan, shocked us coming 5 weeks early. Talk about unprepared! We had no place for her to sleep yet, the carseat wasn’t installed, we hadn’t picked a name. And I think that’s what’s getting me this time – I know what a crapshoot a due date is. So, how much time do I have left, exactly? Will I get caught up on my scrapbooking before this baby makes her arrival?
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Going Back to Work
Going back to work is one of the toughest choices to make. Consulting all the magazines and books in the world won’t make it any easier, either. Some of you don’t have a choice, some of you love what you do so much it would never cross your mind NOT to go back to work. But for the rest of us in the middle, well, it’s hard. My husband makes enough money; we could live on his salary. But I enjoy being out in the world (and having extra money), so I chose to return to work. I refuse to discuss with you that my decision had anything to do with the sheer terror and abject fear I felt at the thought of being alone everyday with just me and my baby. When his therapy bills come in 20 years from now, I don’t want to know it was 100% my fault, you know.
So I went back. And it was hard. And I survived it. And I learned that all working moms approach this differently, but feel basically the same about it. It doesn’t matter what your childcare arrangements are, either. Daycare, in-home daycare, nanny, babysitter, relative, spouse, monkeys, whatever – the first time you leave your child to go out into the big, bad world, you will be devastated to your very core. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I have the answers on how to breeze through it. But (and I’m not bragging) I was a highly decorated Girl Scout in my day and I learned a few things about survival. (And some really great camp songs, which if you think will help, call me and I’ll belt them out for you.) In no particular order I offer up to you, new working mommy, my top 10 tips for surviving your first day back to work.
1. Do not look to your husband for help. I don’t know why, I’m not a psychologist or scientist, but it’s just different for men. They’re not as freaked out about it and if you try to consult him on “how he made it through” his answer (if he has one) will baffle you and anger you and sadden you. Call your mom. She’s the only one who cares about it like you do.
2. Do not put on your makeup until you are in the parking lot at work. I don’t care if you’re horrified of the thought of your Starbucks crush (c’mon, we all have one) seeing you naked, so to speak. It is far more horrifying to spend the day with raccoon eyes, looking like Saturday morning in college.
3. Do not bring your photo album with you. You are a professional. Yes, you had a life-altering experience and you want to share. But let me be frank here, your coworkers don’t care. Do not let it upset you. They want to see one, maybe two pictures, just to be polite. Save the album for your closest coworkers and only outside the office.
4. Expect to cry at least twice. At the most inappropriate times, too. Like when calling your best client to announce your return, or in the elevator. The crying will be difficult to control and you won’t be able to explain it. Don’t try. If anyone looks at you just smile and say, “Hormones!” Trust me, NO ONE will ask any more questions after that. They don’t want to know your drama.
5. Accept that you will spend your entire day in isolation. Not purposely, but you will just feel incredible lonely and convinced that no one else has ever felt this way before you. You will be completely lost and overwhelmed. Just go with it. Smile and nod a lot and eventually the numbing will subside.
6. Call your husband just to say hi and stay connected. But don’t expect him to kick back for a nice talk-fest. He’s been back at his job for awhile now, and while he’ll want to support you, he just doesn’t get it (read #1).
7. Do not allow your feelings to be unnecessarily hurt. While you were happy and snug in your little baby cocoon, the world did go on, your company did remain open, and your coworkers continued to interact. There will be many things throughout the day that make you feel out of the loop. The new Chinese restaurant that everyone now goes to, the new guy in Accounting that holds court in the breakroom, the infamous team meeting that gets rehashed constantly. You weren’t a part of any of it, and it seems no one is going to fill you in. It’s okay. A month from now, you’ll be back in the loop. These people aren’t trying to exclude you. Again, just smile and nod.
8. Do ask for face time with the boss. Your boss, if male, will harbor an irrational fear that you have changed. You have, certainly, but not as an employee. He needs to be reassured. Spend five minutes telling him you’re happy to be back, looks like things went great in your absence and hey, you noticed the sales figures have increased. If your boss is female, she knows you didn’t change, but she’ll be marginally worried that your focus has shifted. Again, of course it has, but you need to reassure her that you’re committed to the job. And it will never hurt to tell her she looks fabulous.
9. Do bring something for those coworkers who covered for you while you were out. Did they hire a temp? If so, take him/her to lunch, bring a plant, a gift certificate, something to say thank you. Did your work get spread out to several people? Maybe bring donuts for the office, send out an email announcing your return and thanking profusely all those that made it possible for you to enjoy your time off. Acknowledge their burden. Personally, if possible. If you do it well enough, they may even ask to see a picture! (read #3).
10. Do not break traffic laws in your rush home. Your baby is there, just waiting for you. Your baby did not even begin to experience the separation anxiety that you did all day. You had a rough time, but you did it. Savor your drive home as a time to reflect on the day. What was good, what was bad, what you look forward to about tomorrow, what you look forward to when you walk through the front door. But most of all, just enjoy a moment of reflection about the new you. You’re a working mom, now. Congratulations and welcome to the club!
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
I’m Stuck
As you can tell by my screen name, I like to travel. A lot. I actually made the mistake of thinking that, since I like to travel, I would like consulting as a career. HA! That didn’t last long. There’s an enormous difference between vacation travel and business travel, and I quickly learned vacation travel is what I enjoy, while business travel? Not so much. Going to the same crappy location 5-6 days a week for months on end just isn’t my idea of a good time. And sticking this warm-weather fan in Michigan in the winter is akin to torture! So, I made the leap from traveling consultant, to consultant who worked locally (the commute was often horrid, but at least I slept in my own bed at night), to working for a travel website - now THAT is a better fit!
I have also learned, though, that I get mighty restless after about 2 months in one location. I don’t need to get away for some lavish vacation every few months, but a quick trip somewhere, even to my parents’ house, does me a world of good. I just need a change of scenery. My parents are the same way, so I come by it honestly. Although, they probably haven’t spent 2 weeks solid in one location in years, so they’re even worse than I am! But, I don’t love it when I’m not allowed to go anywhere. My doctor told me I wasn’t allowed to travel after 32 weeks. We took our last big vacation as a family of 3 when I was 30 weeks and went to Hawaii. It was definitely a good end to travel season! But, it also means I’m now stuck here. I can’t travel with a brand new newborn, so I know I’ll be stuck in the same city for at least 3 months, probably 4 or 5. It gives me the willies, I tell you. Right now, I have no travel plans at all. None! It just isn’t right.
I think there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, though. We realized last night that my husband has a lot of miles that need to be used. At the same time, we realized that, when our baby is about 2 months old, my husband will have to be away for a week. The same week when his very-helpful mom will be on a mission trip in Guatemala. What’s a girl to do? Travel! I do believe I’ll get a few plane tickets – one for me, one for Megan – and we’ll fly up to see my family. They’ve got a crib, a carseat for Megan, a changing table, even a Diaper Champ, so I wouldn’t have to pack a totally ridiculous amount of stuff, just a semi-ridiculous amount. I could go for two weeks, and get help from my parents and sister, while Megan get to spend time with her cousins AND everyone got to meet the newest addition of our family. I don’t know how I’ll do traveling alone with two small children, but if it means I can get away, I will find a way to manage. Two glorious weeks at home with my family and oldest friends – I can’t wait!
I have also learned, though, that I get mighty restless after about 2 months in one location. I don’t need to get away for some lavish vacation every few months, but a quick trip somewhere, even to my parents’ house, does me a world of good. I just need a change of scenery. My parents are the same way, so I come by it honestly. Although, they probably haven’t spent 2 weeks solid in one location in years, so they’re even worse than I am! But, I don’t love it when I’m not allowed to go anywhere. My doctor told me I wasn’t allowed to travel after 32 weeks. We took our last big vacation as a family of 3 when I was 30 weeks and went to Hawaii. It was definitely a good end to travel season! But, it also means I’m now stuck here. I can’t travel with a brand new newborn, so I know I’ll be stuck in the same city for at least 3 months, probably 4 or 5. It gives me the willies, I tell you. Right now, I have no travel plans at all. None! It just isn’t right.
I think there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, though. We realized last night that my husband has a lot of miles that need to be used. At the same time, we realized that, when our baby is about 2 months old, my husband will have to be away for a week. The same week when his very-helpful mom will be on a mission trip in Guatemala. What’s a girl to do? Travel! I do believe I’ll get a few plane tickets – one for me, one for Megan – and we’ll fly up to see my family. They’ve got a crib, a carseat for Megan, a changing table, even a Diaper Champ, so I wouldn’t have to pack a totally ridiculous amount of stuff, just a semi-ridiculous amount. I could go for two weeks, and get help from my parents and sister, while Megan get to spend time with her cousins AND everyone got to meet the newest addition of our family. I don’t know how I’ll do traveling alone with two small children, but if it means I can get away, I will find a way to manage. Two glorious weeks at home with my family and oldest friends – I can’t wait!
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