CurrentMom

All In a Day's Work

Truth Thursday

One of the things I like the most about parenting teens and tweens is that I remember being their age. As such, I feel like I have a better sense of the needs, desires and anguish of their lives. At least to the degree that I can offer a sensitive, listening ear once in a while, and a hug when they’ll allow it.

One of the things I like the least about parenting, however, is the relentless chaos of it all.

Last week, all of this came together. Witness my day:

6:00 am: woke teen up for his final exam in biology. Based on the pace of his movements, decided that I couldn’t afford the ½ hour out of the house to work out.

6:15 am: woke teen again.

6:30 am: woke tween up for her finals in Band and English.

6:45 am: determined that tween was sick and kept her home until her final later in the day

7:00 am: donned rubber gloves and scrubbed the master bath, the only room to have escaped my cleaning frenzy three days earlier

7:25 am: threw in first laundry load of the day

7:30 am: began checking work emails

8:00 am: woke up 10 year old, made lunch and had breakfast together

8:30 am: shipped 10 year old to bus-stop – reminded him of clarinet lesson, Hebrew school and basketball practice

9:00 am: second laundry load

9:30 am: picked up teen from finals

10:00 – 11:30 am: worked from home

11:30 am: took tween to school

11:45 am – 1:00 pm: more work from home

1:00 pm: ran to consignment store for uniform for 10 year old’s band concert on Thursday

3:30 pm: took tween to bat mitzvah training

6:00 pm: on drive back from bat mitzvah training, listened as tween described the fact that her hamster had seemed chilled this morning; discussed options for taking care of him

6:30 pm: arrived home to find hamster no longer of this earth

6:31 pm: consoled hysterical tween

6:40 pm: tween picked up by best friends for basketball practice and comforted

6:45 pm: determined that 10 year old’s tummy hurt too much to attend basketball practice

6:50 pm: realized that dinner was still to be determined

7:00 pm: reheated soup for dinner

7:15 pm: remembered that there was still damp laundry to put in dryer

The evening consisted of additional work, conversation with spouse and younger son, and realization that teen had fallen asleep sometime in the late afternoon, and probably wouldn’t wake until morning. And laundry.

That was an easy day.

Except for the hamster.

Finding the Dragon Within on Chinese New Year

Truth Tuesday

Growing up a mixed-race child in lily-white upstate New York, I wanted nothing more than to blend in with my peers. If people asked, "what are you?" I would claim, "I'm just like you!" This despite the Chinese mother by my side and my own clearly Asian hair, eyes and skin. I celebrated Chinese New Year with my family, of course -- who could resist sweet pastries, brown sugar cake and red packets stuffed with money -- but never shared any of these traditions with friends at school.

At the same time, I followed the model minority path of good grades, musical prowess, and adherence to most school and parental rules. I genuinely thought of myself as a meek and obedient girl who would never make waves in life. An introvert.

How things change. 

Since becoming a mother eight years ago and an independent journalist three years ago -- courtesy of a somewhat anticipated layoff -- I have found my voice with a vengeance. And the process began earlier, of course, with every career success or personal triumph that built my self-esteem little by little. But somehow, having children for whom to set an example and a family to feed give me the motivation to speak my mind and the confidence to know that my thoughts are worth sharing.

In particular, I've started speaking up about work-life balance and workplace flexibility. For the last decade, I've covered workplace issues as a journalist. My intense focus on this subject has hammered home my belief that work gives life meaning -- but it can also drain life of joy without healthy boundaries. 

Gadgets Galore -- Easy Panini

Meal Monday 

I am what is known in business school case studies as a late adapter (see Luddite). I cannot be convinced (no matter how hard my husband tries) to give up my traditional date book that I mark in pencil. I got an iPhone last spring from my children as a birthday present, primarily so they can play games on it. I was perfectly happy with an old fashioned cell phone.  

I literally do not know how to turn on the television in our house. Once there is more than a single remote control, I give up. I do not have the extra brain space to devote to something that's supposed to make my life easier, but carries what I consider a steep learning curve.  

So it came as a surprise to my family and to myself, that I have gone slightly gadget crazy in the kitchen recently. Last year, I gave us all an ice cream maker. And we have used it quite a bit to make sorbets. The insert takes up a lot of space in the freezer, and falls on someone's foot on a regular basis, but overall, it was a good purchase.  

It has since been supplanted, however, by the as-seen-on-tv Yonanas machine. This simple blender-like contraption turns frozen bananas into a creamy soft-serve dessert. It's really good and guilt-free, because after all, it's only a banana. Of course, I am not counting the Nutella or chocolate chips we add in ("just a little") to dress it up.  Pretty soon, I fear, the ice cream maker will be relegated to the basement shelf next to the bread machine. 

My other new favorite is my Cuisinart Griddler. It does everything. I suspect it bears more than a passing resemblance to that perennial favorite of gadgeteers everywhere, the George Foreman Grill, but I found this one at Costco and I love it. It takes up about the same amount of counter space as a laptop (we cram it into the cabinet when not in use). It has two inserts -- one side is a grill/panini device and the other is just a flat griddle. It would have been my savior a couple of years ago when we renovated our kitchen and had the refrigerator and single electric burner from Walgreens in the dining room, but alas, I am a late adapter (see above), and did not have it then. 

Now, despite having a fully-equipped kitchen, I am an enthusiastic proponent of this widget. I favor the grill side and use it mainly as a panini press, but I did make some awesome French toast the other day on the griddle side. BUT, when I tried to scramble the remaining egg mixture ("why waste it?"), at least half the mixture rolled right off the griddle and into the handy-dandy drip pan. Not a big success. 

The paninis, though, have become a staple for us -- great easy dinners and weekend lunches. I stock individual focaccia rolls (my kids love them) and cold cuts, along with cheese and avocado and tomatoes and can always whip up a panini or two. The other day, I made my daughter a panini with sliced turkey and black olive tapenade. Rave reviews ensued. 

I guess we can file this in the progress column. I will continue to use my date book ("OMG Mom!") and be frustrated with the television, but the learning curve was worth all the effort for a good panini.

 

A Little Perspective

Fatherhood Friday

Having a newborn to go along with our almost-three year old and eight year old has been quite an adjustment. New routines, lots of sleep-deprived people in the house, tough to make plans beyond tomorrow, etc. We have no regrets about our family expansion plan, though it does seem like things have been real stressful for a few months now.

Last night I attended a program about homelessness. I’ll be honest – this is a topic I really haven’t thought about much. I suspect many of my colleagues and friends in attendance haven’t either, especially as one of the presenters described homelessness in our community as a “hidden” problem.

I’m not going to get into the details – this isn’t the space for that conversation. Suffice to say I was pretty moved by what I heard – stories of hardship and stories of humanity and everyday heroes. But the stories that probably touched me the most were about the children in our community who are impacted by homelessness. In a school year that is only halfway over our local urban school district has already dealt with over 2300 students who have been homeless to one extent or another. That’s not a misprint – 2300. They have a position in the school district of “Homeless Coordinator.” Growing up in my suburban school district I’m pretty sure we didn’t have one of those.

As I was driving home I was of course thinking about the challenges the community and these families face. Then I was thinking about the feelings of stress we’ve had in our home lately. It kind of put things in perspective.

That doesn’t mean that our feelings of stress were any less valid. But it did serve as a reminder about not taking things for granted. (As a side note, I think its quite easy for people who grew up or who today live in privilege to look at the world around them and feel guilty for having so many luxuries, let alone basics, that people right around the corner, or around the world, are lacking. I’m not suggesting we should feel guilty for having these luxuries, or feel guilty for feeling stressed about our lives. I am suggesting that it offers some perspective. If you want to read a really good book on the topic, check out “Life is What You Make It,” by Peter Buffett - son of Warren.)

This morning when I was hanging out with my eight year old, last night’s topic was on my mind. I decided to share it with him. I wanted him to know that a problem in our community touched me and I wanted to see if he was interested in doing something about it with me.

I’m not sure what I was expecting his reaction to be. He seemed very moved by the stories about kids and homelessness, but he didn’t know what to do with the information. So he excused himself to go to the bathroom!

I think I still want to explore this topic with him, thought it got me thinking about the idea of bringing up serious topics with kids in general. What’s the right age? How do you do it? Would love to hear about some of the “deep” topic conversations you’ve had with your kids.

(Photo Credit: http://extension.unh.edu/fhgec/images/father-son-talk_web.jpg)

Modern Family

Truth Thursday

Being a product of the 1970s, I can sing the theme songs to any number of mind-numbing, puerile television shows, as can most Americans who are around my age.  

Gilligan’s Island. Green Acres. Petticoat Junction. Family Affair. F Troop. H.R. Pufnstuf. The Addams Family. Even The Patty Duke Show. (and I worry about how much TV my kids watch?!)

And then there was the mother of them all ... The Brady Bunch. 

When I was 10, I lived for the Brady Bunch. I wanted to be the Brady Bunch. I had a profound crush on Peter, knowing that most other girls were in love with Greg, so perhaps I had a chance. I sighed with Marcia, cried with Jan, and wished I had corkscrew curls like Cindy. I never quite understood the little flips in Carol’s hair, or why, as a stay-at-home mom, she needed a full-time housekeeper (although I have a better idea today what it must have been like to care for six children. And Tiger. Maybe there was valium in that medicine cabinet after all.) 

I dreamed about having a groovy California staircase with no risers and a dad who would wear bell bottoms. And having two parents who would sit down with me whenever I had even the slightest problem in school. 

Oh, the Brady Bunch. The way a family was supposed to be. 

In my house, not so much.