The Life Changer- For Realsies

(sidenote: Jason has since forbidden me from using the phrase "for realsies" ever again. Whatevs. Like he gets to say.)

A few weeks ago, I put all purchases on hold. Jason and I put all new projects in the backseat. I traded my impulse purchases at Target for the luxury of sitting in my pj pants just a little too long past breakfast.

I traded my pencil skirts, for colored pencils and unlimited afternoons of arts and crafts.

I quit my job.


When it came down to it, I wasn't entirely happy everyday doing what I spent more time on than anything else- and that was my job- when I was oodles of over-the-top happy when I was with Marin. And so, I decided to be happier.

That's the short of it. The long of it really is that my job has become increasingly less flexible, to the point where I have been seeing Marin for a half hour a day, and that is just for dinner, bath and bed. And that just isn't going to work. Jason and I decided that as long as I could curb my Home Goods obsession and swear off random Marin shopping (who me?!) that I could quit my job and stay home with Marin. I'm embarrassed to admit that I had to think about that for more than a second, but about a second and a half later, I had my mind made up. I've had one foot, two arms and about half my brain out the door ever since.

I really began thinking about this before Marin was born. Before we even knew if she would be a boy or a girl. Around that time, I had a snipit of this conversation with Molly over lunch at our favorite spot in the loop, equadistant from our offices. She said something that really stuck with me. She said, "I'm sure you are an excellent Lead Enrollment Rep (my current job), but I'm positive that you'll be an even better mom. And I just think we should spend our time doing the things we're best at." I have never forgotten that. How true is that? At the time though, I didn't really have an acurate, living little reminder of what I was missing. From the very first day that I returned to work, I have had that constant reminder.

I'm a little torn. I'm really gratful that I am able to stay home with Marin. And I am very excited for that oportunity. But I just think this is one of those many aspects of parenting where there is no right or wrong choice, rather just simply a choice you have to make that works for your family. And even then, you may never really know if you have made the right decision. You just have to do what you feel is right. I really see a lot of value in setting an example for children, and perhaps girls in particular, to work hard; have a career; make your own money. But I also believe in doing what you love. And what I love is being Marin's mommy.

And so yes, I'll miss the extra money. And the zen time on the train all to myself when I read non-mommy related materials (gasp!). I'll miss the work friends that I've made and the satisfaction of a good review. I'll miss the little old man that sits at the train station in Chicago every morning at his salvation army post. We smile at each other every day. I'll also miss the street performer who plays the saxaphone on the corner everyday and has the words "Sax and the City" written on his coffee can turned tip jar. And yes, of course I'll miss you, Home Goods.

But what I won't miss are Marin's giggles as she runs in the yard every day, and her sweet sleepy hugs as she wakes up from her naps. I won't miss the things she'll say and do as she grows and learns more about how life works. I won't miss a chance to take her to the park. I won't ever have to turn down a tea party for a teleconference. I won't miss an oportunity to kiss her skinned knees. I'll get to be a room mom and a field trip chaperone.

And don't get me wrong, I know that my new gig won't be easy. Need I be reminded of Marin's current temper trend of sitting right down in the street and pitching a fit when she doesn't get her way? How about how when I hold her hand to cross the street and she's unable to wriggle free, she takes her other hand and uses it to pry my hand off of hers. But as in a job, there are sacrifices and there are rewards, and I just happend to think that the rewards I'll reep while being with Marin everyday will way out weigh any that I could find in the office.

A few weeks ago, I came across an exerpt from Kristin van Ogtrop's new book "Just Let me Lie Down". Kristin is the editor of Real Simple magazine, (Laaaaaa! Can you hear the angles singing in the heavens?! I love Real Simple magazine.) The excerpt said this: "Question the idea that quitters never win. It's one thing you learned in kindergarten that is absolutely false. At a certain point, quitters really do win, especially when quitting means eliminating from your life a bad job. Let's be honest. How many of you have dreamed of writing this out-of-office email: "Having realized, after years of thankless toil, that this job/my coworkers/my measly paycheck/my crazy boss are no longer worth my valuable time, I will be out of the office for the rest of my life. If you need immediate assistance, find someone else?" If that's not a win, I don't know what is." Now, my job really wasn't that bad. For the most part, I really liked it. But when Marin was born, that, along with many other things in life, were forever changed.

I hope that I am making a decision that is a win. I hope that, as Molly said, I am going to be spending my time doing what I am best at. I hope that I don't have to resort to hiding shopping bags from Jason in my trunk. (Just kidding honey. Sortof.)

I gave a little over a months notice to my boss, but she wanted to keep it quiet for a few more weeks so she didn't have to field job inquiries just yet. It all went public today. My last day is July 9th. I have exactly eight working days left; not that I'm counting. ;)

I'm very excited to have playdoe in my hair. I can't wait to host holiday themed parties where we make take home crafts, like Valentine's for our Daddies. But I'm a little scared about the unknown. I'm a little nervous about whether or not I can hack it. I'm feeling very melancoly about this current life. But until then, I just have to dive right in feet first and do the best that I can. Lucky for me, my new boss is wonderfully kind, has a charming little toothy smile, and can't talk back yet.

A small fit

When I was growing up, aside from the normal no-nos, there were a few words that were not allowed. They were: shut up, stupid, sucks and hate. If we were caught saying those my mom would say, "Excuse me?" Oh boy. You did not want to hear that. Then we were asked to think of a more appropriate word, and sent to the stairs to sit and think about what we had done and what we would do differently next time (ugh-snoooooore fest).

I presume that Jason and I will ask Marin to exercise the same manners when come to those words. So that means I will have to, too. But since she isn't here right now, will you allow me to have a little fit?

Here goes: (red faced, feet stomping) Sometimes going to work is so stupid! I don't wanna! How can I be expected to leave my little sweet peanut?! I want to snuggle with her all day and go to the park and play and hear her giggle. I want to watch her discover and point out the window at the birds. I want to hear her repeat sounds and words all day. I want to sit with her after her nap and talk about her dreams. I want to chase her when she takes off down the sidewalk. I want to snuggle with her in the morning when she is still sleepy. I want to read her the same books over and over and over. Work sucks! I hate it!!!!

Okay. I feel better now. I can almost hear my mom through the computer saying, "Johanna, sweetheart, calm yourself down. It's okay. Squeeze my hand and give me all your crabbies." That's what moms do, right? But why is it so bad to afford ourselves a little fit every once in awhile?

The truth is- Marin loves going to Miss Kathy's. We all her; how could you not? They play and do crafts and take walks to the park, have all sorts of cool toys that we don't have at home. They have gourmet meals, and pj days and just about all the fun you can imagine. I was all set for Marin to cry everyday when I dropped her off. To love me so much that she never wanted to leave my side. My mom told me about how she dropped me at daycare when I was young, and I would stand at the glass door crying. But later when she would call to check on me, the daycare lady reported back that almost the second that she was out of the driveway, I'd turn around and run to play with a smile on my face. Marin has literally never once cried when we have dropped her off at daycare. Literally not once. In fact, in the morning when I drop her off, she runs to Miss Kathy. And when I pick her up at night, she runs to me with a gigantic smile and he arms up. She likes to go to Miss Kathy's and she likes to go home at the end of the day. It's the perfect scenario, right?

Wrong. While it might be perfect for Marin, it's not always so perfect for me. Today I hated it so much that I allowed myself this little fit. Some days I love my job. I love getting dressed up like a big girl and going out in the world. Other days, like today, not so much. Today as I am forced with deadlines and pressure, all I can think about is my little girl, and her sweet smile... and how I'm missing it all right now.

So thanks for letting me stomp my feet a little. Go ahead moms. I know you want to. We spend all day minding our manners and acting the way we want our children to see us acting. We are never ending example setters. Today I give you permission to throw a fit. Go ahead. Sit right down in the middle of the kitchen and wail if you want to. No one is looking.

Martha Stewart Had a Nanny...

I've been thinking about something lately. Why do women have to have it all? Better yet, why do we have to have it all, and act like it is easy? It's not easy. Everyone knows that. So why do we extend our perfectly manicured hands in a wave to our neighbors with a lip glossed smile as if to say, "Here I am, totally together!" Why is that normal? It's not normal.

Take the other day for example. I showed up to work wearing a skirt that was too small, and unwashed hair slicked back in a ponytail (headband hopefully hiding the grease). Marin woke up early that morning, and I'd literally rather look a mess in order to get 15 uninterrupted minutes with her, than have a warm shower. As I was racing to daycare I was thinking about all I had to get done at work that day, and then as soon as I dropped her off I wanted to call in sick. When I actually got to work, all I could think about was Marin, and when I got home that night the next days work was never far from my mind. Meanwhile, I'm not as helpful to Jason as I'd like to be with the house, my friendships are sitting fourth string on the last season of the game, my boss is asking more and more of me, my life is in boxes at some storage shed across town, my house is literally ripped down to the studs and Marin is growing up before my eyes.

I told Jason the other day that I feel like I have my hands in all these different pots, and they are all overcooked and boiling over. I'm spread so thin, and not feeling adequate in any area. What gives? Some days I feel like a rope that is rapidly unraveling at both ends. When the ends meet in the middle what will be left of me?

I know I'm not alone in this. Other moms have half admitted they feel the same when I have brought it up to them. So why is there so much stress on being perfect? Why can't we be heroes for being good enough? For trying as hard as we can. You don't win the bake sale for bakery bought cookies because you "tried". So why don't we just say, "I'm a mom. I'm exhausted. I'm totally spent. My clothes don't always fit right, and my hair isn't always washed. I may not be the super star at work that I was before, because guess what- I'm late to the meeting because I was washing pureed peas off my skirt. I haven't returned your call about last weekend because I honestly haven't had a minute to even locate my phone. But guess what. I love my baby. I love being a mom. I'm not perfect. I don't even have the time to try and be perfect. And this is who I am." I think there is honor in that.

You know the mom with the freshly waxed car... and eyebrows.... and the perfectly shiny hair? Three days after birth, she's back in her skinny jeans. You want to hate her. Then you find out that she also volunteers at the nursing home, knits her kids a new scarf each winter, and just made partner. To top it off she's the nicest person you ever met. How does she do it? My mom was this mom. My friend Erica is this mom. My friend Molly will be this mom one day.

I am a big fan of the team. The "momtourage". Yes, Martha Stewart makes a perfect roast and serves it at a beautifully decorated table topped with a homemade centerpiece from her garden. But guess what. Martha Stewart had a nanny. And, she went to jail. :)

Sure, Marin eats homemade organic food. But Jason made the last batch. And yes, Marin will have a handmade Halloween costume, but her Auntie Molly is making it for her. I believe a woman is only as good as the sum of her parts. So its fine by me if Marin learns humility from her Grandpa and a sense of humor from her Auntie Mika. She can learn grammar from Grandma, and all about sports from her Pappy. Daddy will make her feel confident and beautiful and Auntie Molly can teach her math. Aunt Vee can teach her about the farm, and Nana can teach her how to spot a good sale. Uncle Jake can teach her how to sing, and Aunt Katy can show her how to balance her checkbook. Aunt Lindsay can teach her the meaning of "Oskee Wow Wow!" Maybe she'll see that I can't do it all. And that's just fine by me. I can teach her, that as long as you try your hardest, you'll always be your best.

Now excuse me while I proudly slip into yesterday's t-shirt.

What no one told me

Well, I'm back at work. It's horrid. It feels like my first day on the job, except that I'm expected to perform like it is my 500th day on the job. Right away. All at once. It's like your first day but instead of a friendly HR welcome, you have meeting requests and phone calls and emails. My favorite email of the day so far came about an hour after I arrived today and it said, "I still haven't received your marketing report." Of course you haven't. I only learned that you needed a marketing report ten minutes ago. I am already behind. And all I can think about is Marin's little smile and if her diaper needs to be changed.

No one tells you how truly terrible this day feels. They tell you that it will be hard. You realize it won't be easy. But not until you are actually going through the motions, do you realize what that means. I have learned in this whole process that there are a lot of things that no one tells you about. Either that, or some advice just means more after it is put into your own perspective. Some things you have to experience yourself in order to understand.

My mom enjoyed motherhood and our baby years so much that she never told me any of the bad stuff. In fact, sometimes she acts like there wasn't a single bad day. Recently, I was telling her a story about a particularly fussy moment with Marin when she was crying and my mom literally said, "Isn't that funny; I'm sure you and Jake cried, but I just don't remember it." No one told me that sometimes even though you have done everything and checked everything you should, sometimes babies just cry.

There are other things. Like....

I didn't know that I'd be seeing snaps in my sleep. Seriously, everything Marin owns has snaps. A lot of snaps. Whoever invented the snap is really cleaning up in the baby department. I bet I snap 100 snaps a day. Every time you change a diaper it is 6 or 7 snaps to undo the outfit, 3 snaps to undo the onesie. Then 3 to redo the onesie and 6 or 7 to redo the outfit. That is a 20 snap transactions right there. All for one diaper change.

No one tells you that babies bowel movements are mustard colored. Or Grey Poupon as Jason says. Sure the doctor tells you that it is normal. But no one mentions this at the baby shower. I mean, why would they? You'd never be invited to another party again if you brought "potty talk" to the baby shower.

I didn't know that it was possible to love someone as deeply as I love Marin. You just can't explain to someone how much they will love their children. It is truly unconditional. And it doesn't matter how tired you are or how long they have been crying. You just love them more and more every second. No matter what.

I also didn't know how in love I would be with Jason with our baby in his arms. Or when I see Jason in Marin. It makes me love and appreciate Jason in a way I never had before. It also makes me make up silly songs to sing to Marin about her daddy. ("Your daddy's the best; he's better than the rest! Listen to me; 1, 2, 3; Your daddy's the best! Your daddy's the best; he loves to play with you! Your daddy's the best, his favorite colors' blue!) This is not a joke. :)

No one tells you that after you give birth a nurse watches you go to the bathroom the first time. I don't need to expand on this point. But it's true. My nurse sat on the tub. She was a lovely woman, but I wasn't prepared for her to hand me the toilet paper.

And since I have already gone there... Everyone tells you that you lose all of your inhibitions after you deliver a baby. But no one told me that in recovery a nurse checks you for hemorrhoids.

I wish I had realized that a size 8 is thin. I spent so much time pre-pregancy wishing that I was smaller and thinner. If I am ever a size 8 again, I promise to appreciate it and be happy with it.

No one ever told me that in the beginning, nursing is really hard. This one stumps me because once you talk to moms who have been through it, they all admit how hard it was for them. But no one comes out and tells you before you are sitting in the dark with your 2 day old baby at 1am for an hour and a half trying to get her to latch.

No one tells you that the joy of meeting your baby WAY out weighs the pain of labor. Granted, I had the epidural. And it still wasn't a day in the park. But the minute Marin was born I completely forgot any pain or morning sickness. The joy is instant and overwhelming in the best possible way. So much so that I wanted to relive the day over and over- contractions included.

I never knew tired until Marin was born. When she was getting up in the night I thought I'd never feel totally rested again. But no one told me that I'd get used to being so tired. And then just when I got used to sustaining on 4 hours of sleep, she slept through the night. Now she sleeps for 12 hours, and we have to wake her up for daycare.

No one told me that the "baby blues" are real and they are normal. In the first few weeks your hormones are all over the map. I cried because I was happy, I cried because I was scared, I cried because I was frustrated, I cried because I felt frustrated and didn't think I should have been, I cried because we were out of turkey. It is okay. And more importantly, it goes away.

I have learned that with motherhood, comes the mommy guilt. Am I spending enough time with Marin? Am I spending enough time with work? Has she been in the swing too long? Is it okay that I am glad that she is asleep? I'm not totally convinced that even when Marin is happy, healthy and adjusted to life on her own, will I be sure that I did everything the way that I should have.

No one told me that I'd instinctively jump every time I heard a baby cry. Even when it wasn't my baby.

I had no idea how much one smile could warm my heart. And that I'd become addicted to seeing it. That one smile could be the best part of my day.

No one told me that it would be so hard to go back to a job I enjoy.

And yet, here I am. One thing I am told, is that it gets easier from here.

Two Months Old!

Marin was eight weeks old on Sunday. She is now smiling up a storm!

Two months old means only one month until I have to go back to work. Ugh. Jason has now committed to taking the train with me the first day. I think mostly to make sure that I actually go. :)

We have found childcare for Marin when I go back to work. We were going to get a nanny, and in the meantime we joined a parenting network and through that found out about an opening at a day care near our home. So, thanks to a family who is relocating to New York, we visited the day care, checked the references, discussed it to death, and decided to enroll Marin. She will be going to a woman's home. She has a staff of 6 all of whom have early childhood experience, she herself has health care experience, and has run daycares for longer than I can imagine. She has raised 3 very polite children (all of whom we met) one of whom is a violinist at the Chicago Youth Orchestra, and comes to play for the children once a week for "music day". She comes with glowing reviews from all of the parents we spoke with; she is clearly loving and enjoys children; she has tons and tons of toys and activities for the children to play with; they take field trips to the park, and the library and the Old Town School of Folk Music; the other children she cares for looked happy and engaged. She wants to know all about Marin's favorite toys, her pets, her friends and playmates..... She's a lovely woman, and it's a good place for Marin to be during the day. But I still hate it. And for the record, the woman's house is a little too unorganized and crazy for my liking. A lot actually. So there; take that!

But Marin will be happy there. I really think she will be. And that is what is important. Now I have just four more weeks to convince myself of this.

To be or not to be a working mother (out of the home) is the hardest decision I have had to make to date. Anyone who has had to make this choice knows the pains exactly. For some, I imagine it is an easy decision. But for others of us, it is seriously difficult. And the kill of it is- there is no right answer. And I may never ever know if I made the right choice. If only I could have it all. If only I could smuggle Marin to work with me in my pocket.

Maybe I'll work on that in the next few weeks just as a back up plan. In the meantime, I'm enjoying my last 30 days of the good life. Of all Marin, all the time... all along getting paid.