You Can't Always Get What You Want

Moose is having a hard time getting used to the idea that, just because you say please doesn't mean you get what you've asked for. And when I say hard time, I mean sometimes an all out tantrum ensues. When I'm on my game, I try to diffuse the situation with a goofy song. It helps me keep my cool, it's a pressure release on my snark-o-meter, and it often distracts him enough that we can move past whatever has gotten him riled.

Sometimes I sing "It's the End of the World" by R.E.M. Recently I've turned to the Rolling Stones classic "You Can't Always Get What You Want."

Today the universe sang it back to me.

Mouse is struggling with a bout of something that may or may not turn out to be asthma. After her second dose of oral steroid last night, she became a fussy, fidgety monster and, ultimately, I did not finally get to sleep until after 1:00 this morning. Up again around 5:00. Up for good with Moose at 7:00, with the added challenge of joints that had locked up during what felt like an all-too-brief period of inactivity.

No doubt about it: I was a cranky puss this morning.

As I made the bed, I grumbled some half-intelligible prayer asking that, at least for today, could my hands please loosen up before noon. I started a pot of coffee and sent a vague, pitty-me text to a friend about how I hated prednisone even more than albutrerol (which I never thought possible).

About 30 seconds later my phone rang.

It was my friend. From nearly 700 miles away. Who I haven't seen since October. Who I last texted with from a physical therapy session in March.

And I got what I needed.

Sympathy. Understanding (her son suffers from asthma). Connection. Distraction (she just planted some wisteria). Perspective (she sees the hematologist today to find out if she has to stay on blood thinners post-PE last autumn).

I drafted this post from my phone at the park in bits and pieces between pushing Mouse on the swing, catching Mouse on the slide, saving Moose from a bumblebee.  My hands were still stiff and tender. I was fighting yawns.

I did not get what I asked for.

But I got what I needed (and it was even better).

When was the last time you got what you needed, even if it wasn't what you asked for or thought you wanted?

Mother's Day Hangover

My school-made card from Moose, who apparently thinks I'm underage and as big as a small elephant.

Apparently my kids missed the memo that Sunday was Mother's Day.  While my Facebook feed filled with gushing accounts of others' Mother's Day pampering and texts poured in wishing me a day of luxury, my kids were fighting (literally) in a shopping cart at the grocery store (Moose bonks Mouse over the head while I'm looking at lettuce; Mouse scratches Moose in the checkout line, etc.).

The thing is, I generally don't mind about Mothers' Day.  I grew up in a family that expressed their love and appreciation for each other often and didn't feel the need to make a big hoo-ha about the official days for moms and dads.

If I lived in a bubble, it wouldn't have gotten to me a bit.  It was a very ordinary Sunday for us: laundry, yard work, preparing for the week.  And, let's be honest, my kids frequently squabble in the cart at the grocery store.

But the comparison monster got me.

I'm not telling the other moms not to share.  I'm delighted that you had an amazing day!

But I get the sneaky suspicion that I'm not the only one who didn't get fireworks and diamonds.  Like so many things in our social media-driven world, reporting is disproportionate and skewed.  Which is to say, I think the fireworks and diamonds got tweeted and favorited, and the grocery cart boxing matches did not.

So today I pay tribute to all the other mothers whose "Day" was ordinary rather than extraordinary (or even a gargantuan flop).  And I wish you many Mother's Moments that happen without fanfare when it is least expected.

What's the best Mother's Moment you've had so far this week?

"Beauty" is Not a Dirty Word

Some Color-of-the-Year Beauty Finds

I've been struggling a bit since my YouTube beauty video confession last summer.  Struggling about wanting to share some beauty tricks, tips, or finds in this space.  But in a larger sense, struggling with guilt.

Why?

Lately, beauty seems to have become a bad word.  In an effort to make sure that we, as authentic women, are not owned by the aesthetic, it feels like beauty has been banished.  We don't want our daughters to be judged by whether or not they are pretty, so talking about how we look (or want to look) has become a new taboo.

Yet, when I've received a compliment from a fellow mom or female colleague ("your eyes look really pretty today" or "your skin looks great, what have you been doing"), and I've mustered the courage to admit my YouTube secret, the response I get is almost one of relief.  "Oh, you, too?!" I've heard more than once.  Not only do I enjoy taking a few extra minutes on my appearance when I can, but I'm not the only one!

I've thought a lot about it and have come to realize that we, as women of substance may have thrown the baby out with the bathwater, which is to say:

I don't think beauty is a dirty word - so long as it is not the only word.

Striving to give our children wholesome, meaningful experiences, challenging our minds with intellectual pursuits, and using our hands to create {delicious food or lovely crafts} does not require excluding beauty from our vocabulary and lifestyle.  In fact, making a little extra effort can make us feel like we're bringing our A-game to those other, far loftier pursuits.

So instead of feeling guilty, I'm going to embrace wanting to be just a little bit selfish and girly each day.  And since I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one, I've also decided to share some of that feminine fun here, in addition to my regularly irregular marginalia.

Do you have a favorite beauty tip you've been dying to share?  I'd love to hear it!

Cleaning House

Moose brought in the heavy lifters to help clean up his Fisher-Price nativity this year.  And really, it matches how I feel right now - time for some major clean-up and changes in my life (and not just in the master bathroom that Daddy M demo-d on Christmas Eve!).

Last year was filled with a lot of blessings, but as you can probably guess by my spotty posting, it has left me worn thin.

The Sunday after Christmas, while I was at a special Shavasana yoga class with my dear friend, Erin, this phrase came to me as an intention:

I nurture my mind, body, and spirit

So I have the strength to nurture others.

So, rather than a New Year's Resolution, I'm focusing on that intention for 2014.  Which means trying to find time for myself, elsewhere (even if it is with frivolous pursuits) as well as here.  Sharing here really brings me happiness, and if something I share nurtures a little part of your soul, too, all the better.

Did you make any New Year's Resolutions this year?

The Therapeutic Value of Dispensing Advice

Take a minute (or five of them, plus four seconds) this afternoon and listen.

I remember this song coming out shortly after I graduated from High School.  (Somewhat inconsequential fact: the message was actually written in 1997 - the year I graduated from High School.)  It was written by a Chicago Tribune columnist who was wistfully pondering what sage snippets she would impart, if ever she were invited to be a graduation speaker.

It made me tear up then (I don't really know why), and having stumbled upon it again (thanks to Alexandra's excellent blog), it still does.  In fact, I think some of the wisdom is just as (or more) applicable for worn-out thirty-somethings than it was for me at barely-twenty ("You are not as fat as you imagine.").

But it makes my heart swell differently now.  Because I have lived fourteen or so more years of life and can commiserate with the lyrics ("Oh yes, definitely!).  Maybe we've even said something similar to a child, a cousin going off to college, a wayward sibling.

Why does it make us feel good to give advice? 

I don't think it's ego.  The opposite, in fact.  Giving advice makes us feel like, for all the things we've messed up, we've gotten enough right that we have something useful to share.

I've been so weary from sleep-deprivation and so irritated-raw from my toddler's backtalk, that when someone pays me the extreme complement of asking for my advice, I nearly sent them flowers as a thank you.

So today, I want to give you a pick-me-up: what's your best advice?  On life.  Nutrition.  Mothering.  Running a business.  Hit me!

Dream Job

  

Photo Credit - bookgrl

Whenever I watch "Inside the Actor's Studio", and James Lipton gets to the question "What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?", I don't even have to pause for thought! 

COLOR NAMER!

I want to be the gal who gets to play with crayons and think up names like "mango tango" or "inchworm"!  Moreover, I can think back to when I was a kid, and remember marveling over the crayon names (and wondering who occupied the whimsical office, probably situated somewhere adjacent to the Easter Bunny's, that got to make those all-important decisions). 

I was pondering the grown-up variation of this job in the wee hours of this morning as I rocked Mouse (who has a tummy bug).  You see, one of my birthday gifts (thanks to a generous gift card from my mother-in-law) was the Naked 2 eye shadow palette.  

Photo Credit - Kristina

Someone, somewhere got to think of "snakebite" for a dark coppery color!  And "busted" for a dark metallic gray (the color of handcuffs, perhaps?)!  

That's the job I want to have!

What's your most crazy, far-fetched dream job?

Book Review: Lean In (Or Run the Other Way?)

Image Credit

I attended a women’s college in the late 1990s.  Equality was somewhat taken for granted, and where it wasn't, female superiority was assumed and advocated. That brand of feminism never appealed to me.

Which is why when Lean In was first published, my first inclination was to run the other way.  I expected a redux of my undergraduate experience.

It wasn't until a group of fellow female attorneys with whom I breakfast monthly decided to read it together that I caved.  I worked hard to suspend my preconceived notions.  I told myself that I was reading it for Mouse as much as for me.  I really, really tried.  Honest.

Let me be clear: I absolutely, unequivocally believe that women deserve an equal chance to pursue an education and rise to the pinnacle of any career she chooses.

And that is where the crux of my problem with Lean In lies: it's not about choice.  As one of my breakfast colleagues put it:  "It's reverse pigeon-holing; instead of telling us we have to be barefoot in the kitchen like the Mad Men generation, she's telling us we have to want to occupy the C-suite."

As much as Sandberg tries to placate her readers in later chapters of the book, sharing her own experiences as a new mom, and declaring that there's nothing wrong with staying at home to raise the next generation, she gives herself away in the first chapter.  For her, corporate and political leadership is not a choice, it is a moral imperative.

Instead, I think women need:

• To recognize rather than suppress the fact that we possess some uniquely feminine attributes; AND
• To figure out how to use those attributes to our advantage rather than trying to fill a man's shoes.
• To have access to women mentor figures early in life (as a teenager or college student) to help us learn to harness our strengths and discern how we want to apply those in our lives; AND
• To surround ourselves with a "boardroom" of women with whom to commiserate, bounce ideas, vent, brainstorm, and otherwise mutually encourage.

Which is why, if I ever write a book on the subject, it'll be called "True Choice: A pep rally for all women, whether they lead from the boardroom, the living room, the classroom, the courtroom, the operating room, or some combination thereof".

Have you read Lean In (or watched Sheryl Sandberg's TED Talk?  What are your thoughts?

Disclaimer: this post contains some Amazon affiliate links.

One of "Those" Days

Moose and I had one of "those" days on Friday.  A screaming-shrieking-toddler-in-the-middle-of-Target day.  And again on Saturday.  A walk-out-of-a-birthday-party-early day.

About the time the parenting self-doubt was really sinking in, Sunday dawned, and I scooped up Moose and took him to the park.  Half peace offering (because my tone and volume and words weren't as nice as they could have been on Friday and Saturday).  Half selfish repose (because there is much less to worry about when it's him, a slide, and some dirt; so he licked a rock, so what).

And it dawned on me that kids are not unlike the sun.  Yes, we rise when they rise (whether we really want to or not).  But more than that: they're constantly, constantly moving.  Shifting.  Sometimes imperceptibly, and we ease along with them.  Sometimes more dramatically, and we're caught outside in the blistering heat with no sunblock.

And that makes our jobs (as parents) hard.  Really hard.

Sometimes we want solutions, and sometimes we just need to sit on a swing, and watch the shadow shift, and delete (or at least ignore) all the blog posts of other mommies' awesomeness delivered to the inbox.

And remember that all of it - the bad and the good - is moving like the sun, and for better or worse is only here for now.

Friday Detour: Either Way, Moms Are Changing the World

I started today intending to write a 7 Quick Takes post reflecting on Lent and Easter.  But then this post over at To Love, Honor, and Vacuum caught my attention and an email exchange with my friend, Nikki got me thinking . . .

At the heart of Sheila's post (and, I am sure, many others out today in defense of Ann Romney) is the pull many (most? all?) moms feel between the desire/necessity (depending on the family's circumstances) to participate in the workforce outside the home and the desire/necessity (again, depending on the family) to stay at home to raise their child(ren).

In the pulsating blogosphere, there is this constant tension between moms who staunchly believe that staying home with the children is best for the children, even their calling or vocation, and moms who think they can best set an example for their children by being a contributing force in the corporate sphere, politics, or the arts. 

Let me tell you, as a mom who spends three days a week in an office and two days a week at home with my son, I feel that tension.  Some days I wish I was at my son's side full-time as he discovers the world; other days I yearn to be back in the courtroom. 

When the "second wave" of the Western feminist movement took off in the 1960's, it was about a woman's right to choose whether she stayed at home and raised a family or climbed the corporate ladder.  Up until then (and, some may argue, even now, depending on the field or the geographical location) some career paths weren't even open to women.  

Feminists bucked the idea that women had to stay home, clean house, change diapers, and train up the future generation.

Like many movements, however, I think it may have swung too far the other way.  Now, if we read between the lines of the Hilary Rosen vs. Ann Romney buzz, there's a belief that we owe it to our bra-burning feminist predecessors to kiss our children goodbye every day and don our power suits, even if that's not what our heart tells us is right.  Sheila's post sardonically asks, "if we stay home with our kids, [do] we somehow “betray the sisterhood” or something?"

I don't think that's what feminism is meant to be about.  Or, at least, it's not what it ought to be about. 

Likewise, though, I don't think that's what the mom-supportive feminine movement ought to be about either.

It should be about choice.

Women started out wanting women to have a choice.  Men were the "enemy".  Now?  Women are telling other women what to do (in both directions)!  We've turned on ourselves!

My friend Nikki said it best, "Raising kids is hard no matter how you do it. It is not harder or easier to stay home or work [outside the home] it is just a different kind of hard."

We women ought to support one another in our choices: whether we choose to change the world by legislating for change or curing cancer; or whether we believe in changing the world, as Steven Curtis Chapman put it, "one little heartbeat at a time".  Either way, we women are doing the hard work that will shape the future.

Enough with the mommy drive-bys!  If we have the time and means to be perusing the blogosphere pondering this issue, we need to be thankful to live in an era and place, and under circumstances where BOTH staying at home and working outside the home are available options (for many Western women, their economic circumstances dictate the role the must play, and, heaven knows, our sisters on the other side of the globe to not have that luxury!).  We need to have each other's backs - if we don't who will? 

Okay, I'll get off my soapbox now.  I have dishes to wash.  And a hearing to prepare for.



Image: Ambro / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Bully for You

This week the blogosphere lit up with condemnation of Susan G. Komen for the Cure's decision to withdraw funding from Planned Parenthood.  A day later, Komen reversed its decision.  (If you somehow missed it, here's a bit of catch-up.)

I am not here to discuss pro-life vs. pro-choice.  And I'm really not here to discuss whether Komen should or should not give funds to Planned Parenthood.

Rather, I am taking to this space (small though its scope may be), on an otherwise quiet Saturday, because there are several aspects of how this all "went down" that trouble me deeply. 

First, how many of the presumably thousands that chimed in (with such furor as to make Komen feel forced to make a u-turn) read the fine print?  One of the main criticisms slung at Komen was that it was abandoning at risk women in need of mammograms.  However, as a blogger I greatly admire explained quite succinctly:  

If your organization provides low-cost mammograms to women who need them, [Komen] will still be available for grants. Planned Parenthood offers manual breast exams in their clinics. It does not offer mammograms onsite. Instead, some Planned Parenthood locations provide grants to women to receive low-cost mammograms at other organizations. Why does Komen need a middle man? Why should Planned Parenthood receive money to give grants for mammograms to other organizations? Komen is wise to give the money directly to the clinics that actually give the breast cancer screenings rather than funneling it through Planned Parenthood (or any other establishment for that matter).

So if Komen's funds to Planned Parenthood were only going to be used for third-party mammogram grants in the first place, the cessation of direct funding to Planned Parenthood should have no negative impact on women in need of low-cost mammograms. 

If we, those who have chosen to take part in social media, are going to comment on the actions of others, don't we have a duty to know all the facts?

Second, if we take out the particular issues involved in this instance, who isn't for more direct stewardship of charitable funds?

One of the proffered reasons in favor of Komen's initial decision to withdraw funding from Planned Parenthood was that some of Komen's pro-life donors were uncomfortable with the fact that their dollars went to support an organization (however indirectly) that performs abortions.  I don't know about you, but I can imagine the conversation between a Komen fundraiser and potential donor:

Komen operator: "We noticed that you made a donation in your mother's memory last year.  Can we count on you for another $100 donation this year?"

Donor: "Well, I'm pro-life, and I want to honor my mother's memory and help find a cure for everyone else affected by breast cancer, but can you guarantee that my money isn't going to support Planned Parenthood?"

Somehow, this type of reluctance from some donors seems to have been spun into a mean-ol'-pro-lifers argument, but if we put the shoe on the other foot, how does it fit?

Health-Condition-Related Charity operator: "We noticed that you made a donation in your father's memory last year.  Can we count on you again this year?"

Donor: "Well, I am an atheist, and want to honor my father's memory and help put an end to this kind of disease, but I've heard that you grant money to support a faith-based addiction support program.  I don't want my money going to churches, can you guarantee that won't happen?"

Should we, as charitable donors, be forced to contribute (even indirectly) to organizations with whom we respectfully disagree in order to support a cause for which we care greatly?


Finally, and this is what has been gnawing at me the most, to what extent do we have the right to tell other private individuals (and private organizations) what to do with their money?

Don't misunderstand me - I am all for free speech.  But, as Thomas Jefferson said, "your freedom ends where my nose begins."

If you're a Komen donor and pro-Planned Parenthood, then, sure, my feeling is that you had standing to express an opinion about Komen's grant practices.  A respectful, reasoned opinion.

There is a line - however gray it may be - between speaking one's mind and bullying.  And nasty, personal attacks (many, I suspect, by people who have no personal stake in Komen's grant practices) and calls to others to do the same cross that gray line.

It is not acceptable for me to walk next door, scream and shake my fist, and bully my neighbor into donating to Save the [Fill in the Wild Animal] Foundation.  I can tell her why I'm passionate about that animal, and I can try to persuade her.

But in the end she should feel like she has a choice whether or not to support that cause.  Regardless of how you feel about Komen, I'll bet they don't feel like they had a choice.  They were blackmailed.  Ransomed. 

And that is bullying.

If this is how a private organization is treated by adults, and the collective example that grown-ups are making for their children, is it any wonder that bullying is becoming more and more of a problem in our schools?

Words are powerful, folks.  If the last twelve months (think Arab Summer and Occupy Wall Street) have taught us anything, it is that.

Let's use them wisely.  Let's think before we speak.  Let's get our facts straight first.  Let's remember to be respectful.

And, ultimately, just like we all want to make our own decisions, let's let others do the same.

Photo Credit

Soul-Searching and Self-Doubt

I read this article recently about Queen Elizabeth's Coronation Maids of Honour, and I found myself hung up on this quote from Lady Rosemary Muir (who was, at the time of the coronation, Lady Rosemary Spencer-Churchill):

Soul-searching and self-doubt is such a modern thing . . .

These words came back to my mind today, as I drove to the office, agonizing over yet another screaming-crying goodbye with the Moose when I left him at daycare.  

What am I doing wrong that he cries like that when I leave?  And why now - this has been our routine since he was a baby?

If Lady Rosemary's words are, indeed, a correct sociological observation, I might have be spared such thoughts, such guilt, were I born to a different time.

Then again, perhaps soul-searching and self-doubt are indicative of the evolution of human understanding and human connection, and I am better off with sadness (and a few tears of my own) if it leads to a better response to my son's emotional needs.

Or is he just going through a phase?

Or maybe I just need some more coffee?

What do you think? Is soul-searching (and, yes, self-doubt) better for us in the long run?  Or is ignorance bliss?