Why I Am both the Worst and the Best Mother in the World

Last night The Child went to play at a friend's house. Right before she was to be home she called and asked if said friend could come home with her and spend the night.

There was no way this was going to happen. First of all, she's not allowed to have friends over when I'm not here. (There are a couple of exceptions to this, but the point is moo). Second, the friend in question is a) significantly younger, 2) exceedingly strong willed and 3) a bit naughty. The two of them fight like siblings from time to time and Friend has more than once gotten The Child in trouble because she wouldn't listen when The Child told her they couldn't/shouldn't do something.

The Child begged. "Pul-eeeze, Mom. I swear we'll be fine. It'll be like I'm babysitting her".

"No. You can't babysit friends who don't listen to you".

Friend, yelling into the phone, "I promise promise promise we'll behave. And I'll love you for ever and ever and ever".

No.

No.

No.

In her defense, Friend's mom is doing an internship and the poor kid has to get up at 5 am and be in childcare all day. But that's not really my problem. There have been a couple times this summer when she has spent the night and stayed here all the next day. But I was home. Now I'm not. End of story.

The begging and deal making and promises continued until, yes I did, I told her to get home and hung up on her.

And she called back. (Seriously, I can't even come up with a metaphor for the tenacity of my kid when she's like this. A dog with a bone is more compliant).

Another "No, get home". Sheesh.

She came home in a door slamming fury. Whatever. Like that sort of behavior would get me to change my intractable mind. She would occasionally come into the kitchen to get something, mostly, I think, a pretext for displaying to me how thoroughly disgusted she was with me and how much she hated me. Her very aura screamed "worst mother in the world".

She mellowed some by dinner time. (Who wouldn't over a good juicy burger in an onion bun and a delicious stone fruit salad)? Then, a little more meekly, she asked why Friend couldn't come over when I have allowed B or J to be there.

"Because B and J are older and I trust them".

"But you can trust Friend".

Well, no. I can't. Which I explained. And then she started to cry. And that's when it hit me. (I'm slow on the uptake but I manage to get there eventually). The kid was bored out of her frakking mind. And a little lonely.

"You're getting bored being home alone, aren't you?"

She cried some more and nodded her head, big tears rolling down her cheeks. (It takes a lot for her to muster tears, btw. Always has). "I tried to play board games with the puppies today but it didn't work," she wailed. Oh, that pesky no-opposable-thumbs thing.

So I apologized to her for the timing of this job. I told her that I was sorry there wasn't more notice because then I might have been able to make some arrangements that would have left her a bit more occupied. Then I mentioned that Judy had said I could bring her in to the office.
She brightened immediately. "Tomorrow!" she said.

Between you and me, I think she's going to be even more bored there than she would be at home. No TV. No puppies. It's not like, as I explained in great detail, I'll be able to play with her. "But I'll be with you," she said. "I'm just tired of being by myself".

I must be a working mom now. I feel guilty.

It's not bone crushing guilt. I know this is temporary. And I know that in the main The Child is not being harmed by having to hang out by herself. I also know that in a couple of years having the house to herself of a summer's day will be a luxury beyond telling. But we're not there yet. And let's face it, this whole "working mom" thing, which sounds so good on paper, is as much a challenge and a change for her as it is for me. I've always been around. Now, all of a sudden, I'm not. Yeah, that Joni Mitchell "you don't know what you've got till it's gone" lyric is embedding itself on my brain. Just as I'm having to learn how to manage work and home and writing, she's having to adjust to the reality that while a working mom may mean more money and eventually the possession of the Holy Grail (a cell phone), having a working mom also means that mom isn't necessarily going to be available all the time in the ways she's used to. Welcome to the real world, sweetie.

The Child was ever so organized last night: taking a shower and laying out clothes and packing things for the office. Judy has at least one project for her to do today and I can think of a few things as well. Child labor, baby. Work it. But the point is that she is excited and a little relieved to have a break. And I expect, after one day of being slightly bored at the office she'll be more than happy to be bored at home for a few days.

I told The Spouse last night that these 3 weeks are like boot camp. It's a big adjustment and I'm just exhausted come dinner time. I'm grateful for the experience, grateful that this came when it did and that I can learn some of this balancing stuff in a temporary situation. I trust that it will serve us all well when all those clients start flooding in when I start my business. (They're going to flood in, right?) Balancing work and home, that's one piece. Balancing work and home and family, yet another.

Hi. This is me. Juggling. On a wire. Thank heaven for the net.

A Minor Adjustment

Now that we've all weighed in on the good riddance of Karl Rove, let's talk about me for a moment.

First of all, it appears the commute issue is going to be ok. I have figured out a very nifty route and, if the first business day of this nonsense is any indication, so has just about everyone else. Which also means that I just bought myself an extra 30 minutes in the morning.

People heeded warnings, planned ahead, stuffed what few commuter trains we have and generally managed without major tie-ups of any sort. Frankly, I'm surprised. And I couldn't help but wonder if maybe when all this is over some of those folks mght not stay on the trains instead of climbing into their cars again.

Although, before I start waxing to Al Gorian, please note that I was driving my car and not using public transportation, nor would I use public transportation to get to this particular job because "public transportation" in Seattle doesn't approach meaning what it means in a place like Chicago which has trains that run, all the time, in varoius directions, etc. etc. etc.

Oh, I'm quite sure that you in Chicago and NY and SF and London and Paris and other sensible cities with some sort of subway/elevated/tram/train system would regaled me with a ton of stories about how your system isn't all that great/convenient/etc. And all I would say in answer to that is, "You have no idea what you're talking about".

But instead of boring you with the paucities of our "mass transit" (and oh, those are some air quotes just dripping with sticky sarcasm so watch your shoes) I would like to celebrate a mass transit system that I am very fond of. Today we celebrate the trains of Chicago.










Funny you-had-to-be-there story: after we left the dinner party we, Buck and the Iwanski-party-of-four took the train back downtown. This was very, very civilized and cosmopolitan. Late night, a bit more wine indulged than would be reasonable if one were driving a car, but no matter. We walked a very civilized number of blocks to the nearest train station and waited for very little time before the train arrived. A train which deposited us another very civilized number of blocks from home. This is how it is supposed to work. Anyhoo, I was quite full of joie de vie and "Chicago is the coolest city evah" and still flushed with the general excitement of being in the presence of greatness and I said, as we waited for the train, "Hey, everybody! Act like you're waiting for the train so I can take a picture!"





See? Casual.

On another note: working is hard.

(I said that with a really whiny baby voice, in case you couldn't tell).

I realize that there will be little sympathy coming from this hard-working crowd. And I don't want any. Chasing after a kid/keeping a house/volunteering/blahblahblahblahblahblah is certainly work and all that hooha. Balancing that and persuing avocations while actually engaged however briefly in a vocation: not easy. You knew that. I knew it, intellectually. Now the reality is kicking my arse.


Part of the challenge quite frankly has nothing to do with balancing things and everything to do with the fact that I have a tremendous amount to accomplish in a mere 3 weeks. And atop the organizing I am, by title, the Assistant to the Interim Director, which means admin-y stuff like letters and answering phones and all that sort of office-y stuff. And I find myself trying to walk a very thin line between learning enough to do an effective job without immersing myself in the work because I'm outie at the end of the month. Which is all to say that my brain hurt yesterday. Not a headache, a head hurt.

Also, and I know this sounds like whining but really I'm not, afternoon has never been my optimal time of day. I get home during the lowest bit of my energy cycle, or whatever you kids are calling it these days. For the next few weeks I must figure out how to regard the work I need to do for my real life (writing content for a website, updating the food blog, tending to family matters that require actual brain cells, etc.) without thumb-sucking and drooling.

Here's a picture of a man on the train in Chicago:


Hee.

I was thankful to come home to a very clean kitchen, courtesy of The Child, who took it upon herself to hand wash all the dishes that were not cleaned by the less than stellar performance of the dishwasher (again), and a clean Dog, again courtesy of The Child. She seems to be owning this latchkey kid thing with a fair amount of apblomb at the moment. I expect she'll be bored out of her mind by the end of the month but for now she's managing beautifully and I'm very proud of her.

A Brief Update

The road craziness doesn't start until tonight so I actually got to the job site early this morning. Who knows what it will be like come Monday? Good news is that they're pretty flexible so depending on how things go I may even be able to change my hours to like 10-3 or something.

The job is going to be fine. It's a non-profit that acts as a resource for folks who are living with (or love people who are living with) mental illness. Fortunately, when I answer the phone I can refer the callers to someone in the outfit who knows what the frak they are talking about. My real task is to...wait for it...organize their office and systems. Gee. I think I can do that. I told the Boss Lady (I think I'll address Judy that way on Monday. It will probably freak her out.) that I'm going to use her as a reference for the new biz. The folks I'm working with all seem to be super nice and there's a little pub within walking distance that makes a rocking good southwest chicken salad. Judy bought me lunch today. That's how I know.

But most days I expect I'll be eating at my desk, trying to move through the mountains of mystery files and such that are crowding drawers and cupboards. Maybe systematize the computer folders. Like that. I can say that the 5 hours flew by. Lots to do.

The Child and The Dog were both very happy to see me when I got home and The Child had completed the first draft of her second book report, which meant that she didn't spend the entire time I was gone staring at the television.

So there you go. Thanks for all your well wishes and such. You really are just the nicest.

This is a Test. This is Only a Test.

When The Spouse came in this morning to kiss me goodbye he inquired as to why my alarm had gone off.

"I have to work today".

"Yeah, but it's only 6".

"I have to try and blog before I leave".

"Ah".

I've been all over JP's back about managing blogging and work; now I have to put my typing where my mouth is. How am I doing so far?

You know what's going to be tough? Not reading comments until this afternoon. That's one of my favorite parts of blogging, seeing what y'all come up with and responding. Sometimes the funniest and most interesting stuff comes in the comments section. Witty banter and all that. I'm going to so miss not seeing it until later. But I must be a grownup. And maybe Judy will let me check from work. Maybe.

Meanwhile, there's something I've been wanting to tell you but I had to wait until I'd talked about it with The Spouse first. Which I did last night (wearing pearls and having cocktails, by the by. See? True to my word). I'm thinking of starting my own business. As a...wait for it...personal organizer.

It all started a few weeks ago when I mentioned helping Stina. The response from some of you really got me thinking. This is totally something I could do for money. Totally. Start up costs would be negligible (and hello? all of a sudden I have this temporary gig to pay for them). The Hat, because she's amazing like that, has developed a swell logo for me. The enthusiasm I've received from the few people I've told has been terrific.

It was so interesting because in the months since The Job That Sounded Perfect on Paper I've been trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. (Besides a writer). Part of my problem was that I'm just too old to get a job Job and be happy. If I'm going to alter the way our family operates and keep my hand in at what I'm passionate about I don't want my soul to be sapped by some stupid thing just for the money. And I didn't have a clue what that looked like. I was pretty much searching the shrubbery for a burning bush, some directional marker that would set me on the path toward IT. Which, btw, was not forthcoming for months and months. (This journey started in February, for crying out loud).

And then, there it was. A bush. It wasn't a big bush but it was burning quite brightly and the voice that came from the bush said, "Dude, you could totally do this".

I still have one or two ducks to line up but they are small and docile ducks. The other fowl have quite literally fallen into place. Like the timing is right, or something. (The Hat insists this is a sign from the universe that I'm on the right path. I think she's right). So there you go. I hope to go public in September.

So more on that later.

Now I have to get dressed and wend my circuitous way to the Little Job. The Child slept over at a friend's last night so she won't be home until later. (She feels so grown up having a key to let herself in). We're going to have Chicago dogs for dinner tonight. Yum. Life is good.

Thursday Tosh

Thanks for all your good wishes yesterday about what I am now calling the Little Job. It's not that big a deal, really, given the money and the hours but it accomplishes a few things, not the least of which is effectively ending my summer as of tomorrow. But I realize that 99.9% of you work full-time and have 2 weeks, maybe, of summer anyway so whining about that would probably not warrant any sympathy. So I won't.

Pamelamama left a comment celebrating "worthwhile work". I don't know that this qualifies. It's hardly my dream job. The more I think about it, my dream job is building a miniature replica of all the sets for "Battlestar Gallactica" and selling tickets so people can come see my little tiny Play-doh® Laura Roslin and Bill Adama. So I'm looking at this as seed money for that project.

---

Here's something else I haven't mentioned yet:

A few weeks ago Seattle Coffee Girl asked if I would be her doula when Buffy comes. Of course I said "yes". One of my dearest friends was with The Spouse and I when I brought forth The Child and I swear it wouldn't have been accomplished without her. There's just something about having another woman there, whose been through it and knows you well, to make the job just a little easier. Plus, I'll have the privilege of being one of the first people ever to see the little beggar and that's exciting to me.

I should point out that the use of the word little in this instance is ironic. He looks to weigh about 9 pounds already and her due date is September 2. Can you say "inducing"? "Yes, miss, I'll have a gin and tonic and would you bring a Castor oil on ice for my friend here?"

It's all terribly exciting. It's been a long time since our circle had a baby around and he stands to become one of the most fawned over babies in history. Do keep her in your thoughts and prayers, won't you?

---

People were grumpy in my house last night. That was lame.

Here's what a typical evening looks like. The Child is usually off playing or zoned out in front of the TV. I'm usually in front of the computer. The Spouse comes home. We say "hi". Then he gets in front of the computer. And sometimes, sure, the greetings are a bit more effusive than "hi" but we all stay in our separate little areas until it's time for dinner and I don't know but I'm thinking that isn't optimal.

When we first got back from France, years and years and years ago, we adopted the concept of apertif, having a nice leisurely drink, a little nibble of something and some polite decompression conversation when The Spouse came home. Then he'd be left to further down time while I got dinner ready. That was nice. And we totally got out of the habit because frankly, our culture doesn't really support that sort of thing. We're really just not a "take some time and have a leisurely anything" sort of culture.

Hurry up and get out the door. Hurry up and work. Hurry up and take a break but hurry back because there's work to do. Hurry up and cook dinner and eat it in 10 minutes because I have homework/a meeting/a TV show at 8. Oh! Look at the time! I'd better hurry up and get to bed.

Our family doesn't even really operate at such a frantic pace most of the time but that "hurry up" thing is still at play somehow anyway. I'm feeling a serious need to don some pearls and greet The Spouse with a nice dry martini when he gets home tonight. May sound a little June Clever but Ward and June had it going on.

---

And finally, this song has, for no particular reason, been on my mind for days.





"It's My Life" Talk Talk

---

Now I have to go put baking soda on The Child's foot. She's sporting her second yellow jacket sting of the summer and she's not happy.

Well, Ain't That a Pip

I just got off the phone with my lovely friend, Judy, who I met when I was volunteering for Senator Cantwell. Judy was the volunteer coordinator when I started. I like Judy very much, she's a very interesting, charming woman.

Right. So the reason she called today was because she's interim director for a non-profit agency and she needs a part-time office manager for a few weeks and would I be interested?

So there you go.

It's just a 3 week gig, from 9 to 2, 4 days a week, through the end of the month. This means The Child is going to be on her own for most of the rest of the summer, which is fine. She actually thrives on that sort of responsibility. I'm sure it will all work out. Judy also knows of some other commitments I have and she's just so thrilled that I said "yes" that she's completely accommodating.

Judy actually wanted me to start today, but that was a little much. So my first day will be Friday. I found myself getting a little fluttery, which seemed silly because I can totally do the job. But then I realized why. It's nothing to do with the job and everything to do with karma slapping me upside the head.

Read this.

That's right. Starting on Friday, the DOT is shutting down a major section of I-5 through the city, all lanes, to do road work. I repeat, all lanes. During commuting hours. For 3 weeks. (And yes, you read that right: our totally brilliant mayor has suggested that people should just work from home or use the wireless at Starbucks. Because, you know, everyone in Seattle has a white collar job and a laptop. What a putz).

The point, my friends, is that while in conversations this weekend with people who are going to be severely impacted by the lack of a freeway and the gigantic tie-ups that will inevitably ensue on all the side streets, I was Perky McPerkison about the fact that none of this would affect me. Oh, I wasn't exactly gloating or anything, but I sure was grateful that this particular headache would pass me by.

Then I get a job. Starting Friday. In the north end of town. I live in the south end. Do we see the problem now? I have been wracking my brains for the last 15 minutes trying to think of alternate routes and every one of them is going to be impacted by the closure.

So now, instead of spending the next 2 days organizing the things I need to organize so I can be out of the house 4 days a week, I have to build a Viper and lay in a supply of tylium.

Rats.