are things complicated yet?

A sliver and a chunk

I resigned from my job a while ago, for all of the usual reasons a person resigns from her job. After having been employed for ten years, and spending thousands and thousands of hours in a cubicle, it has been weird to suddenly...not.

There is a big chunk of my professional life that I do not miss. I do not miss the never-ending juggle, that part where everyone gets where they need to be every day, with all of the things and lunches and papers and backpacks that we all need to make it to dinner time when we finally come back together as a family. I do not miss feeling rushed and pressed for time, constantly, ohmygod CONSTANTLY. I don't miss feeling tired all the time. I do not miss Sunday night phone calls from VPs, about trivial matters that can wait for Monday. I do not miss working in the evening, on weekends, and in my sleep. I do not miss the rigid schedule and the ever-present fear of failing the schedule: missing daycare pick up, missing a meeting, missing nap linens, missing deliverables. I do not miss finding something to wear in the morning that doesn't require ironing. I do not miss the nutritional disaster that was my diet, simply because I didn't have time to think about it in advance. I do not miss never working out, because, again, there was no time. I do not miss how everything was a power struggle with the clock: there never felt like there was enough time to do everything and so, obviously, not everything got the attention I wanted to give. Whether it was simply reality or my own time management failures, I do not miss the ever-present awareness of Not Enough Time To Do It All. Everyone (kids, husband, office, kitchen floor, laundry, etc) got enough attention, perhaps more than enough to thrive but not nearly the amount that I wanted to give, and that was terribly difficult for me to be aware of.

I do not miss all of...that.

There is a sliver of my professional life that I do miss, that I think about often and wish I could have. It is the part where I was doing something I liked, something I was good at, something that was plain old fun. It is the part where I kick ass and take names, negotiate the hell out of something or make something right for a customer or a client. It was cooking up something clever or problem-solving or brilliant. It was feeling smart and intelligent and valued, even for simple things that come easy to me. It is the feeling of managing a global team from my inbox, all working towards the same goal, and closing out each day with a delightful list of Items Completed. It is power stilettos and dry-clean-only clothes and a commute by myself with time to hear my own thoughts. It is a paycheck with bright and shiny health insurance. It is a hot cup of coffee on my desk and something that is Mine, All Mine and I don't have to share it with my kids or my husband and goddamit, I am GOOD at it. People LIKE ME. These things are only a sliver, but I do think about them.

I miss that sliver.

And that's probably all I'll ever have to say on the topic.

7 quick takes about nothing in particular but that all seem to end up being about New Baby anyway

1. I am only working for three days this week. Starting on Thursday I'll be on maternity leave. This fills me with a great deal of joy (WOOOOOO NO WORKING FOR A LONG TIME) and a great deal of panic (OMG THE BABY IS GOING TO BE HERE SOON MUST SLEEP WHILE WE CAN).

2. Claire is only going to school for three days this week as well and the reason we're not going to send her while I am on leave is complicated and involves me getting angry at someone and perhaps I'll tell the story to you later, but for now the simple reality is that I'll be a 9-months-pregnant and on maternity leave SAHM in about 72 hours.

3. Holy crap, what in the hell are we going to do all day? Especially if New Baby is late and I end up pregnant for 4 more weeks? (AUGHHHH PLEASE NO, NOT AGAIN.) I mean, normally I would be so excited about not working and playing around all day long but I am trying to keep my activity to a minimum and Claire is, um, not really on board with that idea. We have a lot of lunch dates planned and the neighborhood pool opens this week but I have to wonder, does anyone care to see a 38-weeks pregnant woman at the pool?  Probably no.

4. Did you know that once you get to be 37-38 weeks pregnant that your maternity shirts that used to fit?  Haaa, they don't fit any more. Is very insulting.

5. Today my parents were in town and I was showing them New Baby's room and my dad asked Claire who was going to be sleeping in this room.  Claire, ever the show-off, obliged him with "Baby (Her Actual Name) will sleep here!" My parents got kind of wide-eyed and I laughed and didn't say anything to confirm or deny the name she spouted off (but it was her actual, real, going-on-the-birth-certificate name).  We just sort of laughed about it and acted like it never happened.  Later on, my Mom said something about baby Michelle. Nope, her name's not Michelle. Not even close. Thank goodness for the garbled English of a two-year-old.

6. Things I still need to do, that will probably not get done: See optometrist and dentist. Get haircut.

7. The other day an Annoying Daycare Mom that I haaaaaate for a lot of reasons (primary one being that she parks her car in the handicapped spot EVERY DAY even though there are TONS of empty places elsewhere) saw me walking in and said, "Oh! You're going to be delivering soon, aren't you!?" First of all, who says "delivering"?? It's a little too exact on the events that will eventually transpire, don't you think? Particularly for casual conversation? And second of all, if you don't know a pregnant lady it's just not wise to comment on her obvious pregnant-ness. You just DON'T. I told her, "Nope. Not really very soon at all actually." She just said "Oh."  I don't think she felt badly or anything, because she's really just that disconnected from reality which drove me up the wall even more.

There was a time in my life where I thought snow was really neat. I am not currently living in that time.

When I was in elementary school (K, first and second grades) we lived in Rochester, New York. It's far away from NYC, and even though my Dad PROMISED that while we lived in New York he'd take me to see the Statue of Liberty, I didn't see it until I was, oh, about 29 or so. (It's cool though, Dad. I do not see this as your definining moment as a parent. The Statue of Liberty was sort of lame anyway so I can TOTALLY understand why you might not have been psyched about that one.)

Anyhoodle, we lived there for a couple of years and I have fond memories of sledding and ice skating and my pink snow suit.

Me and my brother, in front of the most enormous tree ever, that happened to live in our front yard. Please note how totally AWESOME my pink snow suit is, as the snow suit for the next season is decidedly less so.

One spring the snow melted and my mom found either a shoe or a mitten that my brother had lost MONTHS ago. I can just imagine how that one went down:

4-year-old comes inside with one shoe/mitten.

Where's your shoe/mitten?

Um, it fell off in the snow or perhaps some other explanation that was far less coherent.

Mom looks at three feet of snow that covers enormous back yard and realizes there is NO WAY she's going to locate the shoe/mitten until the snow melts. And the snow will not melt until Easter.  Dammit, now she has to buy more shoes/mittens for the 4-year-old.

My mom tells me that she loved living up there during those years.  She had one kid in grade school and the other in preschool (oh, how I look forward to that marvelous day when both children are regularly occupied outside of my supervision) and once or twice a week she'd run up to Bristol Mountain with her gobs of free time and ski a half day and be home in time to pick us up. Doesn't that sound totally awesome? Go skiing in the morning, hang with kids in the afternoon, have dinner on the table by 6. It's like she was a Real Housewife of Rochester, 1985 (Before They Got Stuck Up And Richy-Rich).

One of my favorite things to do in the winter was have my Dad pick me up and throw me into the gigantic snow drifts.  He'd throw us into mountains of soft, pillowy snow and we'd laugh and giggle and demand that he "do it again!" One time he didn't know that the snow wasn't soft and pillowy, it was ICY and HARD and he chucked his firstborn into a big hill of ice. I slid down to the bottom of it in a crying heap.  Can you imagine?

Toss child.

THWACK!

Ohmygod.

I was (understandably) upset and I'm sure he felt awful, but I guess that's a risk of parenting when there's snow: snow injuries.

Claire has not asked, nor have we offered, to let her play in the snow and ice this week.

The snow suit I had after the pink one. This blue color and sort of patchwork-y look isn't as cute as the all pink from last year.

AND! BY THE WAY! The picture on the fridge? Is one my brother drew of a dragon BBQ'ing me. YES. SO KIND OF HIM.

I don't remember my father shoveling the driveway, (and yet, here's a picture to prove it) but he must have spent a LOT of time doing that. I don't think we had a snowblower and I remember our driveway as being freakishly long. That must have sucked.

The neighbors behind us had a daughter my age and her mom always let the kids make an ice skating rink in the backyard, which I thought was BEYOND cool as my parents never let us do that in our yard no matter how much we begged. They turned on the hose, let it flood a certain part of the yard and after it froze we'd put on old ice skates they kept in the downstairs hall closet and try to twirl gracefully in our marshmallow-y snowsuits like we'd seen the girls do on TV.  (I am sure we were the exact opposite of graceful.) My friend was much more adept at ice skating and I spent a lot of time falling down. A few times, a spot in our yard froze over but it was never, ever as good as the rink made on purpose.

I don't think I ever asked my parents if I could take figure skating lessons.

Me, my brother and my neighbor best friend, Kendra. I'm not even sure I'm wearing skates here.

And then there were the older neighborhood boys with daredevil sledding antics. There was a marvelous hill between two houses that had a creek in the middle of it. It was steep and high and was just PERFECT for sledding. Only problem was that creek in the middle. The running water sometimes froze, but not often. If you weren't careful you'd end up in the creek and all wet and, well, that would end your sledding for the day pretty fast. The boys were always game to spend time on that hill, always able to stop in time, always egging each other on. Me? I was absolutely frightened of landing in the creek and I hardly ever worked up the courage to try the big hill.

***

There are two inches of ice surrounding all paved areas that lead out of our home to civilization and social interaction. We've been stuck inside for three days with a fourth ahead of us. A FOURTH.

It's supposed to snow tonight and they say the ice and snow won't even begin to melt until Saturday afternoon and all next week it's going to freeze again every night anyway. Anything that manages to melt in the daylight will re-freeze at night and...it's going to be SHITTY and ICY driving next week. We have several days of crap winter weather ahead of us.

While we maybe COULD have driven to the office today, Claire's school is closed and has been closed and will be closed tomorrow. No child care = no in-office working.

We have been spending our days ping-ponging between answering email/doing puzzles and taking conference calls/passing out graham crackers. We have also spent time a lot of time watching YouTube.  After three days, we are all tired of YouTube, puzzles, blocks and even the emergency surprise toys I had hidden for a week just like this.

We're getting a little stir crazy.

In a moment of inspiration (heavily influenced by the many episodes of Mr. Wizard that I watched as a child) I busted out some water, food coloring and measuring cups this afternoon.

TOTAL HIT!

We made rainbows today. Actually, we made several rainbows. We made rainbows for well over an hour.

And if that's not the very definition of making the best out of a so-so situation, I don't know what is.

 

December, by the numbers

17: Packages to mail, which will require a trip to the post office, which will surely result in unjustified rage and elevated blood pressure, which is bad for the baby, so I'm thinking I'll make Chris do it.

14: People are coming to my house for Christmas dinner. (Only 2 of them are spending the night.)

6: Days left of work for me in 2010.

0: Christmas cards we sent out this year. I feel like I should feel guilty about this, but I don't. Am a Scrooge of the most magnificent, stamp-hoarding order.

6: Christmas cards recieved so far. Apparently you get what you give on this one.

0: Twee little pink frilly things bought for New Baby.

16: Names that are on the Potential Names for New Baby List.

3: Names that we semi-agree on.

3: Names that Chris contributed to the list. (Why YES, they ARE the very same three that we semi-agree on. Isn't that remarkable?)

0: Boxes in New Baby's room. We cleaned it out a few weeks ago and...haven't touched it since then.

1: Gingerbread house completed.

30,000,000: Requests per day from a small person to eat the candy on the gingerbread house.

8: Orders we've made from Amazon.com this month. Amazon Prime is the only way to go, people.

400: Dollars we spent on a recent visit to the vet for Jake. Don't worry, he's okay. Just old. (Newsflash!)

The Montessori Update

We've been doing the Montessori preschool/daycare for 4 months and I have to admit, I kind of love it. There are parts I don't love, but mostly I like it.

PROS

It is ridiculously close to our house. I could walk if I wanted, which I will never actually do, since as a matter of everyday protocol I do not recreationally walk anywhere functional.  (Around the block? Sure! To the grocery store? Why would I do that?) But, in case of EMERGENCY, like an electro-magnetic pulse that makes my car not start like in War of the Worlds? I could walk.  Having it so close means that we can share drop off/pick up which has been the true change that makes the location a good choice for us. It was also convenient this morning when I forgot all of her nap stuff at home and had to turn around and go back.

Since we pick her up by 4 every day we are actually only paying for the "school" part and not "extended care" and the cost is only $4 more per month than the old place. (That was a nice surprise. If we leave her past 4 though, we have to pay $10/hour. Annoying.)

Claire seems to be learning a lot. Hard to tell if it's just because she's getting older and the subject matter would have got more complex no matter where she was, but she DID count to 5 in Spanish this week, totally randomly while playing with Chris, and she's been saying NI HAO! for months and I finally had to ask Maggie what the heck it means because it was driving me nuts how she'd yell NI HAO NI HAO NI HAO on Thursdays when she got in the car. (It means "hello.")

No food issues/annoyances. She eats what we pack and they provide really healthy, normal snacks like cubed cantaloupe.  No Cheetos, unlike the last place.

The fire truck comes to visit once a week and the kids looooooove that.

They have better toys than her old place.

Granted, she has spent most of the summer there and not the winter but Claire hasn't been sick in a loooong time. She used to get sick fairly often, and with such typical group childcare bugs. I can't decide if it's because she's older and she has some sense of immune system, if this place is just cleaner, if older kids actually wash their hands more so it's a function of growing up, or if there's something magical in the water.

CONS

I have no idea what her teacher's name is. By the time I pick her up at 330/345 every day the teacher has been gone for about 10 minutes.  I drop her off at 730 and the "school" part of the day with a teacher doens't start until 830.  Oh, I know all of her caregivers because there are always several girls in the room and I RECOGNIZE her teacher, but her name?  No idea. And now it's too late to ask so, kind of screwed on this one.

There is definitely a snob vibe going on. There is one mom who parks her Hummer in the handicapped spot EVERY DAY even though she lacks a proper placard and this riles me up beyond description.  When we drop Claire off at 730 she's usually the third or fourth kid to arrive at the entire school, so it's clear that most parents are using this not as daycare and more as actual school (which starts at 830) (and holy crap that is some expensive plain old preschool). At her old school she was the last kid to arrive at 730.

They don't take credit cards and I feel like I'm sacrificing a lot of miles.

OTHER

We are that family that never participates in anything above and beyond.  We did not attend the summer picnic. When they asked parents to bring in flowers on a rotating basis weekly, I didn't sign up (the children allegedly enjoy flower arranging - how snobbily suburban of them). We didn't bring anything to the potluck Thanksgiving dinner in the classroom. I didn't buy anything at the book fair. I did send Claire to school with a can of pinto beans for the food drive, but only because I thought she'd like picking out the can and dumping it in the box. (I also had what seemed like a lot of cans of pinto beans in the pantry.)

Most of the time I roll my eyes at all the extra curricular garbage that I am constantly getting notes about or seeing signs on the door for. The facility has children up to third grade (or close to that) so it DOES function as a legit school for most of the kids and I can see how participatory things like this foster more sense of community and other complex developmental blabbity-blah for higher grades.  But, my kid is two. TWO. Is all of this really necessary for a toddler that has to be walled in at night to sleep?

First off, I already pay a quarterly Activities Fee. I do not appreciate being asked to pay for ANYTHING outside of that fee.  The fee should cover it.  THAT IS WHY THE FEE EXISTS. When they ask me to bring flowers I think, "But, wait a minute, I ALREADY PAY." If you want the kids to arrange flowers then fine, just make sure you roll it into the Activities Fee.  I don't care what you buy with it but I don't want to pay MORE.

And the book fair.  Ugh, the book fair.  There were notes about please visit the book fair because the school gets X% of the sales and we can buy new do-dads with that money and won't that be LOVELY?  All I could think is...but this is a private school.  I ALREADY PAY.  Why would I feel compelled to pay MORE?  I already think this private Montessori school that lets a mom park her big ass Hummer in the handicapped spot every day is too expensive.  Is the current tuition not enough? Why are you trying to eke more money out of me? I ALREADY PAY.

Second, there is also a part of me that feels this is more of an older kid thing. Older kids probably passively guilt their parents into participating in extras like this and I think this likely happens at public school too.  It turns into a sort of well-intentioned public shaming thing.  Older kids KNOW when their mom says "No, we will not take flowers," and they feel left out and other kids see it too and that's how taunting can happen. Sure, I want my child to participate and be social and be liked. I want her to learn to be generous and be responsible for bringing things for/to the class and other people, but I just don't think we're there yet.

That is, the concept of being left out in terms of who brings flowers for the class or who gets to go to the book fair is a little beyond her at this point.  An older kid will absolutely want to visit a book fair and have an opportunity to spend $10 as she sees fit, all by herself.  But my two-year-old?  No. Also? I ALREADY PAY. I do not enjoy paying for things twice.

IN CONCLUSION

The Montessori "method" and "philosophy" is pretty well lost on me. I don't pay a lot of attention to it and Claire seems to be fine so I play along but I roll my eyes a lot. I think they have their game together in terms of classroom organization and teaching the kids how to do some basic chores (push your chair back in at the table, put your nap linens back in your bag), plus they seem to do lots of fun, messy things I don't like doing at home (fingerpainting, play-doh, markers, glitter).

I suppose I like some structure more than a total lack of structure, but the things that drew me to the facility in the first place are still tops on my list: location and food. It's working for us.

It's perfect for me

Every morning I get dressed, make lunches, locate shoes, drop her off at school and go to work.  I come home after a day at my desk, tired and hungry because I forgot to eat lunch again and I've been talking talking typing reading thinking for hours and all I want to do in the whole wide world is sit quietly for ten minutes with my eyes closed and not read email, not converse, not dial the phone, not think, not anything. 

But I can't.  My second career for the day has started.  It's time to play with blocks and ride the bicycle (tricycle) and get cereal bars from the pantry.  It's time to defrost some chicken for dinner and unload the dishwasher, sort the mail, start some laundry.  I am asked to turn on Elmo, Nemo, Elmo, Nemo, ELMO!  I run and I jump and I play and I dance and I hide and I seek on command.  I give her crayons and paper and warn her about the walls.  I fill the tub with warm bubbly water and watch her make maw-ga-weetas with a plastic cup that she shakes high above her head and I smother her with kisses and books before tucking her into bed with her favorite stuffed monkey.  I always wonder if it was enough.  Did I do a good job at this today?  I think so.

Then I take on my third role for the day.  I sit and talk, really talk, with my husband and 3 nights out of 5 I wait to make our dinner until after she's gone to bed so we can eat it in peace with giant glasses of wine that we savor in the dim twilight of a lingering summer.  We talk about the news and the stupid politicians and this funny thing someone said on Twitter.  We talk about people we know and things we want to buy when we have limitless stores of cash.  We watch Netflix and television on the sofa, me curled up next to him, the dog at my feet.

Sometimes I go to the gym or I plan birthday parties.  I make grocery lists, I fold laundry or I sit upstairs and watch 4 episodes of True Blood because he doesn't like it and I love it. I get a pedicure with my friend down the street because out here in the suburbs people I know actually live close to me.  I talk to my friends in the computer and I troll the unlimited content of my reader.  I putter.  I sit and I finally get my quiet time.  Sometimes.

It is tough and grinding and exhausting, this daily juggle of wants and needs.  It is constant prioritization, sacrifice and muscle.  It is weighing This versus That a thousand times for a variety of people.  Some days, it seems like either everyone is happy or nobody is happy and there is no in-between.  I fight with my roles and pit them against each another, calm with the knowledge that I'll never, ever achieve the perfect version of a stupid notion called balance. (I'd like to smack the person who came up with THAT idea.)  I tell myself that my life isn't complex, but as I go through the motions of each day I'm always shown that it actually is.  Admitting that things are complicated isn't a weakness.  It's just a fact.

I wish there were more hours in the day to get everything neat and tidy for the next one. I wish I had more time with her and with him and for me. It is wonderful and at times it can be horrible, but this life is all mine.  We are lucky to have opportunities to push and pull the mechanisms that impact our day-to-day.  It's these opportunities to control our own destiny that remind me we're living a quintessential American story. 

It's not a perfect life.  Not a magazine or television life.  Hell, it's not even good enough for a post on a shelter or design blog (just look at the three half-eaten containers of yogurt that have been on the kitchen countertop all day).  Even though it's messy and I'm guaranteed hard work in every day, it's my life and I'm fortunate that it's entirely up to me to make it as good or as bad as I want. 

I deeply value my freedom to make my own decisions.  There's nobody but myself to say I can't do something.  I live with my successes and I live with my failures.

It's kind of kick-ass to have that kind of power. A lot of people worldwide don't. I can do or be or change whatever I want.

I'm thinking about making myself a cape.  It'll make the drudgery of laundry a little more exciting, don't you think?

Preschool, Part 2: I have had so many confrontational conversations in the past week, even I can't believe it.

We ended up moving Claire to the fancypants preschool on Monday, and it's been going okay.  We are thrilled with the place but Claire is going to require a bit more...persuasion.

At first she was excited, but then she figured out that we intended to LEAVE her and, well, it's been rough what with the daily tantrums at drop-off and overly-grateful face I see when I pick her up in the afternoon.  I mean really, Claire.  It's not like Mommy dropped you off at a Turkish prison for the day.  They have a baby grand piano here. It's the height of suburban snobbery.

We didn't come to this decision lightly, and your thoughts were so helpful, but I just kept thinking about what the objectives were and how her current school wasn't meeting any of them.  The old school got a big fat F on all three. 

Ideal Preschool/Daycare Objectives

1. Close to house

2. Feeds children decent food

3. Has intelligent staff

When I looked at it on paper, practically and rationally, it was no contest.  I had looked for other solutions nearby and this was really the best fit.  Talking to some of you really made me see that the cost isn't SO exorbitant.  Childcare is just really expensive and it's absolutely the sort of thing that, to me, is worth paying more to get exactly what I want.  We ponied up the cash and enrolled her.We felt good about it

And then last Thursday, I had a conversation with the director at the old school that was so validating and made me feel GREAT about moving her. 

A'Dell: Hi, Friday will be Claire's last day here. Do you need me to fill out a form or anything for that?

Director: Oh. Her last day?  So...you've already given us two weeks' notice? (Superior tone, pointed look.)

A: Um, no.  Her last day is tomorrow. (Firm, not taking the bait.)

D: Well, in the handbook it DOES state that you need to give us two weeks notice. (Very haughty now.)

A: Or else...what?  What happens if you don't get two weeks notice? (I know full well that the answer is NOTHING since there's no deposit.)

D: (Realizing she has screwed up, sounding a bit more kind.) Well, it's really just a courtesy notice.

A: Well, I'm not giving it to you.  Her last day is tomorrow.

D: Oh.  Okay.  Did...did something happen?

A: Well, I haven't been happy with the facility for a long time and we've found another solution.

D: (Barely audible) Oh. Okay.

AND THAT WAS IT.  She didn't say anything else.  She refused to make eye contact with me for the entire conversation and even after I said I wasn't happy with the facility she didn't even bother to ask me WHY.  It was like we were in high school and I was dumping her. 

***

The new place is good but I'm finding that I seem to have a very adversarial attitude toward her care providers and it doesn't seem to matter WHO they are - new place or old.  It's a weird blend of privacy rights and parental rights with a sprinkling of practical and rational thinking. I think I would have these issues with any place.

For example, when they tell me that binkies aren't allowed it makes me challenge that on a rational level.  Like, WHY aren't they allowed?  I get that some people think they're undesirable but I'm not bringing in a binky for EVERY KID.  Why can't my kid have one?  Don't I get to make the decision on when she's through with it?  What makes you think that you get to make this decision?  I really, really hate rules just for the sake of rules.

Or, the form I filled out that had some confusing instructions on it.  I gently and kindly suggested they change the language in the interest of clarity.  I was told that they CAN'T change the language because it's a state form.  (It was not a state form.)  They kept parroting back STATE! FORM! STATE! FORM! like it was so holy and untouchable. 

It was a Word Document with their letterhead on it. 

It might be INFORMATION the state requires you gather, but lady, it is not a state form. If it was, it would have the seal of the State of Texas on it and letterhead from the Department of Family and Protective Services.  This isn't a state form and don't tell me that just to shut me up.  Tell me that you'll talk to someone about it or you don't know how to edit it but you'll check it out.  But don't lie.  Don't blame it on the government.  I'M SMART.  I SEE THROUGH YOU. If you don't know the answer, just freaking say so.

Then there was also the registration form that wanted to know where both Chris and I worked.  There was a blank for "employer" and I thought, "Why do they need this information?  Why is this vital/crucial to the service they're providing me?"  So, I left it blank.  Same when they requested Claire's Social Security Number - I opted to leave that blank too. (Let's try to keep identity theft a low risk for her until she's at least say, 13.)

***

I think my quick-to-anger tendency on the topic has to do with the fact that I'm a pretty laid back parent.  I have discovered that my "Parenting Style" (what an awful phrase) is pretty laissez-faire and that surprises me. 

As confrontational as I am, I fail to see the practical reason to put both Claire and I through the misery of taking her binky away, cold turkey, the same week she starts a new school.  I just....think that's stupid.  (Apparently, I only enjoy confrontations with purpose.) Why make everyone miserable for the sake of a perceived societal norm that really isn't the norm? I know plenty of three-year-olds with binkys.  It's...not really a big deal.  This rule is kind of dumb and not based on anything practical.

I don't want to create a situation where I'm THAT parent that fights with the director all the time but it's hard to strike a balance between what I want as the parent and what they need to make sure the classroom is normal all day. 

I think I'm extra sensitive on the topic because on some level I feel like sending her there is a choice, when it's really not.  Like, I CHOOSE to send you to this preschool even though I don't really want to because since I'm the Mommy I should want to stay at home with you all day because...that's what all of the "best" Mommies are supposed to do?  That makes everyone at preschool an enemy that I pick apart and make sure is up to my sky-high standards. 

And that's so dumb because it's not even true.  It's not really a choice, it's The Way Things Are.  These people are helping me.  Unless we suddenly came into Rockefeller-type money (HA HA HA), I can't see myself ever not working.  And even if I wasn't working in a traditional sense, I would still need childcare to pursue projects on my own.

There are definitely moments that I think, "I should just let that go," but there are so many others that make me want to stop and point fingers and say, "This is kind of stupid, right?"

So that's where we are with preschool now.  Still a little angsty, but heading in the right direction.

Ending on a high note, look at this fantastic backpack and lunch bag that I got from Land's End. Claire has been wearing the backpack around the house and insisted on carrying her lunch bag by herself this morning.  They're a hit.

If the cost of preschool shocks me, I don't even want to know what college is going to cost in 2028. DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME.

Let's talk daycare and preschool for a little bit, shall we?  Claire has been in the same daycare since she was 3 months old. 

The facility is across the street from my office, offers a discount because of where I work and is unbelievably convenient for me to pick up and drop off.  Our old house was on that side of town and it was also on the way to work for Chris. It was a great first daycare for Claire AND us.

And yet.

There were always THINGS about the facility that irked me.  The director always seemed more interested in pacifying me rather than giving me a solid, actionable answer.  She and her staff seemed to alternately panic about illness ("Your kid is kind of hot. AIEEE! Take her home!") or be completely nonplussed ("Swine Flu? Yeah, we plan to...sanitize toys? If someone gets it?  It's just the flu -- no big deal!").  The name of the school had a misspelled word in it, I think to make them "unique," but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was an error I was giving them too much credit for.

Their policies and procedures seemed contrived at times.  After one year you get 5 days of "vacation" free.  I asked for it and was told I had to give 30 days notice and take it all in the same calendar week. Really?

They give the kids crap for snacks and encourage parents to bring in all kinds of HFCS-laced monstrosities for birthdays (every week it seems). The "teachers" are kind, but too-young and sometimes a bit flip for me. They don't really seem on the up-and-up.  They told me she was behind on her vaccinations but failed to understand that combination vaccines take care of more than one disease. 

Keep in mind that I collected all of these anecdotes over 18 months; one offense last year wasn't enough for me to leave, but now? Ugh, now I'm annoyed and I feel like I have to double check them constantly on administrative topics.

As an infant it was an ideal place for her. But as a toddler, my viewpoint changed dramatically.  I didn't want her eating CHEETOS for afternoon snack when I'd packed blueberries.  And yet, there she was, with fake powdered cheese all over her face one day.  I cringed when I saw the garish cupcakes and store-bought brick of fake rice-krispie treats another parent had brought in for a birthday.  

When the receptionist told me that she had hand foot and mouth disease (Oh? You're a doctor AND a receptionist? That's incredible!) and that I needed to keep her home for DAYS, even though CDC policy on the virus in a group childcare setting said she absolutely DID NOT, I was annoyed for days. 

She even had the gall to say, "CDC?"

I literally said, in my most "holy crap, you are an idiot" voice,

"THE UNITED STATES CENTERS FOR DISEASE CONTROL?  SURELY YOU HAVE HEARD OF IT AND ARE FAMILIAR WITH THEIR POLICIES ON THE TOPIC SINCE THAT IS YOUR MOTHER FUCKING JOB."

(Okay, maybe I didn't say "mother fucking".  But I was thinking it and my tone said it for me.)

I thought about, and shopped for, another solution many times.  In the end I always came back to the killer rate, the location close to my office, the fact that I seemed to be able to mitigate the unhealthy snacks most days (I know that I can't shield her from Cheetos and crappy baked good forever) and even though the director might be kind of dim, it isn't hurting Claire, it was just annoying the crap out of me.  She isn't being HARMED by staying there during the day.  On the contrary, many days she REFUSED TO LEAVE and Tantrum Claire greeted me with "NO, NO, NO! NO GO HOME! WANT TO PLAY!"

(I'm happy to see you too, Claire.)

When we moved last March, the location was no longer desirable, so they only had the rate working for them at this point.  I was the only one who could pick up/drop off.  While this hasn't been SO difficult (after all, I do go to work every day) it would be better if she was closer to the house so we could have more flexibility.

I wondered if I was being too picky about the whole thing.  Too snobby?  Unrealistic, perhaps? Eh, maybe.  My threshold for stupid is low.  But it doesn't change the fact that I want what I want. 

I started shopping the preschools and daycare facilities near the new house.  To my absolute HORROR, they all cost at least 20% more.  ALL OF THEM, without exception, with plenty costing 30% and 40% more.  Moving 20 miles to a legit suburb with a grocery store down the street means that daycare costs an ASTRONOMICAL amount here.

I was not prepared for that.  I reconsidered the situation.  Two months went by.  I continued to be alternately annoyed and fine. They introduced Claire to Froot Loops.  I made a face.

And that brings us to last week when I was doing some casual Googling with a new set of keywords.  I found what looked like a promising place, just around the corner.  We took a tour and it was HEAVEN.  Just like the Belinda Carlisle song: HEAVEN ON EARTH. It was that amazing.

The lunches are catered in by a local company, locally sourced and nothing is fried.  They'll allow me to pack a lunch for her. (Weirdly enough, that has been a challenge to find; a lot of places are playing the Allergy Card and telling me that it's too risky to allow parents to bring in lunch because of The Kids With Peanut and Wheat and Egg and Milk Allergies.  I understand that, but, uh, what you're feeding them is not healthy, you idiots.  It's basically school lunch from the Sysco truck and we know how messed up THAT is.  I was tempted to tell them that my child is allergic to HFCS and corn products in general, and see what they did what that information.) 

The school we looked at has a blanket no-sugary snacks policy.  There's a library with a ton of books and tiny sofas with wee ottomans.  There's an indoor gym with a parachute, hula hoops and a PE teacher. There's a music room that has a Julliard graduate teaching kids how to, I don't know, ding a triangle or something while she plays the BABY GRAND PIANO.  (I wonder if she thinks this is a good use of her education?) 

The kids take Spanish and Mandarin Chinese language lessons twice a week.  (This is hysterical to me since it's the dictionary definition of a Snobtastic Preschool. It's something you'd read in The Nanny Diaries. Chinese and Spanish for a 21-month-old! Heeeee!)  There's a garden outside that the kids dig around in.  They have extra classes that rotate every few weeks; dance, karate, origami (no, wait, I made that last one up -- but you believed it, DIDN'T YOU?!).  They do BABY YOGA every day at 3p, which makes me laugh because it's so obviously stupid and a parent marketing trick and yet I'm strangely attracted to it.

BABY YOGA!  YES!  I AM INTERESTED!  SIGN US UP!

It's bright, cheery and happy and less than one mile from our house. The director claims to be a germaphobe and I love that.

BUT. There is a huge BUT. (You knew that was coming, right?)

It's a full 33% more expensive than where she is now.  A THIRD. How is this even possible?!?!  It was nice, but the kids weren't like, eating off of solid gold plates or anything. (Maybe they're paying that music teacher more than I think.)

It's also a Montessori school, and I'm not quite sure what I think about that.  I'm still forming an opinion and I'd love yours if you have one. (Either way, good or bad, please pipe up if you have thoughts.)

So, I'm back where I started.  Again.  I like the piano-yoga-chinese-origami school but it's too expensive.  I'm more okay with the price at more run-of-the-mill facilities in the area (even though they're 20% more) but I have really, really strong feelings about that food they give them. I hate it.  I think it's unhealthy.  I don't want her to eat that every day.

*SIGH*

Preschool.  Nobody told me it would be so full of drama.

Let's sort through the contents of my order from Gap, shall we?

I really love my UPS man.  He's so nice and kind and SUPER efficient.  He always stops by my house on his way back to the facility to see if we're home when there's a signature required.  (Those packages are always a case of wine and, well, I think he understands that we'd like to have that in our hot little hands as soon as possible.)

Today Kevin (yeah, I know his name), dropped off the best box of fun ever.  It is a Big Box Of Banana Republic Fun!

Let's take inventory, shall we?

(Oh, wait.  Something you should know about me is that I habitually order several hundred dollars worth of clothes online and then only keep a fraction of it.  I actually visit the stores in person to decide what I am going to order ONLINE so I can try it on at home without a certain wiggly, whiny someone getting int he way of me making a good purchasing decision.  Lame?  Certainly.  But it works for me.)

(Also, I got 25% off the whole order because of some promo they were running so I was in a "the more the merrier" sort of mood.)

So.  Let's delve into the box, shall we?

***

Supersoft layering v-neck T, Color: true black

$19.50

Supersoft layering v-neck T, Color: new navy
$19.50

So, I got these shirts in navy and black with the intent of wearing them a lot after work and on the weekends.  I really love a good v-neck, it flatters my particular body type and I hate high crew necks because I always feel like I'm choking.  Plus, with 25% off they were like $14

Sailor pencil skirt

Color: true black

$49.50

I hated this skirt for unspecified reasons.  Also?  Too expensive for a dumb black skirt.  RETURN!

Knit pants

Color: red

Unit price: $12.50 $4.99

Dudes!  I love slash-through pricing on my invoice!  Look at all that cash I saved.  And, in case you didn't figure it out, these are pants for CLAIRE, not me.

 

Little pocket T

Color: strawberry

Unit price: $19.50 $9.99

For $10?  I LOVE THIS SHIRT.  It's soft, the sleeves go to mid-palm, (which I love in the winter) and it's such a bright fun color.  And also?  It looks great under this dress:

Double-knit pleated dress

Color: true black knit

Unit price: $59.50

Now, truthfully?  This dress is no great find.  It's just a stupid, black, shapeless dress that you can wear on your fattest of fat days and still be all, "But hey!  I'm wearing a dress to work so that's better than pajamas!"  Because of the empire waist, I could probably even wear this pregnant until about month 7.  So yeah, it's not that flattering.  But I have decided that dresses are my New Work Thing so I'm actively trying to find some that are simple, easy to accessorize, comfortable, non dry-clean-only and less than $100.  This fits the bill.  Sold.

Quilted barn jacket

Color light english rose

Unit price $34.50

I wanted to keep Claire warm this winter.  This is the jacket I picked.  Like the reviews on the site though, it's kind of smallish.  Will be exchanging for the next size up.  Cute coat though and after the coupon it was just as much as the ones at Target that I didn't think were nearly as cute.  I mean, this one has polka dots.  POLKA DOTS.  I cannot say no to those.

Origami sheath dress

Color Black

Unit price $142.00 $89.99

Again with the dresses for work thing.  I'm pretty short-waisted, so this dress didn't fit me correctly.  There was about 3" too much dress in the waist and it looked rather frump.  On a 3" taller person though, this dress would be super cute. RETURN!

Lightweight wool sheath dress

ColorTaupe heather

Unit price $152.00 

I knew this was more than I wanted to pay for a dress, but I just thought it was so cute on the model.  (Note to self:  YOU ARE NOT A MODEL.)  I even looked for it in-store to try on so I could avoid ordering a $152 dress.  But my local Banana was out of them, which made me think that maybe it might be a totally awesome dress since it was all sold out.  It's not.  The pleats are all retarded and look stupid.  RETURN!

Long-sleeve turtleneck sweater

Color Black

Unit price $59.50

They had this sweater under the dress above and really it was SO cute.  So I tried it.  And it looked stupid on me.  And this sweater is soft and nice but it hits me on the hip weird and makes me look fat so, no.  RETURN!

Eliza slouch high-heel boot

Color Black suede

Unit price $198

I only ordered these boots because after I was in San Francisco this summer and I saw EVERYONE wearing sassy boots I decided that I was woefully behind the times and I needed some sassy boots.  I also hate department stores, don't have time to drive 30 minutes to one and back to try on boots so I figured I needed to order SOME boots to try on and at least see if this was a trend I was interested in.

I AM INTERESTED.  I love these boots.  They have a too-high heel, the suede is totally impractical, they cost too much ($150 after my coupon...but still), you can't wear them in the rain, blah, blah, a thousand reasons to return them and....I can't.  I'm keeping them.  This is my splurge purchase of the season after a year and a half of not buying anything except maternity clothes, cheapie post-partum clothes I hated and pajamas. I'm keeping the damn boots.

I know I could probably find them elsewhere, at better quality for maybe the same price or less.  But, to be honest, I don't have time for that.  If I shopped around I'd be without boots until February.  That wouldn't be any fun.

***

Thus concludes the adventure with Banana Republic and Gap today.  Where are YOU shopping lately? Any finds?  I am discovering that I hate a lot of what's for sale this season, which is frustrating when I DO find ten minutes to dart into a store on my own.

Are you ready for some more working mom drama?

I've been back at work for 7 weeks.  It seems like such a long time.

Looking back at my posts right before and right after going back to the office I can't believe what a drama queen I was. 

Yes, this is a big deal.  Yes, it's this awful time management clusterfuck that I can never seem to win.  Yes, I miss my baby terribly during the day.  Yes, pumping is a giant pain and so is bottle washing.  Yes, I am sleeping even less because of some growth-spurt-regression and my refusal to just let her cry it out.  Yes, my house is a disaster most days. (All days.) Yes, OF COURSE I wish I could stay at home and eat bon-bons with Claire on the sofa.  (Because that's what SAHMs do, right?  Right?  Heh.)

But also?  I am kind of getting to a peaceful place with my new identity.  The haze is gradually clearing and I am starting to see the benefits of the Grand Trade I am making.

But dude, being a working mom is complicated.  SO FRICKING COMPLICATED. 

Let's put aside all of the high level stuff that falls under the broad category of Mommy Guilt. 

I can handle that.  (Well, eventually I can handle it.  Am still working on how to deal with my enormous rolling attache of Mommy Guilt that I tote to and from the office every day.) 

What is killing me is the day-to-day business of just managing to keep everyone fed and not tripping over Claire's toys in the living room.  Nothing beyond that - just keeping bellies full and the family uninjured are my priorities.  Anything beyond that (like, say, working out, laundry, writing thank you notes, organizing and sharing photos, returning phone calls, that all falls to the veeeeery back on my list) is simply beyond my capabilities.

For example, this is a typical work day:

430am - Claire wakes up.  Sometimes she is up for the day, sometimes she will go back to sleep for two hours.  Either way, she would like to eat at this time.

5 am - Claire is finished eating.  But I'm awake.  And Chris is awake now.  Let's say this is a day that Claire would like to NOT go back to sleep.  I'll play with her, make some oatmeal and coffee and play some more.  

530 am - Chris leaves for work.  (YES, he leaves godawful early.  But he also leaves the office at 2 pm.  Good trade.)

6 am - I put Claire in her crib to play with her reflection in her mirror while I take a shower. 

607 am  - It is not a long shower.  Claire demands my attention.  I cannot luxuriate in the hot water and steam and delicious smelling soap with someone wailing at me.

    (Incidentally, delightful smelling bath products are my new splurge of choice.  The Shower and Bath are things that I never really appreciated before becoming a Mom.  Now?  I see a Shower and Bath as Much Coveted Personal Time where I get to Be Alone and Close The Door for more than 5 minutes.  A steamy bubble bath with some pricey and yummy bubbles is quickly becoming my relaxation method of choice.)

610 am - Claire plays on the floor of the bathroom while I dry my hair, put on makeup and get dressed.  I never have anything to wear.  Claire has either barfed on a key wardrobe item that I wear frequently, barfed on something I wear infrequently, or everything is wet in the washing machine because we forgot to put things in the dryer last night.  I cobble together an "outfit" and swear that I will shop online sometime today at work.

Because I cannot keep walking out of the house looking like this.

630 am - Now it's time to get Claire dressed.  This is usually pretty fun since baby girl clothes are so damn cute. 

633 am - Claire yaks on her first outfit of the day.  We change her clothes to a secondary outfit.

635 am - Time to wrangle the baby into the car seat!  And put the 4 bags I need into the car (Laptop bag, her diaper bag, bottles, pump bag, purse).  It's too many bags, I know it, but I can't consolidate.  Claire is either happy in her car seat while I load them or royally pissed off.  There is no in-between.

7 am - We arrive at her day care school.  I check her in, pay fees (if it's Monday), put her bottles in the fridge, put blanket, burp rag, toy and bink in her crib, make small talk with her care providers, play with her a bit, say goodbye.

710 am - Head to my office.

715 - 730 am - I'm at my desk!  And I'm tired!  I go downstairs to the Starbucks in my building and get my second latte of the day.

745 am - I start my day at work.  Three hours after I got up. 

1130 am - I call to see how Claire is doing today.  She is always doing fine.  I always feel like a crazy Mom for calling.  I shop online a little bit.  I don't see anything I want to buy, even though I DESPERATELY need new clothes.  I figure I'll just find a new outfit somehow for tomorrow and not worry about it.

3 pm - I leave my office and go get Claire.

310 pm - I arrive and she is always happy to see me.  Make small talk again with her care providers.  Figure out how her day went.  Pack up all her bottles, blankies, etc.

315 pm - Put her in the car, grin at her and play for 30 seconds before we have to head home.  I always feel so dumb at this point of the day because I want to spend time with her, and technically I am, but she's in the backseat and I'm in the front...it's weird.

330 pm - OMG WE ARE FINALLY HOME.

330 - 5 pm - I snuggle with Claire and we play.  I nurse her.  We snuggle and play some more and I kiss her chubby neck a thousand times and exhale, "I missed you SO MUCH TODAY," into her dimpled cheek. Once a week we have to go to Wal-Mart during this time.  It always sucks but it's better than going on the weekend.

5 pm - Chris gets home.  (He runs some errands, goes to the gym after he leaves his desk.).  We get excited that Daddy is home.

530 pm - Hmm.  We are getting hungry.  Someone plays with the baby while someone else figures out dinner.

6 pm - Dinner is ready.  We eat it with Claire on someone's lap.  She tries to grab everything on the table.  It's funny to see how much better she gets every night at trying to yank things off the table.

6 - 730 pm - Play with the baby.  Give her a bath.  Put her in pajamas.  Play some more.  Read books.

730 - 8 pm - Sometime in here, Claire goes to sleep for the night.  She requires a bink and a few minutes of rocking and she's out.  We are constantly grateful for this one simple thing in our lives.

830 - Chris and I have time alone. 

OMG OMG OMG. TIME ALONE!  

But since we're so wiped out from our day all we want to do is veg out in front of the TV.  The idea of facing Jillian Michaels and my Shred DVD is impossible.  And, of course, it's dark outside and even though the gym is open until 11 there is NO WAY IN HELL I am going.

We usually elect to use this time drinking cocktails and watching DVR'd TV in our pajamas.  We think this is fabulous.  We do not do any dishes. 

Sometimes we get wild and crazy and put a load of laundry in the washing machine.  It will only get transferred to the dryer a few days later when we remember it or are missing clothes to wear.

Other nights we decide that we want to be really nerdy and do computer things.  I shop online, return emails, upload photos, blog.  He does...whatever it is he does.  Spending time with our laptops and not worrying about someone barfing on them feels highly indulgent these days.

1030 pm - Claire decides she would like to eat.  I feed her and she goes back down.  (We are working on dropping this feeding.  So far, not successful at all.  Any tips?)  Sometime in here, we decide that we would like to go to bed too.  We realize that we probably should have gone to bed an hour ago.

1030 pm - Except, OH CRAP, someone has to wash all the ten thousand bottle and pump parts so I can go to work tomorrow.  And this is the biggest whip ever.   And we are tired.  But we do it anyway.  And we hate it.  This week we finally learn that the dishwasher can handle the bottles and we just have to clean the smallish parts that don't fit in the basket.

We still hate it.

1050 pm - Shit.  What am I going to wear tomorrow?  Claire barfed on my frumpy cardigan of choice earlier tonight.  I decide that I'll worry about it in the morning.  Even after 7 weeks of this, I have yet to figure out that there is never ANYTHING TO WEAR IN THE MORNINGS.

230 am - Claire wakes to eat.

430 am  - It starts all over again.  Welcome to the next day.

And there you have it.  It's getting easier, and as she grows SHE is getting easier.  I know that it will not always be like this.

But sometimes?  In the middle of the night or in the mornings when there's nothing to wear and we have to get out of the house in ten minutes?  This feels like the hardest job I'll ever take on and I can feel the tears well up in my eyes.

(Note to Self:  IT IS.)

I love it and I hate it.  But I don't think I would have my life any other way.  This life is pretty damn good.