Ordinary vs Extraordinary

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I woke up today in quite a dreadful mood - not sure why exactly - could be the lack of sleep this past week due to nothing in particular or it could be this nagging sore throat. In any event, hopping outside in the downpour to grab my mail only further exasperated my mood. There is was, a disappointing response to my recent letter to the Smith Quarterly:

"Regarding a letter writer's plea for greater representation of Smithies who have embarked on "new jobs as stay-at-home moms," let me suggest that the Quarterly is the wrong place to look. While becoming a mother is the most truly miraculous thing, it is also the most commonplace. What Smith prepares us for is something else- to make our unique contribution to this world. The Alumnae Quarterly is the place to read about the jaw-dropping, amazing things Smithies are doing to make the world a better place. It's inspiring - if often a bit intimidating (we aren't all destined to swim the English Channel or find the cure for something - myself included). In the lightening flash of twenty years, which is what it will feel like when the letter writer has successfully launched her children into adulthood, she will be glad if her only job was not "stay-at-home mom" - and the readers of the Quarterly will be fascinated to read all about it."

Now, my initial response was quite emotional - I felt like this lady had personally belittled my current full-time position as the CEO of my family. I was sad and my feelings were hurt. Then, I just got mad.

I was unaware that raising children to be respectful and creative citizens of this world was not a "unique contribution." Perhaps, I should have just kept on working at Goldman Sachs, dumped my children in daycare and hoped for the best. Affordable childcare that reflects my values, encourages creativity and boosts my children's confidence as human beings just does not exist where I live (again, I said affordable). I suppose that if I had continued to work, I surely would have relished those oh-so-productive Monday morning meetings or skipped my way home knowing that I helped very wealthy people make even more money. I definitely would not have regretted not watching my children learn to walk and talk and blossom into little people - I mean, how unsatisfying. Plus, raising children has got to be the easiest and most "commonplace" job. She did, however, raise a point that I had overlooked - I was unaware that being a stay-at-home mom lasts for "twenty years" - I guess being home while my kids are young and then going back to work when they head to school is not an option.

My point with my initial letter was to reach out to the Smith community and see what other mothers (it is an all women's college after all) are doing to raise their children. I agree that the Quarterly is inspiring - there are thousands of out-of-this-world successful women who have amazing lives to share - but what about the other women who are helping to raise the future generation? I am sure there are no "unique" upbringings happening - no traveling or living in foreign lands, no living off-the-grid on a homestead, no creative ways of bypassing the "system" and certainly no ideas for creating impressive and different learning environments.  The world is constantly changing - so what are we doing to foster children who can adapt to this change? I figured having gone to such a prestigious college, there would be a handful of extraordinary and progressive stories.

Well. I guess I will just go back to reading Glamour and eating bonbons on my couch.

Parenting in France

I have always been a fan of France - I have traveled there extensively and lived there once - so I am always interested in hearing about their culture and way of life. Parenting is no exception. It is fascinating.  The WSJ published a wonderfully interesting article written by an American mom raising her kids in France. Now, having lived with a Parisian family in France during college, I have my own opinions on the school systems and the like, but this notion of "educating" rather than "disciplining" is something I can hop on board with. Apparently I am not the only one - I just placed a hold on the author's newly published book, Bringing up Bebe, One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting, at my local library and I am number 104 in line. It was published yesterday! Now that is what I call some solid demand.

Booties and Babies

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I thought the girl was supposed to be the gentle, nurturing one and the boy was supposed to be the one making fart jokes in the back seat of the car? Did my kids get switched up in the universe somehow? Ok, ok, not fair, the boy doesn't even walk yet not to mention few recognizable words leave his cute little mouth so I cannot be sure that he won't become a dirty icky boy someday. My sweet little girl, on the other hand, it seems is skipping the whole princess-pinkalious-phase (I hope, I pray) and going straight to the raunchy/indifferent teenager phase. (Please note, I have little to no experience in any of this so I could be far more wrong than I hope to believe. I mean, this girl isn't quite three yet so we have many years of princess playing to come...maybe)

This week she thinks it's hilarious to pull down her pants and put her bare ass on you (doesn't matter where...arm, leg, face) and shriek "booty on you, booty on you!" and run away sounding like a jacked up hyena. She will drop her beloved baby (and we have many, so yes, the stereotypical girl play is there after all) on the hard, cold pavement at the drop of a hat if the mood suits her and thinks it's "cool" when Daddy slams on his brakes to avoid hitting an elk in the middle of the road. She is not attached to anything in particular - no special snuggies for bedtime, no special treatment to one baby or stuffed animal over the next, no favorite dress or shoe or hat...so I worry that she is missing her sentimental bone. Maybe it is just her age. Or maybe I should not worry about it at all as it makes it a hell of a lot easier to deal with when you realize that you accidentally forgot her Madeline doll at home as you board a plane for a week's vacation.

In any event, it is time for me to hit the hay. So the worrying will have to wait until tomorrow's booty attack. Bon nuit a tous.

Fourteen Simple Steps

My friend Chris, posted these tests from BabyCenter. Read them. Seriously. Just do it. They are hilarious. I was reading these at the lodge this weekend and caught myself laughing out loud enough times where the two guys sitting across from me started giving me funny looks. 

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Follow these 14 simple tests before you have children:

Test 1 – Preparation

Women: To prepare for pregnancy:-

1. Put on a dressing gown and stick a beanbag down the front.
2. Leave it there.
3. After 9 months remove 5% of the beans.

Men: To prepare for children:-

1. Go to a local pharmacist, tip the contents of your wallet onto the counter and tell the pharmacist to help himself
2. Go to the supermarket. Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office.
3. Go home. Pick up the newspaper and read it for the last time.

Test 2 – Knowledge

Find a couple who are already parents and berate them about their methods of discipline, lack of patience, appallingly low tolerance levels and how they have allowed their children to run wild. Suggest ways in which they might improve their child’s sleeping habits, toilet training, table manners and overall behavior.

Enjoy it. It will be the last time in your life that you will have all the answers.

Test 3 – Nights

To discover how the nights will feel:

1. Walk around the living room from 5pm to 10pm carrying a wet bag weighing approximately 6-9 lbs, with a radio turned to static (or some other obnoxious sound) playing loudly.
2. At 10pm, put the bag down, set the alarm for midnight and go to sleep.
3. Get up at 11pm and walk the bag around the living room until 1am.
4. Set the alarm for 3am.
5. As you can’t get back to sleep, get up at 2am and make a cup of tea.
6. Go to bed at 2.45am.
7. Get up again at 3am when the alarm goes off.
8. Sing songs in the dark until 4am.
9. Put the alarm on for 5am. Get up when it goes off.
10. Make breakfast.

Keep this up for 5 years. LOOK CHEERFUL.

Test 4 – Dressing Small Children

1. Buy a live octopus and a string bag.
2. Attempt to put the octopus into the string bag so that no arms hang out.

Time Allowed: 5 minutes.

Published!

Hi there. No, I did not forget you - we just took a little trip to Ketchum, ID for the holidays. But, more excitedly, I was published in my alumnae magazine! Page 7. Sooo cool.

Here is the longer version:

Reading the Smith Quarterly gives me a certain level of pride but sometimes an equal amount of frustration. I feel so blessed to be a part of a community where there is a seemingly endless amount of inspiring careers and accomplishments to fan over. But in the past few years, as I have embarked on my new job as a stay-at-home mother, I cannot help but feel a tinge of underrepresentation. Where are the Smithies that chose to forgo or stall their career in order to raise a family? What are they doing to enrich their children and how? I know they are out there. They must be! I cannot possibly be the only one.

The Glow

The lastest post at The Glow is really beautiful and I think it is my favorite so far - she seems like a great balance between a creative force and a nurturing parent. I like that she shared a bit of her birth story too and that she had her baby at home! Yay for home births! It's hard to talk about home births and wooden toys and the like without sounding pretentious but she sounds so nice about it and honest. It's refreshing.  

"At this age, I don’t actually think she needs that many toys. She’s happiest with the either her red rattle, a bottle of water, or a box of tissues. If I’m trying to get dressed, I just pop her on the bed and give her a box of tissues and it buys me at least 15 minutes. I really like crocheted or wooden toys for her. They’re old fashioned, pretty, and have been working for years, so why change it up and get flashy plastic toys."

Motherhood

These are funny - from HuffingtonPost

Family Fridays: The Family Bed

Ok. I get it. It’s more fun to sleep with another person in your bed – it’s warm, it’s not scary and it’s comforting. But, sweetie, you have to sleep in your own bed. What? Why do Daddy and I get to sleep in the same bed? Um…

How do you answer that one? Gotcha.

Sebastien James - A Birth Story

Some folks like reading other people's birth story - I am one of them. I think they are fascinating.  Herein is mine for my second child:

My first born was almost a week early so naturally I expected as much from the second. I was soooo eager not to be pregnant anymore.  Despite the fact that during my first pregnancy we completely gutted our home and embarked on a major remodel whilst living in our westfalia camper and in our friend’s guestroom, this pregnancy felt, well, more tiresome. I’m sorry to say that I didn’t thrive in this pregnancy like I did during the first. I was tired more, my joints ached earlier and it seemed to go on forever. So when the due date came and went, I was beyond impatient. I was doing everything under the sun to get labor started but this kid was in no rush. I wanted to respect that but I just could not – I was too eager to get going, meet my new baby (was it a boy or a girl?!?!) and shelf the yoga pants.

TGIF

This is my morning so far.  Care to join me? No? What? This doesn't look like fun to you?

Oh. Ok.

I guess having your toddler get in to the pantry drawer and spread out some dry red beans, split peas, barley, cous cous and rice on your kitchen floor at 10AM isn't everyone's cup of tea. She was attempting to sweep it all up though. Need to work on those skills a little it seems.

Have a lovely weekend!

Testing the Boundaries

My aunt asked all the women in our family to write a little something for her daughter as she embarks on the path to adulthood.  So here is what I wrote to my tween cousin:

My favorite story to tell people about the beauty of childhood stars you as the main character. You were maybe 3 or 4 years old and we were all gathered at the grandparent’s house is West Seattle. Dinner was taking a little longer than expected so you wandered over to the pool’s steps, innocently sitting on the ground with your feet dangling in the pool water. As dinner was called, Jann asked you to please not get in the pool now and to come to the table. You declared that you were simply sitting with your feet in the water; you were not getting in. A few minutes later and again Jann is asking you to come over for dinner and to not get in to the pool. By now, you were sitting in the pool, on the first step, so just your legs submerged in the water. You repeated your declaration that you were in fact not in the pool, just your legs. Another few minutes and you eased yourself one step down so that you were now up to your waist. We were all busy serving out dinner so didn’t think to ask you again to come to the table but Jann was watching you and I could see the wheels in your head spinning. A few moments later, we all heard a gentle splash and a soft giggle. You had indeed hopped into the pool and you immediately looked up at your mom, knowing that you had now clearly acted against her wishes. Instantly, you protested, “I didn’t get in, I fell in!”

Scatter on the Brain

When did I become so scatter brained?  Was it the toddler or the second child that pushed me over the edge?  I REMEMBER being on top of my game: never late, always early, mostly showered and stylishly dressed, bills paid on time, dinner served every night.  The other day my friend asked me to hold his cell phone while he chased after our toddlers in the water at the beach.  When it was time to leave I could NOT find his phone anywhere near where I had been, sitting no less (watching my infant), even though I had SWORN I had put it in the zippered pocket of the Ergo.   After a fruitless search in the general sandy area where I had sat, I was on the verge of tears from frustration and utter embarrassment that I was not responsible enough to hold on the a freaking cell phone for 20 minutes when 3 girls came up with the missing item. PHEW!  Saved by fourteen year olds.  

Hey, someone has to have their head on right.

Motherhood to Me

 Improvising

 Chubby Arms, Chubby Neck, Chubby Thighs