Second Guesses

Wednesday is the last day of school. The last few weeks have been filled with field days and muffins for moms and class picnics and in-class activities and after school activities and teacher appreciation and  theme days and just about more than I can handle on top of our regular life.

At the little guy's preschool muffins for moms a few weeks ago, a day in which I was having to sneak him out of school early to drop him home with a brand new babysitter (stressful enough) to rush back out to a working lunch meeting, his teacher's mentioned they would be moving his class end of year party to the Monday of the last week of school instead of the actual last day of school.

And then I never heard anything else about it.

So this weekend, as I prepped for the week of swim lessons and end of year teacher errands on top of planning for a week-long road trip we're leaving for Saturday, I thought about the class party. I realized I hadn't received an email about the date switch and I did not take steps to email the class moms or teachers and headed into the office today.

And of course that party was still today. And I missed it.

Now, I sort of knew that would probably happen. After all, they did make a semi-announcement. But without a reminder or a nudge or a time, well, I felt pulled enough this week and chose to ignore it.

Then proceeded to feel guilty about it when it was confirmed that I wasn't there.

I make it to 99% of all my kids' activities. Working part time has been a struggle to make that work when events inevitably fall during the same times I've allotted to be in the office and the last month has made it ridiculously stressful. I don't want to miss my children's field days and sing-alongs, but I also have a professional responsibility. It's a constant struggle to find time. With Kindergarten splash down (hello, fire trucks to spray water on my 6 year old - totally NOT missing that) coming up Wednesday and our summer babysitter not yet available for the rest of the week, I consciously chose to turn a blind eye to the three year old's end of year party so I didn't miss a complete week in the office.

Did it make me feel guilty? Yup. Will he remember? Probably not. Was his experience less because I wasn't there? Surely not. Did he mention I wasn't there? Yes. But, I do realize that sometimes I have to chose. And in the grand scheme of things, not watching my three year old eat a cupcake on his last Monday of school was the least impactful choice to make.

With all the talk of leaning in, sometimes I just need to stand up straight or I might fall over.

Working Mothers Rant

Currently reading "Lean In" and have lots to think about on the subject of the current status of women in the workplace, but came across this article and needed to share it. I actually started to simply post the article with a brief comment on the blog's Facebook page, but quickly saw the paragraphs adding up and moved over to this space. Forgive me in advance, I feel a rant coming on.

On the surface, I think this column is trying to point out some fantastic female CEOs and the successes they have achieved for their companies. Great concept, honestly, for a column. Recognizing the great work being done by women in all facets of industry can only help to provide positive role models for young women AND men, not to mention continue to make the female face in the corporate world a less unique one.

The problem with the column, in my opinion, is that it reinforces stereotypes of women in the workplace. First off, the headline "Working Mothers Can Be Great CEOs." Have you ever, EVER, read a headline or business article talking about working fathers and the need to defend their ability to be a great CEO? I mean, E-V-E-R? Second, "can be?" Speechless. Third, it proceeds to highlight stereotypical female characteristics and how these can be useful to companies.

For so long women were told to act like a man to get ahead. Now we are being told to maximize or play up our feminine wiles to succeed? Of course mentoring, collaborating, listening, offering flexible arrangements and other items the columnist points out are good for business. They would be good for a business run by a woman OR a man. They are good for male and female employees. They are good for single workers, gay workers, parent workers, older workers. They just make good business sense. And quite frankly, these attributes are probably found in the best male leaders as well as female. Because the CEOs this columnist features recognized and provided these types of solutions to their respective companies doesn't mean they are successful leaders ONLY because they are women, it means that they are intelligent, aware and solutions oriented people who have found the most effective ways to lead their companies and employees.

The hubby and I watched Tina Fey on Inside the Actor's Studio this week and she answered a question from the audience about how to navigate being a great female director in an industry dominated by men. Her answer - be a great director. Don't think about being a female director or needing to prove that you're good at it because of or in spite of being a woman. Just do your job and do it to the best of your ability.

If we could all just take a step back and stop qualifying leaders by their gender, because the only times we describe a leader by their gender is when they are female. Let's simply applaud our best leaders who create opportunities for all of our citizens, who make work accessible and who support our families by advocating flexible arrangements for all workers.

Yes, there is room to be made for more female leaders and yes, I'll have more to say about that once I finish "Lean In" and digest it for a bit. But "Working Mothers Can Be Great CEOs?" I think I need to launch a similar set of columns. How do these titles sound?

• Working Fathers Make Great Dinners
• Working Fathers Can Be Terrific Caregivers
• Working Fathers Make Housework More Effective

Presence

When I started this part time working gig, a friend told me to be where my feet are. I love this. So true. So simple. And yet, I have a devil of a time living by it.

For some reason, when I'm at work, I always remember the camp forms I need to fill out or the class snacks I need to pack and when I'm at home I'm making mental lists of the tweets that need to be tweeted or the pitches that need to be pitched. Those days when I can't seem to keep my brain and my feet in the same space are exhausting. I feel overwhelmed and unproductive. I get short-tempered. Then I load even more guilt on myself for not handling the entire situation better so I don't get to that point.

Circular? Yes. Productive? No. Frustrating? You betcha.

I recently gave up the workout class I have been participating in since the six year old was a mere six weeks old. I loved every aspect of this class - the workout, the fact my kids could come along, the fresh air, the friends I made (seriously, moms, check them out. I have in no way been compensated to say this). It was hard to say goodbye, but my kids are older. The schedule is tougher with all the increased commitments of work and school volunteering. When I hadn't made it to a class in two months, I had to say goodbye.

Needing to fill the hole, I have started going to a yoga class at our local Y. I didn't know what to expect. I've never done yoga, but was intrigued and thought it would give me something fresh to jump start a new workout routine.

Yoga might be the best gift I have ever given myself. Not only do I feel my body responding in extremely positive ways, but my spirit is lifted every time I walk out of the studio. Taking an hour to do something for myself, by myself has been revolutionary. Being able to simply breathe and be without a litany of tasks clouding my brain has given me a fresh perspective to start over those afternoons. The soft voice of the instructor, the purposeful movement, the sense of peaceful community have all done wonders to my mental space.

I am ridiculously in tune with my body - my husband would say too much so. I think I knew I was pregnant with my second child within days of conception. I could just tell. My cardiologist has agreed when he has assured me some of the issues I've presented with are extremely common, most folks just don't ever feel them. I am very concerned when something seems off in my body, which can often lead to crazy assumptions that I must be coming down with something (this is the point at which the hubby thinks I need to be less in tune with my body since sometimes an eye twitch is just an eye twitch and an achy back is just an achy back).

But in yoga, it's all a positive. It's being in tune in the most fundamental way - listening to what needs stretching, filling and emptying. Letting go of concern and simply taking a mental inventory of the aches and the pains and the good and the satisfied. Being present, focused and healthy.

So to all of you mamas out there trying to find the elusive balance, remember, it's about presence. Find something that makes you feel present. It doesn't have to be yoga, it can be a walk, a run, a hot bath, meditation, whatever makes you grounded and keeps you from thinking of all the need tos and haven't dones.

Be present. Even if it's just an hour a week. And if you're still insisting on balance over presence, come join me in a nice chair pose.

Flexing

Since last week, I've been mulling over what I want to say about the recent memo coming out of Yahoo! requiring all workers report to campus, eliminating their work from home stance.

I admittedly do not have an MBA nor do I particularly have a mind for "management." I am a communicator. I am an observer. I am a seeker. I am not a numbers person. I am not a manager, nor do I ever truly care to be one. I like working with others on a team and having a role to fulfill and a skill set to offer. I like putting my head down and working alone to put that skill set to work and create change. I like learning from others' strengths and allowing them to do what they do best.

I do not work at Yahoo! or a company like it. I do not claim to understand their culture, their specific needs for corporate change or how to fix their bottom line. I do not know if people are taking advantage, in the most negative sense of the term, of the telecommuting option or if this is simply a nice tactic to trim the personnel fat without having to make hard layoff decisions.

I do, however, work in a flexible environment.

As I've said before, I work part time and a lot at home. The company I work for is relatively small and a start-up. A lot of folks have young families. Travel and late nights and weekend events are par for the course for many and the mentality is very much see something that needs to be done? Do it.

When I started this gig, the understanding was that I would primarily work from home. It soon became apparent, as folks were getting used to who I was and what I could offer, that I show my face every so often in order to get to know everyone and experience how the business worked. I currently go to the office on days when both kids are in school - so three mornings a week. If I need to attend a meeting outside of those hours, I have often brought a little assistant with me to the office.

This face time allows me the opportunity to collaborate with colleagues, track down answers to unreturned emails and, often, have a quiet, kid-free zone to work. The ability to work from home, however, gives me the opportunity to spend time with my kids, be there when my six year old gets off the school bus and volunteer at my children's schools. Many of my tasks are writing or research related and can be completed outside normal business hours. My social media tasks have no business hours and I am able to check on them whenever and wherever.

Today's constant email, text and social contact are making the traditional 9 to 5 schedule a thing of the past. People have access to work wherever they are. I think it's unrealistic to not offer flexible work environments. I, for one, am able to participate in the economy, find fulfilling work and contribute to a company I believe in because of it. If the job required a 9 to 5 in the office schedule, frankly, I'm not sure I'd be doing it.

That being said, there must be parameters, boundaries, expectations. Flexible work environments are a lot like raising children. You want to give kids the freedom to explore, learn and take risks. At the same time, they need boundaries to still feel safe and confident. My kids always behave better when they know what is expected of them. Freedom breeds creativity and confidence in them, but inattention leads to acting out and, shall we say, mischief.

So provide freedom, but be attentive. Insist workers spend a certain number of hours a week in the office, require attendance at monthly staff/team meetings, offer events/seminars/learning opportunities that get people together. Sure, it might be harder work for management to enact boundaries and monitor the work-from-homers, but isn't that their job? To manage? Why risk alienating talented workers who may be more productive without the extra-long commute or the complicated child care arrangements or, frankly. without the distractions of a cubicle environment?

I certainly don't have all the answers, but I can say that truly flexible work environments are good for workers. They are good for families. They are good for employers. I hope that, at the very least, this move by Yahoo! will help keep the conversation about flex schedules going.

My fear, though, is that it will give employers the permission to remain inflexible.

From the Outside In

I'm so used to living my life looking from the inside out. Wishing I had more time, more control, more space, more energy, more patience. Thinking I'm being judged for the whiny preschooler, ornery six year old, bad hair day, inability to remember simple tasks and deadlines. Motherhood and family life have many of us so wrapped up in what we should be doing, could be doing or would rather be doing that I, for one, often miss what's right in front of me.

I long ago gave up expecting or striving for perfect. I do, however, expect/want/wish/hope my kids will behave relatively well in situations where other mothers are present so as not to let anyone else know how badly I'm swinging by the seat of my pants at any given moment. I just want to look a little bit like I know what I'm doing, if even for a second. Although, when a fellow parent compliments me on having it all figured out (ha!), I dismiss those good vibes quickly thinking, "if they only knew." There is no winning with me, apparently.

So it is often in those moments when my kids are screeching through Target that they want a new toy and we're only there for toilet paper or when they are smacking each other in the head as I attempt to buy groceries or the three year old is running wild in the elder's school while I'm trying to scoop ice cream for the 100th day of school Kindergarten celebration that I hang my internal head, assume the jig is up and can't wait to get the hell outta there before I'm branded with the scarlet B of bad parenting.

Today, I was one of a two-parent volunteer team to lead an arts and crafts project at school. I convinced the hubby to take the three year old to lunch during that half-hour block so I could focus, for a change, on just my kindergartner and his peers. Especially since tape and glue were involved. My parent partner's two preschool boys were with her. As we walked into the school together, I recognized so much of myself. The strained smile in her voice as she cajoled her kids to stay put while we signed in. The pre-bad-behavior apologies. The split attention during the activity.

And really, they were fine. The youngest was a little wilder, excited to see his big sister, stimulated by all the activity and new toys and books. But overall, totally acceptable behavior. Until we were trying to exit the class and hug our big kids goodbye and that little guy tossed an entire crate of crayons all over circle time. And I laughed. Not because it was terribly funny, but because it was really no big deal. And yet, I could see to the mom, it was. And I knew how that felt. But in the grand scheme of things, it was crayons.

So I bent down to help pick them up and helped her push the stroller to the car.

Do I think seeing my usual stress on another mother's face is going to really help me be calmer the next time I'm in that situation? I hope so, but probably not. But it was nice to see myself from the outside for a change and realize that my mother was right all those year's ago: Ain't no body paying attention to me, they are all busy worrying about themselves.

So the next time you see me trying not to freak out with two crazed kids in tow, remind me of that. And maybe help me pick up the spilled crayons, if you don't mind.

Connecticut

I joked this morning on Facebook about how vulnerable I felt having left my phone at home. Keep in mind, I would be back at home by 12:15 and connected once again.

I blissfully squirreled myself into an office and, uninterrupted, completed a work task that has been haunting me for a week, just begging for a quiet block of time. After preschool pick-up and lunch, I plopped the three year old on the couch for a bit of Peppa Pig on the DVR.

And there they were as the television screen faded into focus. Images of ambulances, so very many ambulances, lined up. Police officers. Flashing lights. Audio that wasn't working from a field reporter offering me no context. The words: "Shooting at Elementary School." The channel was local.

Panic. Fear. Where? Where? WHERE! It only took 15 seconds for the video to scroll through to show me this was Connecticut, but for 15 seconds my heart seized and my stomach dropped and all I could think of was the folly of forgetting my phone while my child could be hurt, scared, alone. Even now, I am still shaken. Still shaking. Still afraid. Enough to take fingers to keys to type, to make sense, to feel a little less alone in knowing that there are mothers not breathing a sigh of relief. There are mothers keening for their children. Mothers rushing to emergency rooms. Mothers pacing floors while doctors tend to injuries little bodies should never endure. Mothers numb with denial, knowledge, loss.

Empty stockings will remain on mantles. Gifts are tucked away in closets to bring fresh tears when discovered at some later date. Brothers and sisters are unmoored and frightened. Children now carry scars that school isn't safe.

The cocoons we create for our children are fragile. Despite our best intentions and most fervent precautions, predators will still find a way into our lives to shake our souls.

I feel sick for those families.

I can't dislodge the image of those flashing lights.

I will be waiting, impatiently, for my son to step off the school bus this afternoon. I will be waiting to hold him tight, to remind my heart of the feel of his skinny little embrace, to buffer his protest, to ruffle his hair while I pretend I'm not crying, to own the joy that my boy has come home to me.

Because in Connecticut, someone like me won't be able to do that today.

Tooth Fairy IOU

The six year old lost his first tooth today. And we're both a little bummed.

The thing had been hanging on by a thread for several days. Last night, the hubby and I tried, in vain, to pull it for him. But our little guy was a little freaked out by the whole thing and had little patience for our amateur dentistry. When he didn't loose it by breakfast, I packed his back pack with an envelope and instructed him to bring it home for the tooth fairy if he lost it at school.

Sure enough, he came off the bus this afternoon and announced he lost it. Followed by, "I swallowed it."

It was an accident and from what I gathered just fell out of his gums and slid right on down his gullet without his knowledge. He's pretty torn up about it, despite the fact that the tooth fairy would accept an explanation note under his pillow if the tooth was missing.

I tried to focus on the excitement of it all, but part of me is feeling a bit sad about it, too. This was a first for both of us. I remember the bumpy edges of that little tooth first breaking through his pink gums when he was 10 months old. I watched it grow and change his little gummy smile, watched as it was joined by others until he finally had a mouthful of little, pearly chompers that peeked through smiles and bit through new foods.

Now it's gone. I'm not entirely sure I would have kept it after the tooth fairy picked it up, so it's not that, but I do feel a bit of sadness that I didn't get to hold that first tooth in my palm, marvel at its smallness and say a final goodbye to his babyhood. He's growing and changing so fast. He's reading and smart mouthing and doesn't want to crawl into my lap nearly as much anymore. The fact that he's passed another milestone only solidifies that the ride is going too fast.

But life isn't perfect, right? Sometimes you swallow the tooth or mess up the proposal (points at self - story for another day) or burn the dinner, but it doesn't mean you can't still have the magic of the tooth fairy, the engagement or the impromptu takeout.

Tonight, I will still sneak into a bedroom and slip something beneath a pillow. Another first for all of us. Then, tomorrow, I'll try to get used to his new smile with a little hole in the middle. Just another piece of his fading babyhood.