The Pint-Sized Tyrant

These are trying times, I tell you. My sweet little girl who, granted, has had her moments in the past, has turned into a four-year-old roller coaster ride for our family. These are the best of times and the worst of times. (My apologies to Dickens and the butchering of great writing) Some days I don't think I'll make it to five. Recently, I was describing the trials and tribulations at our house to a friend and she murmured, "pint-sized tyrant." "That's it!" I yelled with the zeal of Sally in a Peanuts episode (refer to A Charlie Brown Xmas). The house is being ruled by a pint-sized tyrant with very definitive views of what should and should not occur. It brings no end of gnashing and torment to everyday activities as mundane as using the potty or brushing teeth or clipping fingernails. A battle of wills that I know, unfortunately, I will always lose.

I'm just older and tired. Her tenacity is far greater than mine. Likewise, these "rules" apply to the placement of objects around the house. What was once a cute preoccupation and an outlet for her creative little mind has become a living space overrun with animal habitats and small creature (Fur Family anyone?) communities everywhere... not to mention the Princesses and their whole scene. And, God forbid, you move anyone or anything out of it's place. Enter, the allowance.

For my daughter's fourth birthday, we purchased a piggy bank as her gift. She is really interested in money and saving money (thank goodness that apple fell far from the tree.) So, every once in awhile she is highly agreeable to doing a little "pick-up" in exchange for a quarter "allowance." Often, works like a charm and we both feel good about the negotiations. And, although I complain, I have to admit, her imagination is astounding to me and the tableaus are amazingly cute. Who wouldn't love that the Princesses packed up all their stuff, jumped in the wooden coupe (Plan Toys) and headed out to their "camp" which happens to be a fairy pop-up book that has this amazing tree configuration at the end? Each princess gets to tuck into her own section of the tree each night at "Camp." And she is really into concepts of family and marriage so there is a constant flux of relationships and mixed families among the creatures and characters. I love it. I truly don't think I was that creative when I was younger and treasure all her insight.

And she's doing me a world-of-good regarding my potential OCD complex. You can be resentful to your husband for not picking stuff up (luckily, my husband is exceptionally indulgent to me in this matter) but it's hard to get mad at your four-year-old for her stuff being strewn about. Face it- everyone lives in the house and, from her perspective, most of the stuff isn't hers. What's the harm in having a few toys underfoot and all about? Like everything else I'm sure, one day, way too soon, I'll miss these days. Now, just tryin' to get to five...

Just Because You're Good at Something...

Every once in a while, usually at least once a year, a project dances across my desk that holds great allure. Maybe it's the money. Maybe it's the content which could be exceptionally juicy. Maybe it has a save-the-world aspect that appeals to me. Often I say "yes" to these projects and then, midway, rue the day I signed the proposal agreement. And, here's the deal: I have this saying I use quite a bit in my professional (mostly) and personal (sometimes) life:

Just because you're good at something doesn't mean you should do it.

It's pretty much the equivalent of your mother saying to you, "If all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you do it too?" It's a lesson for us all really. Sometimes it means that following what we're good at (and perhaps ignoring the obvious signs of discomfort) will take us down a path we don't want to go. Or, even worse, take us down a very familiar, worn out, torn up, much trod upon, been there-done that path. There is wonder in taking the new path. And, I must constantly remind myself because it hasn't yet become second-nature, that there is greatness to saying "no" to certain things and allowing the space for unforeseen wonders (a new project, a new client, an unanticipated life-changing experience) to come into your life.

And, inevitably, there is challenge and (gasp!) growth.

Summer Break Updates

Well, it's been some time since my last post and I decided I will call it a summer break. Yes, I took a summer break. Or something like that. Not that anything super-exceptional happened... although there was the yearly birthday trifecta (daughter, husband-- the big 4-0, nonetheless-- and mother-in-law) and a series of longer and shorter vacations.

Here's some news:

For those of you even remotely interested, I went with the iPhone. Sausage fingers... not such a problem. And, I must admit I'm in love with the apps. Oh, the apps. So, after owning it for 3 1/2 weeks I can't quite comprehend how I ever lived without an iPhone. Can you tell I'm not quite cut out for third world living? It's really wonderful! Not a single regret.

The other techno news at our house: we bought a Wii. Another how-could-we-have-possibly-survived-without-it purchase. After playing at our relative's house over Xmas and then spending a week on an extended family vacation and enjoying it as our after dinner entertainment, my husband couldn't hold out anymore. We actually stopped at Target on our way home from our trip. I think it's improving our couple quality-time too. Really. Instead of lumping on the couch together after our daughter goes to bed we now engage in sporting activitities. Golf... tennis... bowling. Although I'm not so keen on the boxing. Another great upgrade to our family technology.

So, we have engaged in our own little economic stimulus plan at our house this summer, pumping money into the economy.

Other than that, a slower summer work-wise. Haven't quite been in town long enough to get that sinking into the laziness of summer feeling, and the weather is just starting to crack the 80s this week. Not that I mind the cooler temperatures but the whole season just feels different this year. Soon onto to my favorite- fall!

Sickness (of the body and mind)

After all these years, I still haven't been able to gracefully incorporate the role of illness (mine or other family member's) into my life. I want to think I can be more Zen about it after all these years. I envy the friends I have who, when sick, hunker in, fire up the DVR and sleep for two days. However, at the first sign of a sore throat, anxiety grips me. Oh, the woe it will bring to my schedule if it becomes an illness of consequence! The schedule is like a house of cards- move one and it's all over. And, I must admit, part of this anxiety comes from the feeling of responsibility (?) and fact that, if I don't work, I don't make money. It's just the nature of my career. Along with the incredible flexibility of schedule is this fact- I'm no salaried girl.

Would that I could be like the rest of the world and just be sick. That I could just take a break knowing that I will catch up, appointments can be rescheduled, the world will not stop turning. But, yet, every time, it feels as if the world is putting on the brakes. And, let's examine the obvious: perhaps I am sometimes becoming sick to force myself to take a much needed break and slow the schedule a bit. After all the years of holistic healing and self-awareness cultivation, you would think I could just cut out the middle man, give myself a break, and not have to have the divine powers-that-be enforce that break. You would think...

For now, I continue to chant my mantra, "My health is the most important thing... Nothing is more important..." Luckily, spring is in the air and the illness(es) of the winter seems to be receding from our locale. Now to just avoid that crazy Swine Flu...

An update...

For anyone who cares, an update on my impending smartphone purchase...

Yes, four months later and I am still working with my almost three-year-old LG. I love it! It has been such a friend. And, it's not that I can't part myself from it. I was just feeling like I hadn't collected all the information in the iPhone vs. Blackberry debate. Unlike most everything else in my life, where decisions are made swiftly, this one continues to simmer. However, after engaging with both devices a bit, I'm now leaning towards the iPhone. I think I will learn to use the touchscreen keyboard. Sausage fingers be gone! And, ultimately, I think I would bemoan the lack of internet capability of the Blackberry. What's not to love about a little phone whose internet browser looks exactly the same as my laptop at home? I gotta tell you, too, after watching a friend try to connect to a website- the effort taking almost five minutes- somewhat unsuccessfully, the Blackberry wasn't upselling itself. I don't have that time to be lollygagging, waiting for my information. And those apps. The siren song of the apps. Every single thing that I refer to on the internet (most of which I won't mention here out of embarrassment) can be accessed on the iPhone. What pushed me closer to the edge of decision was, last weekend when I went out of town, I left my laptop at home. No work. All play. Then my friend canceled dinner plans. And the world was my oyster regarding dining and activity options. If I only had my iPhone, I could have been perusing to my heart's content... Rumor has it, Apple will release a new iPhone in June. So I continue to wait, in order to add to my information pile.

And what about that new Treo? $99?

The Elsewhere People

I started writing this post several months ago, so not exactly news-worthy at this point, but my commentary continues...

I found out recently that I am part of a new class of people- the Elsewhere Class. I read this in a Newsweek article by Dalton Conley, author of the book "Elsewhere, U.S.A." (January 26, 2009) Maybe my interpretation is not exactly what Mr. Conley meant, but it really fits. Let me tell you about the Elsewhere Class.

We are constantly moving between the "blended world of work and leisure, home and office." Nicely put, Mr. Conley. But that specific word- blended- implies to me that there is a cohesive melding of those worlds. Feeling more like oil and water, I can relate better to his statement that "today's professional, by contrast, is constantly dogged by a feeling that he or she should be "elsewhere"- back at the office, at the party full of potential clients, home with the kids or at a social function with the spouse." Amen to that, brother!

Will I constantly be plagued by the feeling that what I'm doing in each area of my life is either a) not the right thing for the moment, or b) never quite enough? Will this feeling diminish when my daughter is safely tucked away in school for most of the day (oh, dread and joy simultaneously!) and I know I have certain hours in which I can solely concentrate on all things work, uninterrupted?

Mr. Conley presents that in Elsewhere, U.S.A. the home is more like the office and vice versa. The lines are blurring because of less defined gender roles, income inequality (in addition to an overfed keepin'-up-with-the-Joneses symdrome), and ubiquitous availability of technology. And what do you do when the home is the office? Balance away... Now where do I sign up to work at Google? Laundry service? Massages? Free food, beverages and gym? I'm in!

Vacation After the Vacation

Disclaimer: there is a full-on whine below. If you can't stand that sort of thing, I recommend you just skip this post entirely.

Traveling is one of the things my husband and I really enjoy and our family recently returned from a nine day trip away. It was heavenly. As has been the case lately, with my daughter getting older, the trips just keep getting better. She is a champion car traveler (sometimes more patient than me) and a real treat as she embraces all our outings when away. As mundane as running to the grocery store ("There's Harris Teeter!!") or seeing the sights (this trip it was a replica of a 16th century sailing vessel which she deemed "just like on 'Arial'!"), she enjoys it all.

As is the case with most business owners, especially those working from home, the lines often blur between personal and professional time. I've written plenty of other posts about the overlaps in my life. I tried something new this trip and attempted to clear the work responsibility decks in hopes I wouldn't have a load of commitments while away. It worked! I was able to blissfully disengage from my working world, answering a minimal number of emails and spending very little time attached to my computer for the week. It really made for a relaxing getaway.

What I didn't factor in was my transition back to real life upon our return. Oy! Those first two days of assimilation were insane! On our last travel day, I checked my email at 8 a.m. No problems. When we got home at 4 p.m. that afternoon, 63 emails in my inbox. 63! Suddenly everything seems urgent. ugh. Gone are my feelings of Zen. And let's talk about the laundry. Piled to the rafters. And the cat fur balls tripping around the floor like little hamsters. Nothing in the fridge. Dirty bathrooms. Zen? Did I really feel Zen four short days ago? So now I need a vacation from the transition back from my vacation. sigh.

Squandered?

I was working at a coffee shop the other day, preparing for a next meeting, and two women came in with their young children. They looked like this was the very purposeful outing of the day, a time to get together with a friend and to get the kid out of the house. The two kids were young enough that they were just learning to navigate the whole self-feeding world, purposely putting hand-to-mouth, and hoping to catch some food in the process. Very adorable.

I had a momentary pang- did I miss the boat? Did I squander my stay-at-home days with my daughter? Did I forsake that kind of organic flow of the day for meetings, preschool, and other commitments? Have a I rushed too quickly back to the working world?

Oh, but then I remember: I had those days. I wasn't very happy. It was a little bit maddening and I felt like I was constantly searching for my higher purpose (I couldn't quite ever settle into the thought- and this is strictly for myself and not others- that the only thing I was supposed to be doing was raising my daughter, as important as it was... and still is; it's my own hang-up). And I also now remember: I still have those days. At least two days a week I am free to meet friends for lunch. And I don't have to change out of stretchy pants if I don't want to. We can change princess clothes as often as needed. And I am sole controller of our "flow" those days.

I am excessively grateful that I have had the choice, to work or stay home with my daughter. I know too many who don't have the choice and fully realize the challenge of that. I am also excessively grateful that, on most days, I have this incredible balance that feeds all parts of me.

But I just wonder some days, what would it be like to be with my daughter everyday, all day?

Just A Minute

"Just a minute" is a phrase that runs rampant through my life... and causes me no end of grief. There was a time when it used to be an innocuous placeholder- "Just a minute and I can answer your question, give you my thoughts on that, address the next issue, etc."- but now it is an encumbered phrase in my life. The first layer it carries has to do with working at home and time spent with my daughter. "Just a minute" is most often uttered when I am trying to answer a client email or some other computer-related task and pay simultaneous attention to my daughter. As in, "Just a minute, honey. Mommy needs to answer this one last email before we..." I suppose it is the equal peril of the work I do and trying to fit too much into too little time (more on that later). In that particular circumstance, the uttered phrase is followed by stabs of guilt coursing through my body, wishing I didn't have to put off my daughter a minute longer. Can I appease myself by saying it is a beneficial lesson in patience for her? She seems no worse for wear... The second layer it carries is annoyance. I am a person that prefers to execute tasks in a sequential manner. I think better- more clearly- when an issue or project is addressed in its discrete parts, from beginning to end. The constant interruptions do nothing for my productivity and feelings of satisfaction. There was a recent study that reflected that people do have less concentration and perform less well when multitasking. It does nothing to solve my current problems of having to split my day into slivers of work and home life. But it does validate my feelings on a certain level.

The last layer is the feeling of resignation. One of the phrases that has served me well as I navigate the waters of parenthood is, "It is what it is." And that most appropriately applies to this situation. Working part-time and out of my home some days allows me to be with my daughter. Having time with my daughter means that I will often be completing tasks in interrupted increments. It is what it is. There is also another kind of "just a minute," often uttered while talking to a friend on the phone, when my daughter has asked me a question or requires me to address a need. As in, "just a minute, I need to assist with the potty, help with a princess dress change, switch a DVD, etc..." Again, I feel guilty that I cannot provide my undivided attention. I like to be the friend who can listen, reflect, respond. But some days you're lucky to just get me on the phone. Period. And luckily, I have wonderful friends, most of whom (all of whom?) understand this circumstance. Every so often the irony hits me: professionally, I often counsel clients on issues of time management and life balance. But, like the shoemaker whose children have no new shoes, my own life balance occasionally suffers. I know that this is a time-limited circumstance. In a few short years I will be lamenting these days of unstructured time spent with my daughter. Until then, "just a minute" will serve me well.

Unfinished Business

Among other things, my husband got me Amy Winehouse's Back to Black (alas, no Us Weekly, but this will do) for Christmas. That was December. It's now February. Have I listened to it? No. I was made more aware of this fact by my husband who told me he listened to it the other night, after I had gone to bed and proclaimed it very good. I've walked past it occasionally and looked at it longingly, thinking, 'I really should listen to this.' But haven't. Oh, and I didn't mention that it has 'explicit lyrics' which really limits my listening opportunities.

As much as I love music- and I do; it's a centerpiece of my life- something else is generally taking precedence. First, are the available times I have to listen a CD with 'explicit lyrics' (and I'm dying to know just how explicit they are...) I usually listen to music one of two times- in the car, driving around on errands, or up to Cleveland for work. Almost always, I am traveling with my Constant Companion and little ears do not need to hear explicit lyrics right now, especially when she has a true gift for memorizing and singing songs almost verbatim. Although she is developing a real penchant for Randy Newman-- so funny to hear those sardonic words emerge from such a little mouth. I must admit, the occasional Liz Phair slips into the playlist, but we try to keep it clean... for the most part. Likewise, listening to a CD for the first time when running around town is just not satisfying. It doesn't pay proper respect to the continuity and flow that makes up an artist's vision on an "album." The only other time I regularly listen to music is at dinner which we usually eat as a family. Also not the most opportune time to listen to the edgier stuff. It's Buckwheat Zydeco, Alison Krauss, Dixie Chicks, Moulin Rouge, Dwight Yoakam, Wilco and the like.

I have other priorities during the time I am generally alone in the house. First, there is always some kind of work "thing" to attend to. Emails to answer; client notes to address; consulting projects to complete. And then there is my TV habit. As much as I love music, TV is my siren song. Recording programs throughout the week guarantees that there is always a backlog of shows to watch. And whereas my husband has his alone time late at night, that is not my preferred hour. My time is early in the morning, most mornings waking by 6 or so to have an hour or two before the rest of the house springs into action. Call me crazy, but it just doesn't feel right to listen to explicit lyrics at 6 a.m.

Thing is, I hate unfinished business, loose ends. I have a hard time with loose ends. And, on a certain level, that CD I walk by, sitting there on the stereo, is unfinished business. Maybe I'll be able to listen to Amy Winehouse when I go on one of my twice yearly road trips with a friend... Or perhaps it will have to wait until my daughter is older (14? 15?) at which point I still won't be able to listen to it because then I will need to be a role model for her. sigh... I will mostly likely be listening to Amy when the album is considered a classic, if it ever achieves that status. And if it doesn't? I probably will have wasted a lot of angst on nothing. Story of my life.

Who Needs Another Kid?

I haven't introduced you to the other members of our cozy family- the cats. We have two: Rufus P. Kittykins, the Mayor of Kittytown, and Candace (Candy) P. Kittykins. Adorable... when one isn't responsible for their care, feeding, and entertainment.

The winter is an especially challenging time in regard to our furry family members. Both are indoor/outdoor, enjoying the benefits of both. When the temperature plummets, the Mayor becomes a complete wimp about setting foot outside. It's quite theatrical really. He stands at the door, tap, tap, tapping with his paw to be let out (my husband and I imagine him saying, 'Hello? I'm waiting. People, I'd like some attention here. Can anyone hear me?') We open a door to let him out. He shivers. Shrinks back. Cowers. Looks outraged that we would even consider allowing him to go outside. And he turns and heads back to warmer environs. But it doesn't end there. He is not content to be merely indoors. He now must be entertained. There is a constant lament, following me around the house and, God forbid I sit down. Then, he jumps on my lap, thinking my only concern for the afternoon or evening is to administer various spa treatments.

Candy is slightly less demanding. She will still go outside in snow and colder temperatures. She prefers to be outside. However, when inside, her demands are even greater. We think she was separated early from her mother (both cats were strays my husband "relocated" and adopted during a move several years ago) and has certain habits that indicate that. One is that she kneads and drools excessively when on one's lap. And I mean excessively. You could drown. So there's a cleanup factor there. And, because she is outside so often, she has very dense coat of fine, fine hair. And it sheds everywhere. It's the kind of hair that floats through the air, choking you.

Others have asked why not invest in a cat door so that the cats can let themselves in and out the hundred or so times the whim strikes daily? No can do. The complicating factor is that we live on a ravine, home to various forms of wildlife (deer are walking through as I write). Raccoons have become our new cat friends. We have a sun porch where we leave the door cracked open so the cats can come and go- eating, sleeping, and taking refuge as needed. We once left the door open past dark. Next thing we knew, Rocky and the Kids had moved in. Although incredibly thoughtful- they actually unroll the cat food bag, retrieve food, and re-close it- it creates a kind of cross-species mayhem. So that door must always be closed at dusk. And we are resigned to being slaves to the cats. Many days, I think they require more care and attention than our daughter. She, too, has learned to answer to their whims. If she only knew how to turn door knobs a bit better...

So, really, who needs to have another kid around the house when there are these other family members to attend to?

Some days...

Some days I wonder why I even do this juggling act.
Some days I think the things I do or the money I make are hardly worth the effort.
Some days it feels like two steps forward, one step back (at least it's forward motion...)
Some days I wish my daughter could dawdle through her morning- every morning- to her heart's content.
Some days I feel like I would be a more gentle parent if we had fewer places to be.
Some days it just feels complicated.
Some days I'm just exhausted.

And some days it works.
Some days I make a difference in a client's life.
Some days it's like a well-choreographed ballet.
Some days I notice how much my daughter loves the time she spends with her Grammy and Papa.
Some days I'm so proud of how independent she is becoming.
Some days I notice we get along better when we spend some time apart.
Some days the work I do gives me great joy and satisfaction.
Some days it feels easy and right.
Some days the balancing act is all worth it.

Some days...

Damn Groundhog

Damn groundhog. Saw his shadow again. If anyone can remember a year in recent history when Puxatony Phil hasn't seen his shadow, can you please comment? He's so adorable, but really. We hold onto this false hope every year. Maybe this is the year... Two more weeks of winter, instead of six? Could we be so lucky?

Winter this year has been unkind. With snow/rain showers starting in late October, then ice in November and December, and snow- endless snow- in December and January. An added insult has been the number of client appointments I've had to cancel because of bad weather. When I don't work, I don't make money. But so it goes. I cannot control the weather (nor should I even attempt to try).

So I curse Phil. But he's so damn cute also. I can't disassociate thing real thing with the one depicted in Caddyshack. Diabolical but so cute!

The sun is out today and it is predicted to be in the upper 30s/low 40s this weekend. For that, I am thankful. But six more weeks? Really?

Guilty Pleasures

You all have them. C'mon. Admit it. Most people in my life think I'm pretty serious. Maybe even a little too serious sometimes. But I, too, have some guilty pleasures that are anything but serious. My pleasures...

I love Us Weekly magazine. I tried desperately this holiday to try to get my husband to buy me a subscription. I even had a whole budget-friendly campaign, pointing out to him that I was even willing to accept the lesser substitute of OK Weekly. Nothing doing. And my "hints" were like a Mack truck plowing into a Smart Car. So I continue to buy intermittent copies or rely on my wonderful friend who provides the occasional hand-me-down copy.

Solitaire on my iPod Nano is like a drug. Truly better than any psychotropic I could even consider taking. And it's like gambling because you play it for fake money!! So close to being in Vegas (but not quite). So, at first, it was the lure of building the bank that was the carrot. Now, after achieving 26,000 "dollars" it is more about the crazy challenge of seeing those cards flip into place. It soothes me. I can sit in the middle of a family tornado, the Princess Tea Party DVD playing for the millionth time, and I might as well be on a mini spa break. ahhhh... And my husband brought this probably never thinking I would develop an addiction. Again, a tribute to his go-with-the-flowiness.

The Bachelor has started again. I am not a reality TV person. I have never cleaved onto the American Idol phenomena. I think most situations depicted on reality TV are just painful to watch (Beauty and the Geek excepted which has a wonderful redemption theme). However, The Bachelor and The Bachelorette hook me every time. At first, I am mystified by the premise- what type of person would engage it that kind of competition? Then I get sucked in every single time. And, ultimately, I care about these people! I get vicarious satisfaction out of the fact that Mary and Byron are still together; I know exactly why Deanna and Jesse didn't make it. Jason is back and looking as good as ever. ABC. Monday night. 8-10:00 p.m.

Ultimately, these are all escapes from my usual life and responsibilities (more on that in a later post) which can be both the best of everything and a bit tedious. They allow me to suspend reality for a while. And, after all, don't we all need that? What's your guilty pleasure?

A Warm Hug

I have finally joined the Facebook revolution. My husband got me started. Well, actually, a friend of ours got him started and I was then so impatient to get news of mutual friends that I also started an account. Little did I know what I was getting into.

I naively thought it would be similar to LinkedIn, on which I have a somewhat stagnant account. I check it once in a while; every so often, I go on a flurry activity, inviting new connections and checking on the old... and then let it sit for another month, or two, or three. I know I am not leveraging it for all its charms. But I have used it for my clients to make connections in various fields. It is a nice tool but somewhat benign in my life.

But Facebook- oh, Facebook! How could I have missed out on this for so long? I joined on a Sunday afternoon. In first searching for friends, I came across and accessed the usual suspects- known friends from where I live now and high school friends with whom I still keep in touch. However, less than 12 hours later (who am I kidding?? Some starting to pop up a mere 2 or 3 hours later) friends from all eras of my life started to crawl out of the Internet. Less than 24 hours after being a member, I even got an email from one of my brother's friends, trying to track him down.

I was momentarily stunned and overwhelmed. And more than a little freaked out by the sheer responsibility of keeping up with all these people. Part of my problem in life is that I am bit too constrained by social conventions (it's part of the 1950s housewife thing I mention in my first post). I will answer your email within 24 hours; I will try my best to return your phone call the same day you call me. But what to do when there are 15 messages in my inbox reflecting all the activity- comments on my wall, new posts, invitations to join clubs- that requires, in my mind, some kind of response? I soon became acclimated to the culture of Facebook and the use of the quick message. Visit Facebook for 10 minutes; visit it for 3 hours. It works.

It has been more than a little fun. And very addictive, which everyone warned it would be. Our high school was a very clubby bunch, friendships often transcending cliques. With a graduating class of close to 700, it was as if you had a "home base" of your immediate group of friends but also had adventures and connections with the other groups in the outfield. Bad baseball analogy but you get what I mean? Reconnecting with that feeling of inclusion has done me no end of good. It simply reminds me of part of who I am; part of who I sometimes don't choose to or get to exercise on a regular basis now. I have also really appreciated learning who people are as adults. We made it! We grew up! We're surviving and, as far as I can tell, happy in the world of adults! My greatest Facebook joy has come from reconnecting with one of my closest friends from high school who I haven't seen or heard from in almost 20 years. And she lives in Baltimore, which we drive through several times per year. And she has a daughter who is almost the same age as mine. Who knew, after all these years?

Let me not forget my new friends: I really treasure having a more casual way to get to know the thoughts and details of the lives of some of my new friends. Most (all?) I have met through some kind of interaction with my daughter. Chasing after a toddler and making sure the playing kids don't tear apart someone's house is not exactly conducive to meaningful, intimate conversations. We try, but really. So Facebook allows for us to have some adult "conversation." I have learned so much and have found an even greater appreciation for those friends. I look forward to learning more.

Mostly, it reminds me more than a bit of all the good things about living in a college dorm (and there were plenty of bad- shared bathrooms and one telephone line for the whole hall?? Seriously?? Yes, I am that old). Someone is always online, a friend to talk to. Someone, new or old in my life, always understands what is going on in your life and usually has a little bit of camaraderie or levity to bring to the situation. Someone is always introducing you to new things. One of my most recent favorites? I just joined the group "Not now, mommy's facebooking..." The invitation sent to me by a high school friend who, even though I haven't seen her for close to 15 years, I can still picture exactly how she is saying that to her kids.

Facebook, it seems, is a warm hug. I know, it's a little Precious Moments. But couldn't we all use a warm hug- a safe place- like Cheers, where everybody knows your name?

Where Has All the Spirituality Gone?

I have a keen interest in holistic health and am very interested in spirituality, especially Eastern ideals. It brings calm and balance to my life. It makes me feel good. My husband seems to think Buddhism might be the next stop for me after I started wearing a bracelet last year that is engraved with a Buddhist concept, "Be still and know." Catholicism to Buddhism, it's a veritable spirituality tour.

However, I find it increasingly difficult to incorporate this kind of practice in one's life when trailed around by a three-year-old. Besides the obvious challenges of lack of quiet ("Mommy, what book are you reading? What is that smell? What are those pretty cards? When can we watch my princess DVD again?") and a myriad of tasks involved in the care and feeding of said child, I have been rewarded with a kid who keeps almost identical hours as I do. In fact, in some cases, she stays up later than me chatting in bed and I wake to her little voice in the morning. She's perfectly delightful but I find it a challenge to have to get up at 5:30 or 6 to have some "me time." You might be thinking, why not include her? I do. She loves my "52 Relaxing Rituals" cards and she experiences some aromatherapy on a regular basis. But, c'mon, we all know it's not the same. I am fortunate to have time to myself for other activities- errands, work, friends, a good book- but this one piece has not been resurrected yet.

Prior to having a child, I had time for contemplation and growth. There was continuity to that time. It helped me to become the person that was able and ready to be a wife and mother. I somewhat mourn that dedicated time for growth. But I know it will come again. Even now, every year that my daughter grows older and she is more independent (just how we want her!), I know that, soon enough, there will come a time when I am sad because she is doing here own thing completely. But, for now, can I please get an hour here and there to flip some medicine cards or work on some growth goals?

Blackberry vs. iPhone

The time has come when I need to incorporate some new technology into my life. I am now working on the road enough, away from reliable wifi, that I need to start thinking about having better access to email etc. My current phone- an LG- is a pretty basic model. It's a phone, first and foremost, and pretty limited in its functions. But it is a friend and constant companion who has served me well. I remember when I first brought it home. It felt so technologically advanced. How soon things change.

So now I'm shopping around. My husband is a diehard Apple consumer. "Consumer" isn't quite the right word because his devotion transcends a mere purchasing of products. Of course, he has an iPhone. I use it occasionally when we are traveling. It really does have everything. I love using the browser, the nav system, and all the fun apps that have been downloaded (by the way, my career advice to you: if you want to make your millions, start creating an app for an iPhone). But, because of the price and the monthly access fees, I really didn't even consider it an option.

Then, over the holidays, I saw an ad for a Blackberry. Okay, I have to admit, part of why that little device looked so appealing is the cool frosted pink color which is one of the options. I started checking out the Curve and realized that I could get one for what seems to me a more affordable price. Let the comparison shopping begin!

Heading to Verizon, where I am currently a customer, I previewed the various options. I know I want a Qwerty keyboard and nothing too flippy. I know I need something I can grow into. I really like the features and look of the Blackberry. I like the fact I can synch my iCal and contacts to a Blackberry. The only thing that seems to be missing is the super-cool web browser that, on the iPhone, looks like I'm sitting in front of my computer screen at home. But, my goodness, the fees! Huge disappointment hit as I realized the monthly access fee is most definitely not in the cards right now.

By default, my husband is an AT&T customer. I have mixed feelings for AT&T based on some incidents in the early 90s. But, at this point, I might need to ditch my beloved Verizon and go on a family plan at AT&T. Then, it might be affordable. And AT&T has a good red color if I go with the Blackberry. So off I went to AT&T. There I encountered the lovely Justin. What a nice man! He patiently hung out with me for over an hour, answering my questions and even seeming to enjoy the experience at some points. Great customer service. Even better, he and I did a little digging and discovered the Curve that I might really want- the 8900. Currently only available in Canada, it has all the good Curve features with the upgraded browser of the Bold. This might be it! So I wait until February for it's alleged release date. The best news? My husband and I can have joint plans on AT&T whose total price will be equal to or less than what we're paying now.

In the meantime, the comparison shopping continues. I have until March to decide. Ultimately, I don't think I'm quite enough of a grownup for an iPhone. With the pricetag, I keep having these visions- nightmares really- of dropping it and either having to replace it or downgrade and, at that point, I'll be inextricably tethered to its charms. About that touchscreen: I just don't think, right now, I'm a touchscreen kind of girl. I have sausage-finger-itis with the iPhone. I'm told it will improve with use but what if it doesn't? Those little raised keys feel so much more natural to me. And the fingerprints. Oh, the fingerprints. I find myself obsessively wiping the iPhone. Do I want to be tied into that kind of care and feeding? All highly scientific factors, I know.

The over-thinking continues...

Falling Off the Wagon

Okay, let's be real. There wasn't much of a wagon to fall from. I've never been a huge fan of organized exercise. I'm not a person to jump off the couch and embrace the prospect of a nice long run or a bike ride miles long. My tennis partner (yes, tennis is exercise I can enthusiastically buy into- fun, good exercise, I have some aptitude for it) every once in a while tries to convince me to take a cardio tennis class with her. Tennis is hard enough without trying to purposefully inject more cardiovascular exercise into it. I keep telling her she's trying to make me into a better person. Not interested.

There was a time when exercise was different for me. I used to go to the local Y and do the whole Stairmaster, Nautilus, sit-ups thing. I met a great friend at that gym. Then, after a particularly bad time in my 20s, exercise was my salvation. I'd plug myself into a Walkman and walk, walk, walk for miles around my neighborhood. I've never been much of a traditional meditation practitioner and this was meditation for me.

But, these days, it seems like exercise gets pre-empted by everything. Literally everything. Last year, I told myself that when my daughter was in preschool two mornings a week I could get it together to exercise at least the Thursday morning. I went to the gym a total of two times. Two. And the home routine lasted all of about four weeks.

I was okay with my fair-weather exercise "plan." Until the great Wii incident of 2008. On a holiday visit to family, my husband and I had the opportunity to engage in the merriment of their new Wii. Golf...bowling...tennis, we did it all. And we also tried out the fitness modular which, for those of you who aren't familiar, weighs you (check!), figures your BMI (check! ideal, by the way), gives you a balance test, and assigns you a Wii Fitness age. What was my age? 55! Yes, 55! I was horrified. I did flunk the balance test- I'm not exactly known for my grace- because I went first and had no idea what to expect. Horrifying! I generally feel about 23 or 24. Sometimes the body feels like its closer-to-reality 40 years. But 55?? Doubly horrifying since my husband clocked in at 34.

So I'm back on the fitness trail. I can't wait until tennis season begins again. Or the snow melts and we can bike to the park. Thank goodness for a friend/personal trainer who put together a routine for me last year which can be accomplished in about 15 minutes in front of the TV. I'm dusting it off after a 7 month hiatus. And I did go to the gym last week, Nano plugged in now instead of Walkman. And I consider snow shoveling to be one of the few perks of the winter season. Until April, I'll try. And then gladly (joyously!) pick up my tennis racquet again and keep fending off invitations to cardio tennis.

The Half and Half Day (aka Split Personality)

Mondays are interesting days around here. Since I am both mommy and business owner there is a good deal of overlap of lives on a daily basis. Emails to answer while preparing meals or changing princess clothes; proposals written while Dora plays in the background. But nothing quite represents these different roles in my life- my split personality- like Mondays.

Monday mornings are 100% kid time, filled with Toddler Gym, Gymboree, play dates and other such kid events. But all needs to be wrapped up and we need to be headed home by 11:30. It is then a whirlwind of lunch, costume change (sometimes for both of us), and naptime. Literally, my heart races and it is a game of beat-the-clock to get to nap before the sitter arrives. Because we all know what happens if that isn't accomplished. The sitter is fun; too much fun to miss out on by doing something silly and useless like napping.

As I pull out of the driveway at 1:30, hoping I don't have random food particles stuck to my work attire, I breathe a sigh of relief. Because, as much as I love my daughter and my time with her, I love working too. In the 5-15 minutes it takes me to drive to meet a client, hopefully the transformation is complete and I am now in consultant mode.

I arrive home by 5 and then it's back to super mommy status. There are stories to hear about what has happened in the last 3+ hours. There is dinner to prepare. But, I'm still in my "work" clothes and there are still emails to answer. Worlds collide! Split personality Mondays...

Whole Foods Fantasies, Part 2: Counterpoint

My husband went out with a mutual friend the other night. They both decided, among other important topics of conversation (most extolling the virtues of the iPhone) that, if they were both living alone again, they would

1) have no land-line for phone and
2) not pay for TV and only use the Internet.

So, there you have it.

Whole Foods Fantasies

I was walking in Whole Foods the other day, cruising the snack aisle, when I looked over and saw this woman with one of those half carts. You know the ones- for single, unencumbered people and old people who apparently don't eat enough to qualify for a large cart. In the interest of full disclosure, I , too, had one of the half carts but I had it because I was planning to pick up a total of three items in ten minutes, shopping in between other errands before I was expected to return to my family unit. Anyway, I saw this woman and glanced down in her cart. Tortillas... some cheese... a few pieces of fruit... a couple of cans... two containers of yogurt (not industrial size). Ahhhh, a single person. Boy, did it take me back. I was slammed with this just-yesterday feeling of Carefree Saturdays. I capitalize those words because they deserve that importance. At the time, and you don't know it at the time, those are moments to be treasured. I remember when I was single, living alone, a typical Saturday entailed one of two plans:

Plan A- a nice, long walk in the morning, followed by some planning of what kind of yummy food to cook for dinner (which, on a Saturday night, was a meal often savored in front of a good movie), followed by a trip to the grocery store, followed by maybe a nap, movie, or good book... or all three.

Plan B- a trip to the farmer's market (often on my bike) or the grocery store, an afternoon of made-for-TV movies, maybe a nice walk at the local nature center, an evening with friends, maybe an art opening or something.

Ahhhh, freedom. No responsibilities (to be addressed in a future post). Choices that can move with the wind. But life is all about rosy colored glasses, no? And I often think about my satisfaction level/happiness quotient would be if I was, 10 years later, still living out Plan A or Plan B. I venture to say it would have gotten old. And I have traded Carefree Saturdays for bike rides and playground trips and Pancake Sundays and "Mommy, I like you."

But a girl can still have her Whole Foods fantasies...

The Back Story

I am a now almost 40-year-old with a husband of five years and a daughter of three. I came to this whole family adventure in a timeframe some would consider late. For many years there seemed to be some doubt- mine and others- whether I would a) find "the one" and b) have the interest to make it stick. In fact, my mom- a pretty serious Catholic- got to a point in my dating life, when my relationship with my future husband got serious, and she started saying things like "Don't worry about the order. Kids... marriage... it can all just happen how it needs to happen." The point is, I was no child bride. But the fact that I've made it this far is a testament to my husband who is really wonderful and a gem.

I spent most of my twenties figuring out who I was and how to live with that person. I liked it but it did have some drawbacks- lack of companionship, I was solely responsible for taking out the garbage, I liked vacationing with someone, going to all my friends' weddings alone was getting to be a real drag. I met my husband. He was and is pretty fantastic and perhaps the only man in the world I can live with. So, now, I've spent most of my thirties figuring out how to adjust to being a wife (and that's a whole other story- my struggles with independent ideals and some weird ingrained 1950s housewife mentality) and being a mother. I had no doubt that I wanted a child (notice the singular- more on that later) but, regardless, I looked down at the stick that said "pregnant", I looked up at my husband, burst into tears and said "What have we done?!" The next 18 years seemed liked a yawning chasm.

The last piece of the puzzle... Did I mention I own a consulting business? On a daily basis I help individuals and organizations make decisions for their lives and futures. I seem to have some kind of gift (vision? I'm not going to take full credit for it because the clarity is something that is truly intuitive/6th sense-ish). Thus, the Super Mommy moniker. It's juggling act of home, work, friends, life. Isn't there some way it can be easier? Will I be sleep deprived until I retire, when I will then have an acute case of insomnia and not sleep anyway? Some days I am on top of the world, a balanced efficiency machine. Many days (most days?) I feel like they are misadventures and I am hanging by a nail. And a not-so-manicured one at that.

So it goes, my misadventures...