Double Lives

Several years ago I did a pretty unscientific survey.  I was in the job market having recently returned to the country from a stint abroad and feeling pretty optimistic about my future.  I was trying to transition from law firm to "anything but a law firm".  So I did some temp work and started my search.  At this point I only had one child - Princess.  After a very short time I landed a pretty good job - at a law firm - but was generally happy to be employed (so I didn't complain).  An interesting side bar - at the end of my job search, I had two offers.  Both offers were from firms where I did not mention the fact that I had kids during the interview.  I did not get any offers from firms (or even academic institutions) where I mentioned my daughter (even in passing).

Flashback ... when we were graduating from law school, a friend who just had her first son was talking about the interviewing process and she commented that you cannot talk about your kids during an interview.  Back then, childless and not even married, I replied - if you can't tell a prospective employer about your kids, then that's not a job you want anyway.

Now it's 2009 and I find myself making a new pledge - not to talk about my kids at work.  Toward the end of last year I started realizing that anytime I mentioned my kids in relation to time off etc., I started hearing references to my kids often in very patronizing ways - like "I completely understand that you have to leave early sometimes because you've got kids ... but I don't mind!" The first time - no problem, the second time, kinda strange, but by the third time, you just have to shut it down.

So I've decided in the interest of my professional development, it's better not to mention my kids.  No early pick-ups, no doctor's appointments, no parent-teacher conferences, no class plays, nothing ... nada ....  Because the sad but true reality that we sometimes live as mothers is that your boss probably does not want to hear about your kids (even when he says he does).... especially if that discussion involves a reason why you won't be doing what s/he's paying you to do. Now if you're a father, the rules change - but that's a post for another day!

Unleashed

BK (before kids) - I recall seeing children on leashes while walking with their parents through a store or mall.  Given my Caribbean roots, I recall thinking self-righteously "who on earth would put their child on a leash"?  

AK (after kids and Prince in particular) - we are leaving swimming practice - Prince, Princess, my mom and me (hubby is at class tonight).  Prince takes off, running like Dash on the Incredibles - and I'm wearing three inch heels having gone straight to the pool from work.  I can't catch him.  I scream after him, but having absolutely no sense of the danger he is in, Prince runs even faster.  I tell Princess to run after him, she obeys and catches up to him, but he fights her off before I can get there then he's off again - into the parking lot - it's dark and anything can happen.  My heart is racing, I'm terrified and he is laughing hysterically.  Did I mention Prince cost me several thousand dollars as soon as he learned to walk because we had to install a fence around our home after a few similarly horrible experiences at home?  Anyway, I finally catch him safely at the car (only by the grace of God) and I'm livid and terrified.  The entire drive home I contemplated heading to Target tomorrow to purchase a leash - Eddie Bauer has a cute "harness buddy" and I'd rather seem like an evil parent than have to even think the unthinkable.

"Me First" Sunday

So this Sunday I decided to put "me" first after my mom shared an excerpt of the Michelle Obama biography with me on Saturday.  According to the book, when Michelle was up early one morning with baby Sasha, feeling tired and out of shape, she looked across to see her husband (yes, that would be Barack Obama) sleeping soundly at her side.  Michelle then decided - at 4:30 in the morning to go to the gym only to get home and find that her girls were up and fed.  Michelle then commented that with men the order of things is: "me" first, family second, God is somewhere in the equation then there is everything else. She then correctly noted that with women, we have the tendency to put "me" fourth.

This reminds me of the decision that I made when Prince was born (almost five years after I suffered through numerous nighttime feedings, changings, burpings etc., etc., with Princess).  Much like Doree in Nemo who sings "just keep swimming", I forced myself to "just keep sleeping" when Prince woke up crying.  I thought to myself, if I just keep sleeping at some point my husband would hear the son who he adored and feel the need to care for his needs just as I did (particularly because my husband always goes into work later than I do).  And to my surprise, I was right.  My theory worked.  Night after night I listened to my hubby dutifully wake up and care for our son until it got to the point where even if I woke up to care of him, he screamed and cried and demanded his dad.  Yet, in so many other areas of my life, I find myself slipping into the "me fourth" pattern.  

So on Saturday when Princess started commenting that her body hurt (i.e. her muscles hurt) after gymnastics and swimming classes that I dutifully take her to and sit on my behind for two hours while ensuring that she gets the necessary exercise to stay fit and healthy, I decided - tomorrow, it's "me" first.  And I did it - woke up at 9:30 - headed to my hot yoga class by 10:00 then got home by noon and proceeded to be mommy again.  Of course, I felt a bit out of sorts for the rest of the day.  But today, my muscles ache ... and I can smile from the effects of "me first Sunday"!

Computer Engineer

So it's been a while since I've blogged - caught up in the holiday fever and trying to stay calm in the midst of the hell that is the private school  application process.  But the events of this weekend forced me to get online again.

Last weekend I decided that it was time to paint the playroom.  I was tired of seeing the dirt streaked walls and after all, I purchased my $5 gallon of "oops" paint at Home Depot months ago.  Enough procrastinating about moving all the toys, getting behind the piano, etc., etc., etc.  I went to Ikea, picked up some storage items, then decided to get to work.  After heading to the basement to get my painting supplies, I discovered that my hubby must have thrown out the roller after our last paint job.  It's now 9pm and my dream of a painted play room is now slowly slipping away.  But hubby offers to go pick up the roller because Home Depot doesn't close until 10pm.  I'm thrilled - I'm going to get the job done after all!  

When hubby heads to HD, I decide to do some brain quest activities with princess and prince is running around - not begging for attention, not getting in the way, just being a good little boy.  Hubby returns home about 30 minutes later with my roller - I thank him, he heads upstairs, then I hear the following: "Prince took all the keys off my computer!!!!!!!!" To which I reply: "What?"  I mean seriously, I could not have heard him right.  Because that just cannot be possible.  Then he repeats it - the agitation in his voice growing.  I fly - literally - up the stairs to the bedroom and stare in horror - no, disbelief - no, amazement - no, shock.  I've never seen anything like it - ALL the keys were off the computer and strewn all over the bedroom - bed, floor, everywhere!  Of course, hubby blamed me for insisting that the computer should be community property (and probably also for requiring him to go to Home Depot).  Of course, hubby isn't blaming himself for leaving the computer, unattended on the bed, while heading down the street.

So I spend the next three hours dutifully piecing together the keyboard on the macbook (because of course there is no way hubby can even begin to attempt this task as he won't even assemble IKEA furniture).  By 1am, we are down to seven broken keys. So I then spent the next three hours painting because I was so wound up by the night's events that I could not sleep if I tried.  Fortunately, the mac store saved my marriage by replacing the broken keys for free on Sunday morning (that's my plug for Apple).  And I'm thinking ... who wants to be an Engineer?